Our Father

“Our Father” — Where Prayer Begins and Where Judgment Follows

When we consider the prayer, “Our Father”, we must slow down at the very first words. The Lord Jesus did not begin with requests or needs. He began with a position.

“Our Father.”

Relationship first. Geography second. Reverence immediately thereafter.

Christ directs our attention upward before anything else moves. The question posed to Him was simple: How should we pray? His answer establishes a hierarchy that modern Christianity often inverts. We rush to provision, protection, and personal blessing. Christ begins with acknowledgment, identity, authority, and holiness.

“Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.”
— Matthew 6:9

That is not decorative language. It is orientation. Prayer begins by placing God where He belongs and us where we belong. Heaven is not mentioned to inform God of His location; it is mentioned to remind us of ours. We are earthbound creatures addressing the eternal King. The first act of prayer is submission disguised as praise.

Is praise actually submission?

It is worth asking the question plainly: when Jesus begins his prayer with “hallowed be your name,” is the first act of prayer really submission?

Yes — but not because praise is pretending to be something else. True praise and submission are not rivals; they are inseparable.

To hallow God’s name is not flattery. It is not emotional language. It is an act of agreement with reality. God is holy. God is above. God is the Creator. We are not. The moment we acknowledge that order, we step out of the centre and place Him there. That movement of the heart is submission.

Scripture binds worship and surrender together:

“Oh come, let us worship and bow down;
let us kneel before the Lord, our Maker.” — Psalm 95:6

Praise is not a camouflage for surrender — it is surrender expressed as honour. You cannot genuinely hallow God while clinging to personal sovereignty. The first movement of prayer dethrones the self and restores God to His rightful place.

When Christ teaches us to begin with reverence, He is not offering a polite introduction. He is reordering the soul.

Prayer begins where reality begins: God above, man beneath, and peace found in the right arrangement.

And immediately after reverence comes desire:

“Your kingdom come, your will be done…”
— Matthew 6:10

Not my kingdom. Not my will.

His.

This links directly back to creation and the garden. Eden is not merely the story of human disobedience; it is the battlefield where wills collide. The serpent introduces the ancient temptation: autonomy from God.

“You will be like God…”
— Genesis 3:5

The war between light and darkness did not begin with humanity, but humanity stepped into it the moment it chose independence over obedience. Scripture reminds us that rebellion existed before man’s fall:

“He was a murderer from the beginning… the father of lies.”
— John 8:44

Every generation relives that decision in its own clothing.

The importance of hallowing the name of God cannot be overstated. It is the anchor of a sane worldview. Once reverence collapses, substitution follows. Creation replaces the Creator. Language shifts. People speak of “the universe” as if it were a conscious authority, a giver, and a moral force. Scripture diagnosed this exchange long ago.

“They exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator.”
— Romans 1:25

Romans 1 lays it out with uncomfortable clarity: mankind did not lose its way by accident. It exchanged truth for a lie. From that inversion flow moral confusion, spiritual blindness, and societal decay.

“Claiming to be wise, they became fools…”
— Romans 1:22

The slippery slope is not random; it is the predictable consequence of dethroning God from the mind.

History shows us the pattern repeats. Typology is not just a literary device in Scripture; it is a warning system.

“These things took place as examples for us…”
— 1 Corinthians 10:6

Civilisations rise, reject divine authority, redefine morality, and collapse under the weight of their own rebellion. The lesson is never hidden. The tragedy is how often it is ignored.

We like to study past ages as if they were safely contained behind glass. But Scripture does not permit that distance.

“Now these things happened to them as an example, but they were written down for our instruction…”
— 1 Corinthians 10:11

Our age will also be weighed. Judgement is not merely historical; it is personal and generational.

“It is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment.”
— Hebrews 9:27

The question is not whether decline has happened before. The question is how we respond while standing within our own cycle.

Prayer, then, is not a ritual escape from reality. It is in line with the ultimate reality.

When Christ teaches us to begin with “Our Father,” He is teaching us to restore the correct order of things.

“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.”
— Proverbs 9:10

Creator above creation. Will above desire. Kingdom above comfort. Reverence above expression.

If that foundation is wrong, everything built on top of it leans toward collapse.

The recovery of a culture begins where true prayer begins, with the hallowing of God’s name.

“Those who honor me I will honor…”
— 1 Samuel 2:30

Not sentimentally. Not symbolically. But with a conscious refusal to replace Him with abstractions, trends, or cosmic vagueness. The universe is not sovereign. God is.

“In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.”
— Genesis 1:1

And the age that remembers that has hope.

The age that forgets it writes its own indictment.

The unavoidable conclusion

If Christ were removed from the equation, all that would remain would be religion, argument, and speculation. With Him in His rightful place, truth becomes visible, prayer becomes possible, and God becomes known.

Everything begins and ends there.

Jesus in my place — or I understand nothing.

Jesus in my place is not a detail of faith — it is the reason I understand anything.

Signing off

Tyrone