It is only pity or mercy that makes life possible. We do not like to hear it, but human beings at their best are pitiable creatures that “walk in a vain show” (Psalm 39:6). Only God’s mercies keep us from being consumed because of our sins (Lamentations 3:22). But as a father pities his children, so the Lord pities us. He knows what we are made of and remembers that we are dust. He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor does he reward us in proportion to our wrongdoings (Psalm 103:10-14). That is the wonderful, healing nature of The Kingdom Among Us.

Today we sometimes speak of people who cannot forgive themselves. Usually, however, the problem is much deeper. More often than not, these are people who refuse to live on the basis of pity. Their problem is not that they are hard on themselves, but that they are proud. And if they are hard on themselves, it is because they are proud. They do not want to accept that they can only live on the basis of pity from others, that the good that comes to them is rarely “deserved.” If they would only do that, it would transform their lives. They would easily stop punishing themselves for what they have done.

This is why it is not psychologically possible for us really to know God’s pity for us and at the same time be hardhearted toward others (or ourselves). So we are “forgiving of others in the same manner as God forgives us.” And if you’ve been squirming as you read this, there’s a good reason. I have used the word pity through much of this discussion of “forgive us our sins,” rather than the word mercy or the even more dignified compassion. This is because only pity reaches to the heart of our condition. The word pity makes us wince, as mercy does not. Our current language has robbed mercy of its deep, traditional meaning, which is practically the same as pity. To pity someone now is to feel sorry for them, and that is regarded as demeaning, whereas to have mercy now is thought to be slightly noble – just “give ’em a break.” Today even many Christians read and say “forgive us our trespasses” as “give me a break.” In the typically late-twentieth-century manner, this saves the ego and its egotism. “I am not a sinner, I just need a break!” But no, I need more than a break. I need pity because of who I am. If my pride is untouched when I pray for forgiveness, I have not prayed for forgiveness. I don’t even understand it.

This request is not just for evasion of pain and of things we don’t like, though it frankly is that. It expresses the understanding that we can’t stand up under very much pressure, and that it is not a good thing for us to suffer. It is a vote of “no confidence” in our own abilities. As the series of requests begins with the glorification of God, it ends with acknowledgment of the feebleness of human beings. God expects us to pray that we will escape trials, and we should do it. The bad things that happen to us are always challenges to our faith, and we may not be able to stand up under them. They are dangerous. To know this, one has only to watch how quickly people begin to attack God when bad things start to happen to them. The excessive confidence people have in the strength of their own faith – usually it is when they are not suffering, of course – simply makes the danger worse.

Once again, we are asking for pity, this time in the form of protection from circumstances. We are asking a Father who is both able and willing to extend such pity to not led bad things happen to us. The last request in the Lord’s Prayer is the revelation of a God who loves spare his children and who will always do it upon request unless he has something better in mind. People who do not ask God to spare them from trials and evils usually do not recognize his hand when they are spared. They then live under the illusion that their lives are governed by chance, luck, accident, the whims of others, and their own cleverness. And because they do not ask, do not constantly invite God in, that may well be, to some significant extent, no illusion. If one is content with such an outlook, God will probably leave one with it. But we will never know our life to be one in The Kingdom Among Us. To that kingdom Jesus’ words about prayer are an ever open door.