Over the centuries, numerous spiritual writers have commented on the Lord’s Prayer, from Tertullian, Cyprian, and Augustine in the early Church, to Thomas Aquinas in the medieval period, to Teresa of Avila at the time of the Reformation. With so much ink spilled over the one prayer that Jesus taught his disciples to pray, one might reasonably wonder: Do we really need another book on the Lord’s Prayer? Strictly speaking, perhaps the answer is ‘no’ – few things are necessary, strictly speaking. Nevertheless, William Wright’s recent exposition of the Lord’s Prayer, part of Baker Academic’s Touchstone Texts series, is a welcome contribution to the tradition of commentary on this central Christian prayer.

The goal of Baker’s new series is to offer ‘theological exposition’ of key texts in Scripture that feature prominently in preaching and catechesis, and Wright pulls off the task with aplomb. After a brief introduction and a chapter discussing the context of the Lord’s Prayer, Wright’s exposition follows each of the main petitions of the prayer, discussing its grammatical features as well as its biblical and Jewish background. A few things set Wright’s treatment apart from those of premodern and early modern expositors. First, he attends more deliberately to the literary setting of each version of the Lord’s Prayer in Matthew and Luke. Secondly, he regularly brings out the significance of the nuances in the two different versions of the prayer. Finally, he draws on material and discoveries that would not have been available to premodern readers, such as the Dead Sea Scrolls and other Second Temple Jewish texts that have been rediscovered within the past few centuries.

Although Wright’s discussion of the prayer differs in significant ways from his premodern forebears, he nevertheless offers an approach that is in continuity with Aquinas’s understanding of the so-called ‘plain sense’ of the text. (One might wonder whether the author should have acknowledged the controversy surrounding that term, but perhaps it was best to avoid such a morass, given the genre and purpose of the series.) Adapting Bruce Marshall’s translation of a phrase from Aquinas, Wright describes his own task as explaining ‘the way the words go [in context]’ (p. 4, brackets in the original). That context is multifaceted, encompassing the literary context of the two Gospels in which the prayer appears, the broader context of Scripture as a whole, which informs the language and imagery of the prayer, and the historical context of first-century Judaism.

The opening chapter of Wright’s work offers a fruitful approach to the differences between Matthew and Luke. Noting that Jesus most likely taught his disciples the prayer in Aramaic, differences would inevitably arise when the prayer was translated into Greek by different authors. Matthew and Luke, then, both offer faithful adaptations of the prayer, drawing out its meaning in different ways. In Matthew the prayer appears at the very centre of the Sermon on the Mount, indicating ‘the fundamental importance of prayer in the Christian life’ (p. 20). Additionally, Matthew’s placement of the prayer teaches Christians more specifically about their relationship to God as Father. In Luke, the Lord’s Prayer is part of a series of teachings that underscore the interpersonal nature of prayer, the importance of perseverance in prayer, and the nature of the gifts the Father gives to his children. This literary treatment of the prayer models one of the great gains of modern scholarship, namely, paying closer attention to each of the New Testament writers as writers. The introductory remarks on the prayer in its two settings also illustrate a central theme in Wright’s treatment. Like many other biblical prayers, the Lord’s Prayer serves as a part of the divine pedagogy. By it the Lord teaches us about the Father, about himself, and about ourselves (since the author’s book is a work of Christian theology, he does not shy away from using the first-person plural pronoun). This prayer, then, is not simply or perhaps even primarily about asking the Father for things, but rather about being formed into his children. Wright also notes the eschatological elements of the prayer, as well as its affinity with other ancient Jewish prayers from around the time of Jesus.

Because the Lord’s Prayer focuses on God as Father, the lengthiest chapter in the book is devoted to the title ‘Father’, drawing on the biblical and ancient Jewish understanding of fatherhood in both its human and its divine forms. Wright’s discussion is wide-ranging and insightful, drawing on texts from both the Old and the New Testaments and addressing both God’s own fatherhood and ancient Israelite conceptions of the father–child relationship more broadly. For the New Testament writers, Jesus reveals a dimension of the divine fatherhood unknown prior to the Incarnation. In numerous passages Jesus addresses God as Father in a unique way, one that is categorically different from the ways that various figures in ancient Israel were considered ‘sons of God’. This uniqueness can be seen, for example, in the infancy narratives of both Matthew and Luke, in Jesus’ prayer of thanksgiving to the Father (Matt 11:25–27//Luke 10:21–22), and in the parable of the wicked tenants. By grace, however, Jesus invites his disciples to participate in his sonship and to call God Father. The father–child relationship as described in the Old Testament sheds considerable light on what it means to call God ‘Father’. On God’s part, it means that he provides for his children, teaches them, and forms them morally. On the human side, it means God’s children have a duty to honour and obey him. Summing up the character of the prayer, Wright notes, ‘The petitions in the Lord’s Prayer show us who we are and what we need to ask for from God’ (p. 68).

A recurring theme throughout the exposition of the petitions is the eschatological hope that they embody. Each of the petitions reflects the early Christian understanding that in one sense, God has accomplished his saving work through the death and resurrection of Christ, but in another sense, Christians still await the full realization of that work. This understanding remains implicit in the name petition, which is the only one of the petitions with no explicit connection to Jesus’ teaching elsewhere in the Gospels. Nevertheless, as Wright correctly notes, the Old Testament background to this petition in the prophets Ezekiel and Isaiah sheds light on the eschatological tenor of this part of the prayer, as it calls for God to show the holiness of his name by accomplishing his saving work fully. The kingdom petition connects with the heart of Jesus’s message, which centres on the kingdom of God. In this chapter, as in the chapter on the final petition asking for deliverance, Wright deftly shows how the material unique to Matthew’s version of the prayer expands upon and fills out the material common to Matthew and Luke. For example, the petition, ‘Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven’ elaborates what it means for God’s kingdom to come, namely, the perfect accomplishment of his will. One of the most beautiful aspects of Wright’s treatment is the chapter on forgiveness. Both Matthew and Luke have parables that address the need for forgiveness, the parable of the unforgiving servant and the parable of the prodigal son, respectively. Both parables illustrate God’s generosity and kindness, our need for forgiveness, and our need to offer forgiveness in a way that illuminates the importance of this petition.

The subtitle of Wright’s book is ‘Matthew 6 and Luke 11 for the Life of the Church’. This well-written and thoughtful work lives up to the subtitle admirably. Clearly written, with deep learning worn lightly, Wright offers pastors, scholars, teachers, and ordinary Christians a concise but robust exposition of the Lord’s Prayer, filled with theological and spiritual insights rooted in careful exegesis and a judicious integration of ancient sources and modern scholarship.