Gerhard LOHFINK. The Our Father: A New Reading. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2019. Pp. 125. $17.95hb. ISBN: 978-08-14663-59-2. Reviewed by Ryan MARR, The National Institute for Newman Studies, Pittsburgh, PA 15237.

 

            Gerhard Lohfink, former professor of New Testament exegesis at the University of Tübingen, has earned a reputation as one of our most insightful living commentators on the life and teachings of Jesus. The Our Father: A New Reading is Lohfink’s fourth installment in a series of publications on these topics, which began with Jesus of Nazareth: What He Wanted, Who He Was and continued with a monograph on eschatology and another on Jesus’ relevance for the Church today. This most recent title is the slimmest of the four volumes—coming in at under 120 pages—but readers should not allow the brevity of the book to prejudice their expectations. Lohfink packs an impressive amount of insight into each page, and there is plenty herein for both scholars and non-scholars to reflect upon. As was the case with his other works about Jesus, in this volume Lohfink deftly combines historical critical analysis with original theological commentary, demonstrating that attention to the first-century Palestinian context enriches rather than detracts from the doctrinal conviction that in the person of Jesus we encounter the Divine Word made flesh.

Lohfink begins his book by reminding readers of the particularity of the prayer that Jesus taught his disciples. In an era when many popular writers depict Jesus as a cosmic Christ who equally appeals to members of different faiths or to those with no faith at all, it’s refreshing to be reminded that the Our Father “is first of all and primarily a prayer for Jesus’ disciples” (1). This characteristic of the prayer means that “it is a dangerous prayer for anyone who prays it,” because to recite these words is to be initiated into a way of life that entails “forgetting [one’s] own desires and plans … and desiring only what God wills” (2). Furthermore, the Our Father is resolutely theocentric: “God’s interest comes first,” while “the disciples’ interests … only come into play in the second part” of the prayer (9-10). Nevertheless, in contrast to some other ancient Near Eastern prayers, the Our Father does not involve a highly ritualized appeal to a distant deity who might be angered if the petitioners happen to misspeak. Lohfink comments: “Abba—that is the only address. It is familial. The communicative situation of the Our Father is not that of a king’s court ceremonial but family intimacy—more precisely, that of Jesus’ ‘new family’” (7). In this light, disciples should pray the Our Father with confidence, resting in the knowledge that the One who hears their petitions has also promised to care for their needs.

Lohfink’s analysis incisively dispels any notion that the Christian life is one of quietism. Notably, Jesus does not instruct his disciples to pray that others will come to know his identity, but tells them to plead for the establishment of God’s reign. Those who have been entrusted with this prayer, then, “must never separate the person of Jesus, his divine mystery, from what he wanted and what he gave his life for: the coming of the reign of God” (53). The reign of God, moreover, is not some nebulous, off-in-the-distance reality that we passively wait for, but “is supposed to begin here and now” (55). Praying the Our Father incorporates the petitioners into the new family of God, committing them to the values and ethical convictions that mark out this family as a new way of living in the world. For instance, the first members of this apocalyptic society traveled defenselessly, which set them apart from both the armed Zealots of Israel as well as the despots of the Roman Empire, both of whom assumed that justice could only be attained through violence. Christ’s followers were able to adopt this distinct way of life because they trusted that the God who called them to it would be faithful to provide their daily bread and would preserve them during the time of trial. Faithful discipleship today, Lohfink insists, will demand the same radical trust in God’s loving care.

The preceding paragraphs provide only a snapshot of the issues that Lohfink addresses in his book. Among other points, he also tackles the thorny question of whether the Our Father perpetuates a harmful, patriarchal image of God, and near the end of the book provides a theological explanation of how best to understand the prayer’s sixth petition—“lead us not into temptation”—which is a timely discussion in light of Pope Francis’ recent decision to approve a new translation of this phrase. Even when I found myself in disagreement with a particular conclusion, I couldn’t help but be impressed with the erudition, balance, and theological depth that Lohfink brought to whatever topic was under consideration. Considering Lohfink’s decision to leave a prestigious academic position and join the Catholic Integrated Community, he strikes me as the kind of thinker who seeks to take seriously the theological claims about which he writes. Readers who share this same commitment will benefit both devotionally and intellectually from a careful study of his work.