Studying the Lord's Prayer, we saw that life in Christ is a life of prayer. Now let's look at life in Christ as a life of love, focusing on the Ten Commandments.

The word love doesn't appear in the Ten Commandments. Is that because none of them are about love? No, it's because all of them are about love. Jesus said: "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments" (Matthew 22:37-40).

Life is war. Prayer is a wartime walkie-talkie. Author John Piper says that Jesus gives every Christian a transmitter coded to the frequency of the general's headquarters. As we battle the enemy, our Leader is as close as our transmitter. He will provide instructions and send in air cover when we need it and call for it. Help is only a prayer away.

But, says Piper, "We have taken a wartime walkie-talkie and tried to turn it into a civilian intercom to call the servants for another cushion in the den." We pray for God to make us comfortable, when we should ask his help to fight temptation, spread the gospel, and defeat the armies of evil. "Stand up, stand up for Jesus, stand in his strength alone; the arm of flesh will fail you, you dare not trust your own. Put on the gospel armor, each piece put on with prayer; where duty calls, or danger, be never failing there."

Right after teaching the Lord's Prayer, Jesus says, "For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, you Father will not forgive your sins" (Matthew 6:14-15). Does this mean we earn God's forgiveness by how well we forgive others? No, but it does mean forgiveness is a package deal. By faith we accept forgiveness both as God's policy toward us and as our policy toward others. We cannot expect forgiveness as God's policy toward us if we refuse to make it our policy toward others and insist on judgment and payback instead. If we refuse to live in a kingdom where all is forgiven, the only alternative is a place where nothing is forgiveness. That is hell.

When we go to Jesus for the first time and come under God's policy of forgiveness, all our guilt and all our grudges go on the garbage dump at Jesus' cross. This defining moment of forgiveness is then lived out afresh each day through prayer. As we journey through life, we still commit sins and suffer from the sins of others. In prayer we bring these things to God and place them under his grace, trusting that "if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9), and recommitting ourselves to forgiving each other just as in Christ God forgave us (Ephesians 4:32).

When we pray for our own needs and ask for our daily bread, it's not just for our own sake but so that we may hallow God's name and do his will. Few of us are strong enough to handle extreme poverty or extreme wealth in a way that glorifies God. If we have too little, we turn to crime, grabbing what isn't ours. If we have too much, we become complacent and figure God is just a crutch for losers; we can do fine without him.

A wise man in the Old Testament prayed: "Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, 'Who is the Lord?' Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God" (Proverbs 30:8-9). Jesus tells us to echo that prayer, asking our Father to give us enough for today, that we may honor him.

There's a story about a man who bowed his head and prayed, "Lord, bless me and my wife, our son John and his wife: us four and no more." I don't think anyone would actually say such words, but isn't that what many of our prayers amount to? We tend to pray only for ourselves and our immediate circle of family and friends. We focus our requests on food, finances, and health.

It is right to pray for the daily needs of ourselves and our dear ones, but before we pray for our daily bread, we should pray for the worldwide establishment of God's kingdom and plead that earth may reflect heaven in doing God's will.

My grandmother lived to be more than 91 years old. In her long life, she went through many hardships: she immigrated to a new land; a number of her children died; her husband died and left her a widow for many years. But she also enjoyed many blessings. She lived in her own house in good health, right up to the night she put herself to bed and woke up in heaven.

Of all the things I remember about Grandma, here's what I remember best:  Almost every time I heard her pray aloud, at some point she would say, in her strong immigrant accent, "Great art thou, Lord, and greatly to be praised." I also remember that just two days before Grandma died, she told me: "Live to praise the Lord." Just five simple words--but all the sermons I've ever heard (or preached) can't really improve on those words from the lips of a woman who spent nine decades living to praise the Lord.

Some people treat God as their pal and talk as though they are on a "first-name basis" with him. They pray without any sense that God is "in heaven," splendid and supreme over all. Their phony familiarity often means they don't know God at all; otherwise, they would speak with more respect.

Others, eager to avoid such disrespect, start their prayers with a lofty list of God's titles and attributes: "O thou almighty, all-wise King of the universe, sublime in holiness, adored by angels, we beseech thee..." Such words are true enough, but is that the first thing God wants to hear when his children come to him? No, he wants to hear us say, "Father."

If you are new to faith in Jesus, or even if you've been a Christian for a long time, you may find it hard to pray; you're not sure you know the right words. But take heart. According to Jesus, prayer doesn't have to be fancy. When you pray, you are not performing to impress the judge of a speech contest; you are pouring out your heart to your Father. He understands you and knows what you need even before you ask him.

Think of words you learned as a child: "Daddy." "Wow!" "I'm sorry." "Please." "Thank you." "Ouch!" "Why?" "I love you." If you know these words, you can pray. Like a child saying "Daddy," talk to God as your dear Father (Matthew 6:9). Like a child exclaiming "Wow!" or "Awesome!", marvel at God and praise his wonders (Psalm 104). Like a child sobbing "I'm sorry," admit your sins to God and ask his forgiveness (Psalm 51). Like a child begging "Please," bring your requests to God urgently but respectfully, trusting him to give you what is best for you (Matthew 6:7). Like a child saying "Thank you," count your blessings and thank God for his answers to prayer (Psalm 107). Like a child screaming "Ouch!", tell God your pain and problems (Psalm 6). Like a child asking "Why?", bring your confusion to God and seek his wisdom (James 1:5). Like a child saying, "I love you," pour out your love to God, and rest in his love (Psalm 18:1).

Jesus said, "I am the living bread that came down from heaven... This bread is my flesh, which I give for the life of the world... Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life... For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in him" (John 6:51-56).

How do Christians feast on Jesus? Not just by swallowing, but by faith. How is Jesus present in the Lord's Supper? Not by bringing his body and blood back down to earth or being sacrificed repeatedly in transformed bread and wine, but by drawing us back to his sacrifice on the cross and by lifting our hearts to him in heaven as we eat and drink. "Yet we do not go wrong when we say that what is eaten is Christ's own natural body and what is drunk is his own natural blood--but the manner in which we eat it is not by the mouth but by the Spirit, through faith" (Belgic Confession). "As surely as I taste with my mouth the bread and cup of the Lord, ... so surely he nourishes and refreshes my soul for eternal life with his crucified body and poured-out blood" (Heidelberg Catechism).