Today’s readings place before us two great themes:
The power of prayer.
And the power of holiness.
And both are embodied in the great prophet Elijah.
Sirach speaks about Elijah in extraordinary terms.
“Then the prophet Elijah arose like a fire.”
What an image.
Not merely a good man.
Not merely a religious man.
A fire.
A man so filled with God that he set everything around him alight.
When we hear about Elijah’s miracles, it is tempting to think he belongs to another world.
He calls down fire from heaven.
He raises the dead.
He confronts kings.
He performs mighty deeds.
Yet the Bible reminds us elsewhere that Elijah was a man just like us.
He became holy not because he was different from us.
But because he lived close to God.
And that is the connection with today’s Gospel.
The disciples ask Jesus how to pray.
And Jesus gives them the Our Father.
The most famous prayer in history.
The prayer that countless saints have prayed every day.
The prayer Elijah himself would have loved.
Because it places God at the centre.
Notice how differently Jesus teaches us to pray from the way many people pray.
Many people think prayer means persuading God.
Convincing Him.
Talking Him into helping us.
As if God were reluctant.
As if He needed information.
As if He had forgotten us.
Jesus says: “Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.”
What a comforting sentence.
God is not a distant ruler waiting to be informed.
He is a Father.
A Father who already knows.
A Father who already cares.
A Father who already loves.
That is why the first words of the prayer are so important.
“Our Father.”
Not “My Creator.”
Not “The Almighty.”
Though He is both.
But “Our Father.”
Christian prayer begins not with fear but with relationship.
Not with anxiety but with trust.
And then Jesus teaches us the right order.
First: “Hallowed be your name.”
Not my name.
Your name.
“Your kingdom come.”
Not my kingdom.
Your kingdom.
“Your will be done.”
Not my will.
Your will.
That is the secret of every saint.
The saints stopped putting themselves at the centre.
They placed God at the centre.
And when God takes His rightful place, everything else begins to fall into place.
Then Jesus teaches us to ask for what we need.
Daily bread.
Forgiveness.
Protection from evil.
Simple things.
Essential things.
The things that matter most.
And then comes perhaps the hardest line in the entire prayer:
“Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
Notice what Jesus does not say.
He does not say:
“Forgive us, whether or not we forgive others.”
He links the two together.
The forgiven must become forgiving.
The recipients of mercy must become merciful.
That is difficult.
Sometimes very difficult.
People hurt us.
Disappoint us.
Wound us.
And yet Jesus insists that hearts closed to forgiveness eventually close themselves to grace.
The saints understood this.
They knew that holiness is not merely saying prayers.
It is becoming the kind of person who lives those prayers.
Elijah was a fire because he belonged entirely to God.
The saints became saints because they belonged entirely to God.
And every one of them began where we begin today.
With prayer.
Simple prayer.
Faithful prayer.
The daily turning of the heart towards God.
Most of us will never call down fire from heaven.
Most of us will never perform dramatic miracles.
But every one of us can pray.
Every one of us can forgive.
Every one of us can place God’s will before our own.
Every one of us can grow in holiness.
And perhaps that is the challenge today.
When we pray the Our Father at Mass in a few moments, let us not simply recite familiar words.
Let us mean them.
Let us truly ask that God’s name be honoured.
That His kingdom come.
That His will be done.
And if we do that faithfully, then the same God who made Elijah a fire can gradually make saints of us as well.
St. Mary's, St. John Bosco and St. Edward's 