SIRACH 35:12-14, 16-18 | 2 TIMOTHY 4:6-8, 16-18 | LUKE 18:9-14

We’re continuing our reflection on prayer this week. Last week’s gospel passage was a teaching about the efficacy of stamina in prayer – never give up. In this week’s passage, Jesus spun another parable exposing a serious blockage to prayer’s efficacy. It’s about two men praying in the temple.

One was an ultra-orthodox Pharisee. The literal meaning of the word Pharisee is: “one who is separated.” The members of this religious sect saw themselves as separate from the rest of humanity because of the depth of their commitment to the minutiae of the law. This Pharisee’s commitment was impressive. He fasted twice a week. Jewish law prescribed only one obligatory fast day, Yom Kippur. He gave tithes on everything he owned. The law prescribed tithing only produce. The Pharisee’s prayer that day consisted of reminding God how he stood apart from the rest of humanity. He even looked with disgust at the tax collector who was praying near him. “O God, I thank you that I am not like the rest of humanity – greedy, dishonest, adulterous – or even like this tax collector.”

The tax collector’s prayer was very different. He “would not even raise his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast and prayed, ‘O God be merciful to me a sinner.’” In fact, a more accurate translation of the tax collector’s prayer would be: “O God, be merciful to me THE sinner.”

The Pharisee’s prayer boasted of his elevated status among other Jews because he fasted more often and more intensely, and because he tithed more lavishly than the ordinary people. The Pharisee wore his religion on his sleeve, and he was damn proud of himself! He wasn’t praying. He was boasting.

In the eyes of his fellow Jews, the tax collector was judged as a national traitor because he collected taxes for the Roman occupiers. He most likely, as was all too common in Jesus’ day, extorted more than enough money to cover the tax to Rome. The extra money went into his pocket. Rome didn’t care as long as the taxes kept flowing in. His prayer came from a heart full of sorrow and contrition. He stood alone and naked before God – he was THE sinner. He gave no excuses. He simply stood before God in humility and sorrow.

The parable told us that the tax collector was justified; the Pharisee was not. In other words, the tax collector was healed – his spirit was redirected toward the divine life. The Pharisee left the temple bloated by his own self-importance and spiritual narcissism.

Jesus was teaching us that fruitful prayer must be honest prayer. We can not, and should not, ever compare our spiritual lives to others. When we pray, we need not hide anything from ourselves or God. When we pray openly and honestly, we expose our weaknesses, our strengths, our joys, our sorrows, our successes and our failures.

An open heart is the path to God, and God’s path to us. That’s what it means to be justified to take the life-long journey of spiritual healing.

EXODUS 17:8-13 | 2 TIMOTHY 3:14-4:2. | LUKE 18:1-8

We have another parable for our reflection today. Right up front, we’re given an interpretation. “Jesus told his disciples a parable about the necessity for them to pray always without becoming weary.” We then go on to hear of a widow who’s nagging a corrupt judge to render a just decision regarding her case. We have to remember that in Jesus’ day the Roman judges in Palestine were generally corrupt. Being a poor widow, she wouldn’t have the money to pay him off, so she nagged him so much, and with such intensity that, fearing for his safety, he rendered a just decision for her.

OK. When you’re praying FOR something, never give up. The parable is teaching us that God WILL answer your prayer. But don’t you find it strange how Jesus concluded this teaching? “But when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” I thought about this a lot. A memory came to me that I’d like to share with you.

My uncle never married and lived with his mother his entire life. He was alcoholic. My grandmother prayed for him every day. I know she did because she asked me to pray for him, too. She had tremendous faith. She went to Mass every day and often brought me to rosary and benediction in the afternoon. God was her rock, the solid foundation she stood on. Two weeks after she died at the age of 78, her son died. Did God answer her prayers?

I look at it this way. My grandmother was a pillar of strength. She prayed. She wept. She never gave up on God. Her faith in God kept her going and kept her strong. She was the pillar her son clung to for many years of his life though he would never had admitted it. She died a valiant woman. My uncle died a son who never lost his mother’s love. My uncle died healed and redeemed by that love.

God’s love is a mystery. When our faith compels us to pray for one another, to pray for peace, to pray for healing, we dip our hands into that mystery. We sign ourselves with it. That’s the faith the son of Man will search out. That’s the faith that redeems the world.

2 KINGS 5:14-17. |. 2 TIMOTHY 2:8-13 | LUKE 17:11-19

We often turn to this account of the ten lepers who were cured by Jesus. We read it on Thanksgiving Day as a reminder to be thankful for all God has given us. But that sentiment, though good and noble, only brushes the surface of its teaching. Let’s look at the passage closely.

Jesus was making his last journey to Jerusalem. He’ll be arrested there and executed. He and his disciples were making their way through Galilee, the northern most area of what today we call Israel, just west of the Golan Heights. Jesus grew up there in Nazareth. The group was heading south to Jerusalem in Judea and were going to make their way through unfriendly Samaria. The hatred between Jews and Samaritans could be attested to by a gauche custom that Jews had if they were unfortunate enough to pass through Samaritan territory. Upon leaving, they would take off their sandals and beat the unclean dust of Samaria from them so they wouldn’t pollute the pure soil of Israel with it.

The group was about to go through the town gate. They were most likely planning to buy provisions or, perhaps, to spend the night. They suddenly heard voices shouting out, “Jesus, Master, have pity on us.” A group of lepers had spotted him. They may have had a camp outside the town since they were forbidden to enter. Even at this moment they were some fifty yards away and as was the custom.

Jesus shouted back at them. “Go. Show yourselves to the priests.” Only a priest, after examining a leper, had the authority to declare a person cured and therefore admitted back into society.

The group of lepers started to walk away, presumably going to the priests. As they walked away they were cured. The blotches and ulcers dried up leaving no trace of the disease. One of the lepers realized that he was cured and returned to Jesus to offer profound thanks. Jesus told the leper, “Stand up and go! Your faith has saved you.” The ten lepers were cured. One was saved. What’s going on here.

Luke’s gospel is interesting in that it stresses the theme of journey. After Mary was told that she was to be the mother of the Messiah she traveled to her cousin Elizabeth. Mary traveled again to Bethlehem where she gave birth to her child. She traveled with

Jesus and Joseph to Egypt when Herod was determined to kill her child. When he came to adulthood Jesus traveled the length and breadth of Judea, Galilee and Samaria. He also traveled to the areas we today call Syria, Lebanon and Jordan. Along the way, he and his disciples stopped to have dinner with a variety of people, friends and foes alike. He taught along the way and healed people along the way. Some literally followed him, others followed him by changing their hearts. Some were cured.

These ten lepers were sent on a journey to present themselves to the priests. From there they would return to society. But one returned to Jesus before he went to the priests. This was a special person. He wasn’t a Jew. He was rejected by society because of his illness, and was rejected by the Jews because he was a Samaritan. He wasn’t just cured he was saved. He was saved when his journey brought him back to Jesus to give thanks.

Luke’s theme of journey, meeting Jesus along paths of life, is an important part of this account. This man’s journey had led him away from the comfort of society and family to the horrible isolation of leprosy. He knew Jesus was a healer and so he screamed out to him for help. But unlike the other nine he took another road. He took short journey back to Jesus. He knelt down and gave thanks.

This journey is oh so subtle, but so beautiful. To give thanks, efharisto in Greek, would have rung a bell in the ear of every first century Christian. This was a reference to the Eucharistic gathering of the Christian community. This social outcast, this man in need of healing, found his way home. He was saved. He recognized Jesus, reached out to him and was healed by him, and when he opened his heart in thanksgiving he became one with the great community of thanksgiving, the Eucharistic community.

We’re all parts of various communities. But one is especially life-giving, the Christian community. In our gatherings we meet Jesus in the teachings he delivers to us. We’re strengthened to continue our journey when he feeds us with himself, the bread of life. We’re healed and saved when, like the leper, we return over and over again to give thanks.

Today’s gospel passage begins with the disciples petitioning Jesus. “Increase our faith!” They’re saying this with their hands thrown up in the air in despair. Jesus had just told them that they must always forgive a brother who has wronged them. He put a number on it – seven times – even seven times in one day! The rabbis taught that a person would be perfect if they forgave a brother three times. Jesus doubled that number and added another one for good measure. He was serious about it. The ability to forgive was essential for his disciples. He followed up by noting a common practice.

When the master of the house sees his slaves coming in from the fields at the end of the day, he doesn’t ask them to sit at his table and have dinner with him. He expects them to begin making his dinner and then serving him and his family. They will eat later.

Jesus’ example understandably rubs us the wrong way. But his message behind the example needs to be heard, and should challenge us just as it challenged his disciples that day. We, too, should be throwing our hands up in the air crying, “Lord, increase our faith!”

Forgive. Forgive. Forgive. Work. Work. Work.

Jesus is warning all of us that being a Christian is hard work. Living the life of a disciple is a challenge every day. There’s a teaching, there’s a parable meant for every single one of us. That’s why we read them over and over again every time we celebrate our Eucharist. Every time we hear them, we hear something new. We’re challenged in a new way.

I spend a good deal of time writing these reflections every week. My working to discover the deeper meaning of an event or a teaching isn’t a work of scholarly research. It’s my audience with Jesus. Sometimes he consoles me. Sometimes he heals me. Sometimes he challenges my faith. I struggle with him and his message before I share anything with you.

“When you have done all you were commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.’”

This last line of the gospel passage isn’t meant to be a guilt trip. It’s a plea not to give up. Every single day of our lives offer an opportunity to grow. We won’t be finished growing until we hear him say, “Come, you blessed of my Father; inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.”

“There was a rich man who dressed in purple garments and fine linen and dined sumptuously each day. And lying at his door was a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who would gladly eaten his fill of scraps that fell from the rich man’s table. Dogs even used to come and lick his sores.”

That’s how today’s parable begins. In Jesus day it was common for wealthy families to enjoy open air dining. Sometimes, their dining area, though elevated, was visible from the street. That’s the picture we’ve given as the setting for this parable.

The wealthy man loved to entertain. He loved to wear the highest quality, and most stylish clothes. Most likely, his guests did, too. He loved food, too, and was lavish in what he served. Dinner was always party time. These banquets were formal events, so people reclined on lounges around a central low-standing table. There was no silverware. People used thin slices of bread to scoop the food from the common dishes. Occasionally, food would fall to the floor only to the snatched up by the house lap dogs that had free reign of the residence.

Lazarus, a sick beggar, would lie on the side of the road watching the revelers. Not only was he suffering from the open sores on his body, he suffered the all-consuming pain of malnutrition.

Jesus then took this scene and replayed it in a spiritual plane. The scene was quite different. It

became a reverse reality revealing the inner life of each person. The rich man was suffering “torment.” In the gospels it’s often described by the phrase “wailing and gnashing of teeth.” He had imprisoned himself in an empty isolated world experiencing the horrible, incurable, suffering of regret, of missed opportunity, of failure, of soul loss. The rich man was trapped within himself. Part of his suffering was that he saw another world far off, and saw Lazarus there. Lazarus who had ascended was seated beside Abraham, the greatest of the patriarchs. The wretched, suffering man he never noticed was in glory.

Even the dogs in the rich man house reached out to Lazarus. They comforted him by licking his sores. The rich man never saw Lazarus lying along the road. The rich man never saw the sores, never saw the outlines of Lazarus’ ribs. His wealth wasn’t his problem. Loving food wasn’t his problem. Partying wasn’t his problem. He was self-absorbed. He never developed the freedom of spirit to care for others. Little by little his soul starved to death.

The moral of this parable is simple, and disturbing. If we don’t see, if we don’t feel, if we don’t care, we’ll starve to death. That’s soul loss. This spiritual principle doesn’t only apply to an individual. It’s social and communal as well. If a nation refuses to see, refuses to care, refuses to feel, it too will die. It will lose its soul.

As the gospels say, “Let the one who has ears to hear, hear.”

We have three parables to contemplate today. Each in its own way carries an important teaching. The context for the delivery of these parables needs to be noted. “Tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to Jesus, but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain saying, ‘This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.’”

Jesus’ teaching was attracting the outcasts of Israel. They were Jews who were either non-observant, or who were socially unacceptable in Jewish society like the taxcollectors who worked for the Roman occupiers. These Jews were considered traitors. Jesus welcomed them, and even ate with them. This wasn’t accidental. In the culture of Jesus’ day, one sat down to eat with another to enter into communion with that person. Jesus was giving these sinners and tax collectors absolution by the mere fact of his eating with them.

Jesus, turned from the tax collectors and sinners and addressed the Pharisees. Each of the parables that Jesus spoke that day highlighted an aspect of God’s personality, an aspect the Pharisees had long forgotten. The parables highlight God’s love that is continually reaching out to each and every one of us, saint and sinner alike.

The first parable presented God as a shepherd totally dedicated to the safety of his flock. When one of his sheep got separated from the flock, he went out and searched until he found that sheep. God doesn’t punish the sheep for getting itself lost. God picks it up and lovingly returns it to the safety of the community, the flock. Jesus ended the parable by noting that the angels in heaven threw a party to celebrate the return of the lost sheep.

Jesus followed up with another image. A woman had ten silver coins and lost one. Before we look at the parable there are some things we need to note. This silver coin was a drachma, worth about a day’s wage. For ordinary people who lived very close to the edge, this loss of a coin was a crisis. We also need to know that the homes of the common people were quite minimal, usually one room with a dirt floor and a very small opening near the ceiling to let in a bit of light and some fresh air.

In the parable, a woman lost one of the ten coins she had saved. She was panicking! She had to find it or her family would be in trouble. Imagine a family living in one

dark room. To find the coin she had to turn everything upside down, and inside out, sweep the floor over and over again with the hope of catching a glimmer of light from the lost coin. When she finally found it, she called in her friends and had a party!

We’re God’s treasure! God can’t live without us. God is willing to sweep and dig and do whatever is necessary to find any one of us who might be lost. When we’re found, there’s going to be a party!

The third parable is the crème de la crème of all parables, the prodigal son. I’ll just focus on the father in this parable. His younger son asked him for his inheritance, a thing unheard of in Jesus’ time. This was half of his property, half his live-stock, and half his liquid wealth. Even though the family would suffer a huge financial hit, the father gave it all to this son. The son left his father, his family and his religion and went off on his own. His life was out of control. He lost everything, ended up penniless, and without friends. He decided to return and begged his father to accept him as a slave.

The Pharisees and most of the people who had heard this parable would have thought, “if this were my son I’d consider him dead!” But the father in the parable not only accepted his son back, he reinstated him as an heir once again eligible to inherit fifty percent of all the father had! The father even killed the fatted calf and threw a party for everyone he knew.

Everybody who heard this parable must have thought, “this father is crazy!” Yes, this father WAS crazy, and God is AS crazy as this father because there’s nothing any of us can do that could divert God’s love from us!

Jesus is teaching the Pharisees, and us, three things. First. We’re so special in God’s eyes that nothing we ever do can separate us from God’s fatherly love. This love flows through all the moments of our lives. God wants us to be safe. God values us as a treasure. Second. None of us should ever judge a brother or sister or ostracize them. We should eat with them. We should pull them back into the loving and healing community.

Third. We should throw a party every time someone returns to the community, because our crazy God has successfully caught up with them and given them another chance at life.

We have three parables to contemplate today. Each in its own way carries an important teaching. The context for the delivery of these parables needs to be noted. “Tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to Jesus, but the Pharisees and scribes began to complain saying, ‘This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.’”

Jesus’ teaching was attracting the outcasts of Israel. They were Jews who were either non-observant, or who were socially unacceptable in Jewish society like the taxcollectors who worked for the Roman occupiers. These Jews were considered traitors. Jesus welcomed them, and even ate with them. This wasn’t accidental. In the culture of Jesus’ day, one sat down to eat with another to enter into communion with that person. Jesus was giving these sinners and tax collectors absolution by the mere fact of his eating with them.

Jesus, turned from the tax collectors and sinners and addressed the Pharisees. Each of the parables that Jesus spoke that day highlighted an aspect of God’s personality, an aspect the Pharisees had long forgotten. The parables highlight God’s love that is continually reaching out to each and every one of us, saint and sinner alike.

The first parable presented God as a shepherd totally dedicated to the safety of his flock. When one of his sheep got separated from the flock, he went out and searched until he found that sheep. God doesn’t punish the sheep for getting itself lost. God picks it up and lovingly returns it to the safety of the community, the flock. Jesus ended the parable by noting that the angels in heaven threw a party to celebrate the return of the lost sheep.

Jesus followed up with another image. A woman had ten silver coins and lost one. Before we look at the parable there are some things we need to note. This silver coin was a drachma, worth about a day’s wage. For ordinary people who lived very close to the edge, this loss of a coin was a crisis. We also need to know that the homes of the common people were quite minimal, usually one room with a dirt floor and a very small opening near the ceiling to let in a bit of light and some fresh air.

In the parable, a woman lost one of the ten coins she had saved. She was panicking! She had to find it or her family would be in trouble. Imagine a family living in one

dark room. To find the coin she had to turn everything upside down, and inside out, sweep the floor over and over again with the hope of catching a glimmer of light from the lost coin. When she finally found it, she called in her friends and had a party!

We’re God’s treasure! God can’t live without us. God is willing to sweep and dig and do whatever is necessary to find any one of us who might be lost. When we’re found, there’s going to be a party!

The third parable is the crème de la crème of all parables, the prodigal son. I’ll just focus on the father in this parable. His younger son asked him for his inheritance, a thing unheard of in Jesus’ time. This was half of his property, half his live-stock, and half his liquid wealth. Even though the family would suffer a huge financial hit, the father gave it all to this son. The son left his father, his family and his religion and went off on his own. His life was out of control. He lost everything, ended up penniless, and without friends. He decided to return and begged his father to accept him as a slave.

The Pharisees and most of the people who had heard this parable would have thought, “if this were my son I’d consider him dead!” But the father in the parable not only accepted his son back, he reinstated him as an heir once again eligible to inherit fifty percent of all the father had! The father even killed the fatted calf and threw a party for everyone he knew.

Everybody who heard this parable must have thought, “this father is crazy!” Yes, this father WAS crazy, and God is AS crazy as this father because there’s nothing any of us can do that could divert God’s love from us!

Jesus is teaching the Pharisees, and us, three things. First. We’re so special in God’s eyes that nothing we ever do can separate us from God’s fatherly love. This love flows through all the moments of our lives. God wants us to be safe. God values us as a treasure. Second. None of us should ever judge a brother or sister or ostracize them. We should eat with them. We should pull them back into the loving and healing community.

Third. We should throw a party every time someone returns to the community, because our crazy God has successfully caught up with them and given them another chance at life.

Jesus is scary this week. We catch up with him and a large crowd walking along the road. He’s on his final trip to Jerusalem. His death is drawing near. He suddenly stops and begins throwing out one brutal challenge after another. Just look at them! “If anyone come to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” We have to hate the people closest to us if we hope to be his disciple!? He must be speaking in hyperbole!

“Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” We know what the cross was all about. It was the worst form of Roman execution. It involved brutal scourging, nailing a person to a cross beam and hanging them from it until they died. This form of execution, always staged in busy public areas, could take days to complete. The crowd would have been shocked by Jesus’ call to hate their family, but would probably have taken it as exaggeration. This proclamation that the disciple must even be willing to submit to crucifixion must have sent chills into every person listening to him. Even if he were exaggerating, this statement was terrifying.

To break the tension, he went on to spin two short parables that stressed the need to think seriously before taking on a commitment. He then concluded his teaching with one final zinger. “Anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions he cannot be my disciple.”

Let’s move beyond the exaggeration, and listen with open mind and heart to Jesus’ teaching.

He’s warning us that our commitment to him will require even more love than we have for our father, mother, wife and children, sisters and brothers.

He’s telling us that following him will not be one grand picnic because the cross casts its shadow far and wide. Think of the Christians crucified by ISIS. Think of the Christians in Nigeria threatened with forced conversion. Think of the Christians in India, Ethiopia, Nicaragua, Cameroon and so many other places throughout the world who live with the daily threat of violence because of their faith.

American Christians may feel safe from violence. We may feel safe because we’re financially secure. But “security” can be a challenge to true discipleship because it can make us complacent.

Jesus is all love, peace and harmony. But he’s scary, too. He’s challenging us. He’s leading us to the narrow gate. Today, let’s ask ourselves a serious question. Are we courageous enough to follow him down that road?

The message in the gospel passage seems quite straight forward. Be humble! Nice sentiment, but couldn’t Jesus do better than that? Everybody recognizes that humility is a virtue. Humble people are certainly more attractive than pompous people. I have to say that this particular message can evoke a polite yawn. So, let’s look at this passage more closely because there’s a message here, one that the Pharisees and the dinner guests probably heard quite clearly but is, perhaps, a bit too subtle for us.

There are two messages in this passage. The first is addressed to the guests. This wasn’t a banquet; it was a Sabbath meal, the meal commemorating God’s resting in total and complete harmony with all that had been created.

Jesus noticed that the guests were acting in a way that upset the harmony of the Sabbath. Where a guest sits at the table is very important in the Middle Eastern culture. There’s a social hierarchy that’s followed. However, the guests at this Sabbath Meal were anticipating the host’s seating plan and were seating themselves in places they presumed would reflect their social status.

In a gentle way, Jesus played to their pride. He told them to come to the table and choose the last place. Chances are that the host would invite them to a more prestigious seat. They’ll look humble to everyone else, and feel a boost of pride as they take a higher seat.

His message to the Pharisees was quite different. He told them not to invite relatives, or friends or influential people to their lunches, dinners and

banquets. Here, he moved away from the present setting. The Sabbath meal began at the family table but ordinarily expanded to friends, relatives and visitors. Strangely, Jesus told them NOT to invite the regular guests. Instead, he told them to invite “the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind.”

Jesus was telling the Pharisees to prepare themselves for a new meal, in a new time, the Messianic Time. He used images that the prophet Isaiah used in his description of the messianic time.

Say to those whose hearts are frightened,

Be strong! Fear not! Here is your God, coming with vindication;

with divine recompense God comes to save you.

Then will the eyes of the blind be opened,

and the ears of the deaf be cleared;

Then will the lame leap like a stag,

then the tongue of the dumb shall sing.

(Isaiah 35:4-6)

Jesus was telling the Pharisees, and everyone gathered there, that the Messianic Time had arrived. He was telling them that this Sabbath table was about to transform into the table in the Kingdom of God. At this table the blind would see, the deaf would hear, the lame would leap up and the mute would speak. Everyone was invited to this table, and everyone was special at this table, saint and sinner alike. Soon, the Host would wash the feet of his guests. Soon, at this table, the host would be the food of eternal life.

Someone asked Jesus a question, “Lord, will only a few people be saved?” Good question, but before we think about Jesus’ answer, let’s think a little more about this man’s question.

This man isn’t referring to the end of the world and the final judgment as Christians think about it. Jewish tradition has long spoken about the “Day of the Lord,” the day of universal judgment. It’s commemorated in the Yom Kippur liturgy in the prayer, Un’tane Tokef. “The great shofar is sounded, and a still, soft voice is heard; the angels tremble, fear and dread seize them, and they exclaim: ‘the Day of Judgment is here!’ All created beings pass before You, one by one, like a flock of sheep. As a shepherd examines his flock, making his sheep pass under his staff, so do You cause to pass before You every living soul.”

Jewish tradition held that Jews faithful to the covenant would be the first to pass safely under the staff of judgment. They were God’s chosen people. They would be saved from the destruction that would follow the day of judgment. They would have their names written in the Book of Life. Everyone else would perish.

Jesus’ answer would have been quite troubling for this man. “Strive to enter through the narrow gate…for behold, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.” Knocking on God’s door and proclaiming, “Here I am,” isn’t enough. We have to shed what belongs to the world as we know it: hatred, greed, injustice, violence, inequality. Jesus is saying, “Sorry, being Jewish isn’t enough. You have to change. You have to see a new world”

We Christians have to hear Jesus’ message, too. Being a Christian isn’t enough. We have to change, too, but it’s difficult, because we’re so used to life as it is. Finding the narrow gate means discovering the way to a new world. We have to fine-tune our vision, see the world for what it is, judge it, and then turn our sights on discovering a new world, the Kingdom of God.

PRAYER:

Our Father who art in heaven

hallowed by Thy name.

Thy kingdom come,

Thy will be done on earth

as it is in heaven.