Through Pastor David Jang’s sermon, we revisit the true meaning of the Lord’s Prayer and the vision of the Kingdom of God. This column unpacks—with rich theological insight—the holy calling and eschatological hope embedded in the petition, “Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”
As
you walk the streets of Barcelona, Spain, you may come face to face with a
strange yet majestic structure that hardly seems possible for human hands to
have raised. It is Antoni Gaudí’s unfinished masterpiece, the Sagrada
Família (the Basilica of the Holy Family). In designing this
cathedral, Gaudí envisioned not a mere building but a confession of faith
embedded in every stone—seeking to embody a “Bible made of stone” upon the
earth. Still under construction after more than 140 years, the cathedral powerfully
testifies to how fierce and sacred the process is by which heavenly perfection
is worked out on this imperfect ground. We often long only for a completed
heaven while turning away from the realities beneath our feet. Yet genuine
faith is found in the holy sweat of those who carry the blueprint of heaven and
patiently shape the rough stones of the earth.
Pastor David
Jang (Olivet University) offers precisely this kind of profound
theological insight into what might be called “holy construction.” The central
petition of the Lord’s Prayer—“Your kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth
as it is in heaven”—is not a religious incantation. It is a majestic
declaration of how the redeemed are to see history and reality, and how they
are to live within them. It is a roadmap for life.
Like
a Watchman Waiting for the Morning Star
Where
is our prayer truly aimed? Pastor David Jang urges clarity about the object and
relational nature of prayer through the opening words of the Lord’s Prayer:
“Our Father in heaven.” While countless religions cry out to vague objects or
elements of nature, we are granted the privilege of calling the living,
personal God “Father.” This assumes the mysterious union and intimacy Jesus
speaks of in the Gospel of John—“I in you, and you in Me,” a mutual indwelling.
Within
this intimacy, we discover the first purpose of life: “Hallowed be Your name.”
In stark contrast to the misery of a prisoner stripped of his name and reduced
to a number, the believer finds identity and worth by glorifying the name of
God. The strength to resist sin and keep holiness—especially in hidden places
where no one sees—flows from a sacred burden: my life carries God’s honor.
Every breath we take and every field of service we enter must become, in the
end, a sanctuary of worship for His name.
A
Holy City Rising on Rugged Ground
The
most striking portion of the sermon is its interpretive expansion of the
“Kingdom of God.” Pastor David Jang offers an intriguing insight by examining
differences in English Bible translations. Where the King James Version
(KJV) uses the phrase “in earth,” suggesting an immanent expansion of
God’s kingdom—like leaven spreading quietly into every corner of the
world—the New International Version (NIV) phrase “on earth”
implies a visible, architectural, even engineering-like image: something being
built upon the ground. This suggests that the fruit we bear here must not
remain abstract or merely conceptual.
Some
say that because the world is growing increasingly corrupt, effort on this
earth is ultimately meaningless. Others believe humanity can build a utopia by
its own strength. Yet biblical balance is not merely “somewhere between” those
extremes—it is a mystery that embraces both. As 2 Peter teaches, we must not
lose the eschatological tension of looking toward a new heaven and a new earth,
and yet we must also build the Kingdom of God within the time called “today.”
Concrete acts—founding a university, building a library, opening new mission
fields—are the lived proof of the prayer, “Your will be done on earth.” This is
akin to Gaudí’s lifelong devotion: chiseling stone to reveal the glory of God.
Today,
Where Yesterday’s Forgiveness Meets Tomorrow’s Hope
The
true gospel is not escape, but transformation. Through his sermon, Pastor David
Jang reminds us that we are not people shaped by a “cyclical view of history,”
but by a “linear view”—creation, fall, and restoration. Like watchmen who know
that deepening darkness signals a nearer dawn, we are to stretch our necks in
longing for the Day of the Lord. That earnest expectation becomes the driving
force that leads us into holy conduct and godliness today.
The
Lord’s Prayer does not remain in lofty discourse; it descends into the details
of daily life. The present is there in asking for daily bread. The past is
addressed through the untying of knots by forgiveness. The future appears in
the plea not to fall into temptation. Especially, if we cannot resolve past
wounds and relational fractures through forgiveness, we cannot take even one
step forward. To clear the past as those who have received grace, to lay the
bricks of today’s calling, and to trust in the victory God will grant by
delivering us from evil—this is what it means to live the Lord’s Prayer.
Now
we must not hesitate, but proclaim: “Your will be done on earth as it is in
heaven.” This confession must be realized on the concrete “earth” of our homes,
workplaces, and mission fields. As Pastor David Jang emphasized, we must offer
our hands and feet to the work of rebuilding what has collapsed and
constructing new hope—with an architectural and engineering kind of faith. On
the red soil of Africa, amid the passion of South America, and on every ground
we tread, may the will of heaven be established like a fortified city. For
prayer begins on the lips, but it is completed in life—as holy labor.
davidjang.org
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