Finding Meaning in a Perfect King

The Lord’s Prayer is filled with royal language. The Father we address in the prayer is said to have a kingdom, and if one has a kingdom, then they are a king. At first, we might believe that we can easily see and relate to God as King, but trust me: there are problems with this. Americans are anti-king by nature. Our nation began with a revolution against the Crown. It’s in our DNA. We vote and we elect, and if we don’t like something, we can speak out against it. Even though in this country we love and cherish these rights, it is important to remember that the Christian faith is not a democracy. It is a monarchy. There is a King. 


In the 2012 movie adaptation of Victor Hugo’s 1862 masterpiece Les Misérables, the opening scene begins with this text appearing on the screen: “1815, Twenty-six years after the start of the French Revolution a king is once again on the throne of France” (Les Misérables, directed by Tom Hooper [Universal Pictures, 2012]).


I remember watching the movie for the first time and automatically being on the side of those who would rebel against the king. At the time, I did not know the historical information surrounding the events, I did not know what good or bad the king had done, and I did not know the motivations of those in rebellion. But it didn’t matter; my default position was that the king must be bad. 



My reaction was not solely due to my American sentiment. The Bible is filled with bad kings. Even the good kings are, well, sort of bad. The quintessential example of this is, of course, King David. David is the king that all other kings are measured against, and even he was an adulterer and a murderer. 



But the king in the Lord’s Prayer is different. He is a good king. He is the true and good and beautiful king. He loves the citizens of his kingdom. He fights for them and is not against them. This is really good news, but make no mistake about it—he is still a monarch. 


This means we don’t elect him, we don’t make deals with him, we don’t bargain with him. The Lord’s Prayer reminds us that there is a throne with all authority, there is someone sitting on it, and it is not us.


Of course, all of this is more good news. It will sound bad only to a people who think they are more fit than God to govern the universe. A good king on the throne is what we want. It becomes a joy to give him our allegiance. And once we give him our allegiance, even more good news emerges. Allegiance brings adoption into the king’s family, which means all those who call on him as Father are of royal position. 


Similar to the word king, sometimes our own personal experience with our own earthly fathers can taint the word. Just as someone who has had only bad kings rule over them might be apprehensive toward a new king, so also someone who has had a bad earthly father might shy away from the idea of calling God “Father.” 


The answer to this dilemma is not to run away from words like king and father, but rather to let the good King and Father reshape our understanding of what those words ought to feel like. Jesus taught us to pray like this for good reason. 


Christian theology has always emphasized the fact that Jesus is both eternal and begotten. He is begotten of the Father, but eternal and without beginning. There was never a time when Jesus did not exist. What this means is that the Father, who begets the Son, has always been Father. He is the eternal Father. There was never a moment when he was not Father. The simple point is this: when we say, “Our Father,” we are addressing God in a manner that he has always been. He has always been and will always be a good Father.


The Lord’s Prayer places your suffering in the context of the great story. Humans have rebelled against the good king. However, the good king did not abandon them. He is returning to make things right. His kingdom will come to bear on the kingdoms of the earth. Your endurance and present faithfulness to the world’s true king matters. There will be a reckoning. So, in the midst of a world filled with pain and suffering: endure, hold fast, stay the course, and remember who you are, what you belong to, and where you are going.



Adapted from When Life Feels Empty by Isaac Serrano. ©2025 by Joseph Isaac Serrano. Used by permission of InterVarsity Press. www.ivpress.com.  



Bio: Isaac Serrano (ThD, Evangelical Seminary) serves as lead pastor at South Valley Community Church in Gilroy, California. He also serves on the leadership team of the ReGeneration Project and is an adjunct professor teaching theology and ministry at Western Seminary. He is the author of When Life Feels Empty: 7 Ancient Practices to Cultivate Meaning.

Link to full bio: https://www.ivpress.com/isaac-serrano


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