Pastor Jang Jae-hyung takes the petition in the Lord’s Prayer, “Give us today our daily bread,” as a central axis to offer a careful interpretation of the kingdom of God and history, matter and spirituality, forgiveness and the Holy Spirit, and the transition from a possession-centered life to a love-centered life. Going beyond ordinary economic needs, this is a theological and practical meditation that deeply reflects on the Christian mode of existence that moves from having mode to loving mode through the spirituality of the “three loaves of bread” that give life to others.
At the center of the Lord’s Prayer in Matthew 6 lies the
petition, “Give us today our daily bread.” It is so familiar that we easily let
it slide by as a merely formal phrase. But in the preaching of Pastor Jang
Jae-hyung (David Jang), this verse is freshly illuminated as a decisive key
that runs through the whole of the Christian’s ontological purpose, direction
in life, and form of love. He shows in detail that this prayer is not just a
modest everyday request—“give me enough food to live on today”—but a profound
theological plea offered at the point where history moving toward the kingdom
of God, our concrete economic life, and our love for others intersect. And at
the conclusion of all this interpretation stands the shift of perspective that
Pastor Jang repeatedly stresses: the transition from having mode to loving
mode—that is, the gospel declaration that the essence of life is not “how much
you own,” but “how you love and exist.”
The Lord’s Prayer begins by proclaiming two fundamental
premises: “Hallowed be your name” and “Your kingdom come.” Pastor Jang
Jae-hyung (founder of Olivet University) interprets these two petitions as
basic propositions that define the purpose of human existence. Faced with the
questions “Why do I exist?” and “Where is history heading?” Scripture gives a
clear answer: we are created to live so that God’s name is hallowed, God’s
kingdom comes, and God’s will—already perfectly fulfilled in heaven—is realized
here on earth as well. As Hebrews testifies that “this world is a copy and
shadow of what is in heaven,” he understands the heavenly kingdom as the true
reality, and this world as the shadow and projection of that reality. History,
then, is not a random wandering, but a great journey converging toward the
eschatological conclusion already determined in heaven: the kingdom of God. It
is highly significant that the next petition in the Lord’s Prayer, “Give us
today our daily bread,” is located on top of this view of history.
What is striking is that immediately after this majestic
cosmic vision is proclaimed, an extremely down-to-earth subject appears—bread,
rice, money. “Daily bread” is by no means an abstract spiritual symbol. As
English Bibles translate it, it refers quite literally to the bread we eat each
day, the daily table, the living expenses we need today. Pastor Jang calls this
point “a thoroughly honest prayer.” The prayer God taught us never demands an
unrealistic spirituality that says, “You take care of your material needs
yourselves.” Rather, God commands us, “Ask for what you need to live. Earnestly
ask for the bread you need today.” At the same time, Deuteronomy 8:3 states
clearly, “Man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from
the mouth of the LORD.” Bread—that is, food and money—is a necessary condition
of life, but never a sufficient one. Biblical spirituality stands within this
tension: acknowledging the importance of material things, yet refusing to grant
them absolute value. Human beings must live by the Word, yet that Word never
ignores our need for bread.
At this point a unique Greek word in the Lord’s Prayer
reveals its meaning in a fresh way. The word translated “daily”—epiousios—is a
rare expression that appears only in the Lord’s Prayer in the entire New
Testament, and carries the nuance of “for today,” “necessary for that day,”
“indispensable for sustaining existence.” In other words, this prayer is not a
petition seeking to justify greedy accumulation, but a request for “enough to
live this day by faith,” a sufficiency that allows us to live in dependence on
God. Yet in Pastor Jang’s interpretation, this “enough” never stops at being
merely my own personal sufficiency. Here Luke 11 offers a crucial insight.
Luke 11, together with the version of the Lord’s Prayer
that Luke transmits, condenses the core themes of prayer into three: the
kingdom of God, daily bread, and forgiveness. At the front stands the kingdom
of God, the terminus and goal of history; at the end stands forgiveness, which
restructures all human relationships. And in between, right in the middle of
concrete reality, lies “daily bread.” Like a bridge connecting the two great
pillars of the kingdom and forgiveness, the petition for daily bread is positioned
there. Throughout the whole process of living for the kingdom of God, forgiving
others, and restoring broken relationships, the very practical needs of bread,
rice, and money are always involved. God not only allows these material needs
themselves to become topics of prayer, but also teaches us about a life of love
and about his kingdom through them.
Luke then introduces the parable of “the man who went to
his friend at midnight” to explain the weight of this daily bread. In Jewish
society, knocking on someone’s door at midnight was a serious breach of common
sense and courtesy. Once the door was shut, the day was over; to knock when the
family was already lying down asleep together in one room was almost like
invading the inner circle of the household. Yet a man comes to his friend’s
house at midnight, bangs on the door, and says, “Friend, lend me three loaves
of bread.” Not one, not even two, but three. Pastor Jang gives theological
symbolism to this expression “three loaves.” To take care of one meal for
oneself, one loaf is enough. Two loaves would be enough for me to eat now and
to have one more meal later. But three loaves mean a portion that goes beyond
myself and can be shared with another—a surplus prepared for someone else. To
ask for three loaves is to ask not only “to fill my own hunger,” but “to feed
the hungry guest who has just come to my house.” At this moment the concept of
“daily bread” expands dramatically. Daily bread is no longer “the bare minimum
for me to survive alone,” but “a sufficiency by which I and my neighbor
together can live as human beings.”
The Jewish people, bearing the Old Testament spirit
expressed in the saying “better to lend than to borrow,” are a people who value
honor and courtesy and have a culture that tries not to put others into
unnecessary trouble. For such a Jew to knock on a door at midnight and demand
three loaves of bread is a bold decision that goes beyond common sense. Yet
Jesus evaluates this “request so persistent it seems rude”—this shameless
persistence (gangcheong)—positively. “Even though he will not get up and give
him anything because he is his friend, yet because of his impudence he will
rise and give him whatever he needs.” Pastor Jang reads in this verse a
powerful driving force: “a love that goes beyond oneself toward the other.”
What leads this man out into the street at midnight, to a firmly closed door,
and into a stance of unrelenting persistence is not simply material lack, but
an urgent love that wants to feed a hungry guest. That love moves the heart of
the friend who has bread and in the end makes him give, “as much as he needs,”
generously and sufficiently.
At this point Pastor Jang directly criticizes the having
mode that dominates modern civilization. Our everyday language overflows with
“I have…”. We live in an age where the house I have, the assets I have, the
credentials I have, the connections I have seem to be my very identity and
value. But this possession-centered paradigm structurally presupposes lack. No
matter how much we have, it always feels insufficient; we think only having
more will calm our anxiety. By contrast, the gospel calls for a shift from
having mode to being mode, and further to loving mode. We must go beyond merely
asking, “How can I exist in a truly human way?” to asking, “How can I exist
while willingly emptying myself for the sake of others?” The expression loving
mode, as Pastor Jang uses it, points precisely here. It is a way of life that
moves from seeking daily bread only to meet my own needs to the three loaves of
bread that also embrace my neighbor’s needs—a mode of existence that uses what
I possess as a channel of love. When this shift actually takes place, we no
longer evaluate life by “How much have I accumulated?” but interpret it by “How
deeply have I loved?”
Luke 11 then records the words we know so well: “Ask, and
it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened
to you.” Pastor Jang reads this not as a generic slogan encouraging prayer, but
as a promise closely linked to the preceding parable of the friend at midnight.
The starting point of prayer is the belief that “there truly is a personal God
who answers when we ask.” If God did not exist, human life could only end in
tragic futility. But the moment we come to know God, an entirely different
horizon of possibility opens up. Prayer is not vague self-suggestion; it is a
concrete act of drawing near to God the Father who answers. And the promise
that “everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who
knocks it will be opened” shows how trustworthy the foundation of our
relationship with God is.
Luke immediately unfolds this truth even more persuasively
through the relationship between parents and children. What father, if his son
asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg, will
give him a scorpion? Even evil human fathers know how to give good gifts to
their children—how much more, then, our Father in heaven. And then comes the
climactic sentence: “How much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy
Spirit to those who ask him!” Pastor Jang presents this verse as the ultimate
goal of prayer. Among the many gifts we receive through prayer, the most
decisive and precious is the Holy Spirit. In the Old Testament era, if once in
several centuries a person received the anointing of the Spirit, the whole
nation would take notice. But now, he says, an age has dawned in which anyone
who asks may receive the Holy Spirit as a gift. As Romans 8:32 declares, God
has already not spared his own Son but given him up for us all. The one who
gave even his Son has no reason to withhold the Holy Spirit or anything else.
Here an important question arises: How are “the prayer for
daily bread” and “the gift of the Holy Spirit” connected? The Holy Spirit is
not merely the Spirit who bestows supernatural gifts, but the Spirit who
reshapes the very structure of our desires. He dismantles the greed and
self-absorption of the having mode and plants within us the love and
self-emptying of the loving mode. A person who has received the Spirit prays
for daily bread in a different way. Rather than asking for secure systems and
safety nets that will let me live comfortably on my own, I begin to ask boldly
for what is needed for the kingdom of God—to feed the hungry, clothe the naked,
and raise up the oppressed. In other words, the Spirit pours into us the
courage to ask for “three loaves of bread.” He is the one who leads us to seek
a sufficiency that can sustain both ourselves and others, and to have a holy
shamelessness that will gladly knock even at midnight because of love.
In addition, Pastor Jang offers a symbolic interpretation
of the scene where Jesus and Peter pay the temple tax. Taken literally, the
incident in which Jesus tells Peter, “Go to the lake and throw out your line.
Take the first fish you catch; open its mouth and you will find a coin. Take it
and give it to them for my tax and yours,” is a story of miraculous provision.
But he also reads this scene as a spiritual parable: “Gain a person and solve
the problem together.” As the kingdom of God expands, new needs arise—but at
the same time new co-workers, new resources, and new relationships are given.
When one soul turns to the Lord, it does not end with that individual’s
salvation; it is the gaining of a friend who will dedicate himself together for
the kingdom of God. In this sense, the prayer for daily bread is also a prayer
for people. What is supplied is not only money and resources, but friends who
will break bread together and live for the kingdom.
In modern capitalist society, Christians stand on a
constant testing ground. The pressure to own more, the anxiety-driven marketing
that says you are only safe if you have more, and the performance mentality
that demands ever-faster growth have seeped deep into the church as well. Even
faith itself easily degenerates into a functional tool for the question, “How
can I use God to design my survival and success a bit more securely?” It is
precisely at this point that Pastor Jang’s cry, “Turn from having mode to
loving mode,” becomes a radical and challenging proclamation. We are to pray
for daily bread, but not for ourselves alone; we are to pray for the kingdom of
God and for others. If I have two coats, one exists for me to wear, and the
other exists to give to someone else. The three loaves of bread are not there
for me to eat my fill, but as surplus prepared to feed the hungry friend who
comes at midnight. From this perspective, the very definition of abundance is
fundamentally reconfigured. The truly rich person is not the one who has much,
but the one who shares much. As 2 Corinthians 8:9 says, the Lord, though he was
rich, became poor for our sake, so that through his poverty we might become
truly rich. A disciple who follows him must inevitably walk the same path.
Such theological insight has power only when it is
connected to concrete forms of life. When we pray, “Give us today our daily
bread,” we can confess like this: “God, please provide what I need to live
today, and also grant a surplus sufficient to feed, clothe, and care for
someone else. Let my rice jar, my wallet, my time, and my talents be not a
storehouse for myself alone but a channel for your kingdom.” At the same time,
we must ask ourselves: “God, among the daily bread I have already received, is there
a portion you originally gave me to pass on to someone else that I am clutching
as my own?” When the Holy Spirit shines on our conscience and thoughts with
this question, we begin to redesign our everyday consumption, use of money,
relationships, and allocation of time. This reconfiguration is precisely the
process of conversion from having mode to loving mode.
Furthermore, the prayer for daily bread must always lead
into a prayer for forgiveness. Through the structure kingdom of God–daily
bread–forgiveness, Luke shows that a genuine life of the kingdom cannot stand
unless it addresses both material realities and relationships at the same time.
To live for the kingdom necessarily requires the restoration of relationships,
and true restoration is impossible without forgiveness. Forgiveness is always
the choice of the one who bears loss, the loving decision to reach out first.
In a sense, forgiveness may be an even more difficult kind of “daily bread”
than sharing material goods. If there is a measure of patience, forbearance,
and renewed love that I must supply each day to a particular person, that too
is an essential need I must ask God for. “God, today again, grant me enough
inner nourishment to love this person once more.” In this way, daily bread is a
rich concept that goes beyond bread and rice and money to encompass the whole
invisible stock of love, forgiveness, and endurance.
In the end, the world into which Pastor Jang’s preaching
invites us is simple, yet at the same time demands a radical transformation.
History is flowing toward the kingdom of God, already perfectly fulfilled in
heaven, and we are those who have been sent into this world for that kingdom
within the flow of that history. In that process we must ask for daily bread
every day. We must ask for today’s food, today’s money, and what is needed for
today’s calling and relationships. But that prayer must not remain “a prayer
for my own survival.” It must become a petition to be a channel of love that
feeds, clothes, and cares for the hungry and poor, the marginalized and weak,
thereby bringing the kingdom of God nearer. And at the summit of all these
prayers must stand the prayer for the Holy Spirit, who alone makes such a life
of love possible within us.
“Give us today our daily bread.” Within this short phrase
are condensed the kingdom of God and history, economics and spirituality,
forgiveness and the Holy Spirit, the having mode and the loving mode. It is now
time to move beyond merely reciting this prayer with our lips and to live it
out with our whole existence. As we look today at our table and our wallet, our
schedule and our talents, and the empty spaces deep within our hearts, we can
pray like this: “God, let the daily bread I ask for include three loaves of
bread to save someone’s life, and fill me with your Spirit so that I may keep
on sharing that bread to the end.” This confession is the very heart of the
Lord’s Prayer as Pastor Jang bears witness to it, and the depth of the gospel
contained in the prayer for daily bread.
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