John Dominic Crossan calls the Lord's Prayer “the greatest and strangest prayer.” What makes that remark interesting is not merely his conclusion, but the direction of his question.
Crossan points to something simple. All Christians pray the Lord's Prayer. All churches know it. Yet many words over which churches now argue endlessly barely appear at its center: Christ, church, Sunday, denomination, charismatic experience, inerrancy, creationism, end-times systems, or detailed explanations of heaven and hell.
That does not mean those themes are meaningless. The absence of the word “Trinity” from the Lord's Prayer does not make the Trinity unimportant. The fact that the word “resurrection” does not appear directly does not mean resurrection faith is not central to Christianity. The theological reflection and doctrinal formation of the later church should not be treated lightly.
Those priorities are remarkably simple: God's name, God's kingdom, God's will, daily bread, forgiveness of sins, and deliverance from temptation and evil. The prayer Jesus taught his disciples turns first not to religious institutions or denominational identity, but to the most basic relationship between God and human life.
It asks whether God's name, not the church's name, is being hallowed.
It asks whether God's reign and will are being revealed in life, rather than the victory of our institution or camp.
It refuses to ignore actual human survival and communal need in favor of abstract religious language.
It asks not only about private piety, but about relationship, responsibility, forgiveness, restoration, and rescue from evil.
How Far Has Korean Protestantism Drifted from These Priorities?
This question is not comfortable for Korean Protestantism. If we honestly ask what Korean churches have often treated as most important, a very different list comes to mind: church size, offerings, buildings, denominational competition, political influence, the authority of senior pastors, institutional expansion, internal solidarity, doctrinal disputes, and attachment to particular political camps.
Of course, not every Korean church is like this. There are small and faithful communities, churches quietly serving their neighbors, and believers caring for the vulnerable without recognition. It would be unfair to reduce all Korean Protestantism to one negative image. Yet the public face of Korean Protestantism has too often displayed self-certainty, self-defense, and the desire for expansion rather than humble witness to the gospel.
The problem is not merely that some churches have failed morally. The deeper problem is that Korean Protestantism has lost the ability to relativize itself. Within the long history of the church, Korean Protestantism is a late-forming regional tradition. Within global Christianity, it is only a small part. Yet it has sometimes acted as if it were Christianity itself, as if it were God's sole representative, or as if it were the final savior of the world.
When a small branch begins to speak as if it were the whole tree, faith becomes arrogance rather than witness.
Tradition Must Be Respected, but Not Confused with the Gospel
The church does not exist without tradition. Worship forms, creeds, doctrines, biblical interpretation, offices, and communal norms were all shaped in history. A posture that treats tradition lightly is not wise. The problem arises when we cannot distinguish between respecting tradition and absolutizing it.
The church often confuses its own doctrine, institution, and culture with the gospel itself. Korean Protestantism is no exception. Certain worship sensibilities, preaching styles, political tendencies, and church-growth models are sometimes spoken of as if they were the sole biblical standard. But these may be local habits made absolute rather than the universality of the gospel.
The Lord's Prayer exposes this point sharply. At the center of the prayer Jesus taught is not the church's success but God's kingdom; not the victory of a religious group but God's will; not the justification of our own camp but forgiveness; not only abstract discourse about the afterlife but daily bread.
God Is Larger than Korean Protestantism
This sentence is so obvious that it is often forgotten: God is larger than Korean Protestantism. God is larger than any denomination, larger than any theological system, and larger than the church culture of any one nation. God is not trapped inside religious boundaries made by human beings.
The God of Scripture is the Creator of all things. God works across all periods, among all peoples and cultures, and within every sphere of human life. If so, to believe in God must include the humility not to identify one's small tradition with the whole will of God. God works inside the church, but God may also awaken us through conscience, justice, care, wisdom, beauty, tears, and responsibility outside the church.
This does not mean giving up the distinctiveness of Christianity. It means the opposite: holding more deeply to its center. When the church does not lose the center of God's kingdom, God's will, daily bread, forgiveness, and deliverance from evil, it can become more deeply Christian without absolutizing itself.
Recovery Begins by Asking What Is Essential
What Korean Protestantism needs is not stronger self-assertion, more polished publicity, or greater political influence. What it needs first is a question: are we truly treating as important what Jesus treated as important? Have we placed the church's name before God's name, our camp's victory before God's kingdom, church expansion before daily bread, and condemnation before forgiveness?
This is not a question meant to destroy the church. It is a question meant to heal it. A tradition that does not ask about its essence easily becomes an idol. A faith that cannot relativize its own place easily becomes violence. The moment a church speaks more greatly of itself than of God, it no longer proclaims the gospel; it propagates itself.
The Lord's Prayer is short. Yet within that shortness lies a direction to which the church must return. God's name comes first, God's kingdom comes first, and God's will comes first. That will is not separated from real human life: daily bread, forgiveness of sins, and deliverance from evil.
If Korean Protestantism is to become humble again, it must first admit that it is not the whole but a part. It must remember that it is not God's deputy but God's witness. It must learn again that it is not the savior of the world, but a community called to testify to salvation. God embraces all things and works through all things. The church is not the place that possesses God. It must be the place that lowers itself before God.
Editorial note: This essay uses John Dominic Crossan's question about the Lord's Prayer as a point of departure, but it does not attempt to represent or fully adopt his historical Jesus research. From the perspective of Tertia Optio, it connects the theological priorities revealed in the Lord's Prayer with the self-examination needed in Korean Protestantism.