We may recite a prayer many times without really paying attention to what we are asking for in it. And we may find ourselves pausing at a single sentence, because suddenly something we had previously known only through words comes close to us.<\/p>\n
In this text, I approach the names of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit from the perspective of an inner rediscovery. I am not offering a definition of the Christian doctrine of the Trinity, but rather my own spiritual interpretation: how are wholeness, the experience of a person who feels separate from the whole, and the help that leads to realisation interconnected?<\/p>\n
To me, the Father represents the Source and wholeness. Not some distant place where we will one day be admitted on the basis of our merits, but the unity to which we belong by virtue of our very existence.<\/p>\n
When I speak of \u2018Fatherly quality\u2019, I am referring to a sense of certainty experienced through love and a sense of belonging. I do not equate this merely with a pleasant feeling, nor do I describe it in terms of a measurable level of physical vibration.<\/p>\n
In our everyday lives, we may feel very far removed from this. However, in my view, the experience of separation does not prove that unity has truly ceased to exist.<\/p>\n
I do not understand the Son as a part that has been separated from the Father, or permanently severed from him. For me, the Son is a sign of belonging to the Father, even when a person perceives themselves as separate.<\/p>\n
I consider this distinction to be important. It is not the Son himself who represents the separation, but rather the false self-image in which we no longer recognise the unity that belongs to him.<\/p>\n
Using the imagery of sleep and awakening, I would put it this way: we are experiencing exile, whilst our connection to the Source remains unbroken. Return, therefore, is not the acquisition of a new value, but the recognition of what we have forgotten.<\/p>\n
Thus, we do not need to distance ourselves from the Son in order to turn to the Father. We can let go of the image of separateness that we have held onto about ourselves.<\/p>\n
In this inner interpretation, I understand the Holy Spirit as the guide to rediscovery, as the Inner Teacher. As a means of guidance towards knowledge, not simply as a collection of new facts.<\/p>\n
I use the image of the \u201eteaching programme\u201d to express this kind of guidance. By this I do not mean a mechanical set of instructions, but rather a form of support that turns our attention towards love, rather than towards interpretations rooted in fear.<\/p>\n
For me, it is this guiding direction that becomes apparent in Jesus\u2019 teachings as well. This parallel does not equate the concepts of the Son and the Holy Spirit; rather, it shows the common direction that I recognise through their help.<\/p>\n
When I speak of penance in this context, I am not referring to serving a sentence. I am referring to recognising and correcting false separation: to ensuring that I no longer view myself and the other through the lens of that same fear.<\/p>\n
For me, prayer is a turning towards something that is also linked to meditation. In the language of my own spiritual experience, I call it a gateway: an opening towards another state of being, a more conscious connection with God.<\/p>\n
I would also like to link this to an energetic interpretation of the opening of the heart. I am not using this merely as a metaphor, nor am I presenting it as a scientifically proven physiological process.<\/p>\n
This does not mean that every prayer must evoke the same feeling. Silence, a question or even turning towards God without words can all have their place; we do not need to induce a heightened state of mind in order to be sincere.<\/p>\n
For me, trust in a relationship also means that I am not alone with what I carry within me. This trust is not a fixed timetable from which I can predict every external response in advance.<\/p>\n
In the Gospel of Matthew, the Lord\u2019s Prayer is introduced by a teaching which warns against the mere proliferation of words and directs our attention to the Father\u2019s knowledge (Matthew 6:7\u20138, St Stephen\u2019s Society Bible). For me, therefore, the value of repetition lies not in its quantity, but in whether I am truly present in it.<\/p>\n
I read and interpret the Lord\u2019s Prayer that I use in the following thirteen lines.1<\/a><\/sup> This is important to me because it calls into question the ominous connotations associated with the number thirteen.<\/p>\n If, according to my own faith, a prayer consisting of thirteen lines brings me closer to God, to spiritual salvation and to the realisation of our true nature, why should I regard that very number as unlucky in itself? For me, this prayer does not portend misfortune, but rather holds the promise of connection.<\/p>\n I see a distortion of the truth in the way we pass on a fear associated with a particular number as if it were an unquestionable characteristic of the number itself. I do not wish to accept the number thirteen as a sign of trouble from the outset, whilst for me, in this prayer, it is precisely the path to ascension that unfolds.<\/p>\n I do not wish to replace the old explanation with a new, mandatory one. My question is: have we actually examined what we fear, or have we simply carried forward a preconceived judgement?<\/p>\n I am not claiming that the text of a prayer is immutable: I believe that a new prayer may come to us from a higher power. But it is not a matter of indifference which words we use, in what order, and how we utter them. Their meaning, sound and rhythm together shape the whole of the prayer, whose unique vibration, in my spiritual view, aids connection through the heart. The issue is not change in itself, but what we change and how we change it.<\/p>\n Our Father, who art in heaven I am not setting out the following parts of the prayer as an exclusive explanation. I would like to show what inner response they evoke in me.<\/p>\n \u201eOur Father, who art in heaven\u201d<\/strong>: The plural form of the address also serves as a reminder of our shared belonging. In my own interpretation, I associate the image of heaven with wholeness, not with a geographical elevation. Turning back does not ask how much higher I rise above others, but rather to what extent I recognise the common Source.<\/p>\n \u201eHallowed be Thy name\u201d<\/strong>: I approach this request out of respect for the Source. It is not for me to make God valuable. Instead, I can take care not to use His name to justify my own fears.<\/p>\n \u201eThy kingdom come\u201d<\/strong>: For me, this aspect of prayer opens the way to a life lived in love. I am not merely waiting for some distant future. I can also ask myself where I can make room for this quality right now.<\/p>\n \u201eThy will be done\u201d<\/strong>: In this request, I hear the possibility of surrender. Not the relinquishment of my own decisions, nor the declaration that every hardship is divine will. Rather, the willingness not to let myself be guided solely by my familiar fears.<\/p>\n \u201eOn earth as it is in heaven\u201d<\/strong>: the sentence links the two directions. In my own personal interpretation, it calls me to live out that recognised love here on earth. It calls me to ensure that what I seek in prayer is not excluded from my relationships.<\/p>\n \u201eGive us this day our daily bread\u201d<\/strong>: I interpret the request for bread not only as a serious consideration of physical needs, but also as spiritual nourishment. I may also ask for strength, help and teachings that I can take on board. The inner journey does not render superfluous the things we need for our daily lives.<\/p>\n \u201eAnd forgive us our sins\u201d<\/strong>: I do not see this request as a definitive condemnation of myself. I can allow myself to see things differently when it comes to what I did out of fear or a narrow-minded way of thinking. Alongside seeking forgiveness, there is also a place for taking responsibility and making amends.<\/p>\n \u201eJust as we forgive those who sin against us\u201d<\/strong>: The sentence brings together the two aspects of forgiveness. For me, this is not a compulsory emotional act or a command to return to a harmful relationship. It is the possibility that the hurt we have suffered does not alone determine who we are and how we carry on with our lives.<\/p>\n \u201eAnd lead us not into temptation\u201d<\/strong>: this request may also reflect a reliance on leadership. In my own interpretation, I am asking for help in recognising when fear or possessiveness promises security. Not every question or doubt leads one astray; some actually help one to see things more clearly.<\/p>\n \u201eBut deliver us from evil\u201d<\/strong>: I am also approaching this request from the perspective of our own internal failings. I do not call someone who does not yet know something \u2018evil\u2019. Rather, I would like to free myself from that narrow-minded perspective which, instead of love, once again chooses aggression and separation.<\/p>\n \u201eFor Yours is the kingdom, the power and the glory\u201d<\/strong>: For me, this is the sentence that marks a turning point. I do not wish to make the control of the separate self permanent. I make room for the Source to be the basis of my orientation.<\/p>\n \u201eNow and for ever\u201d<\/strong>: In this turn of phrase, I do not hear an endless list of tasks. Rather, I hear that our connection to the Source is not created or severed by the passage of time. Learning is part of our human journey; it is not an endless condition for earning love.<\/p>\n \u201eAmen\u201d<\/strong>: For me, the closing words of the prayer can also become an inner \u2018yes\u2019. I am not saying \u2018yes\u2019 to the idea that I already understand everything. I am saying \u2018yes\u2019 to the fact that I wish to be present in that to which I have turned.<\/p>\n For me, the repeated practice of prayer is the journey itself. I do not merely recite the words; rather, time and again, I open myself up to the connection they embody.<\/p>\n That is why I do not see the number thirteen as an ominous one. I see in it the possibility of finding our way back through the heart: to God, to unity, and to who we truly are.<\/p>\n With love, 1. The text of the prayer published here follows the version used by the author and its division into thirteen lines; it is not a literal quotation from any specific Bible translation. The line numbers refer to this structure, not to the fixed line breaks in every edition or liturgical version. The St Stephen\u2019s Society translation of Matthew 6:13 concludes with a request for deliverance from evil, whilst the Hungarian Bible Society\u2019s new 2014 translation also includes the closing doxology (SZIT, Matt 6:13<\/a>, RUF, Matthew 6:13<\/a>). Variations in the prayer also appear in ancient textual traditions; the Didache, an early Christian collection of teachings, also contains a concluding doxology; therefore, the difference cannot simply be attributed to an arbitrary addition by a modern publisher (Bible Odyssey: The Lord\u2019s Prayer).<\/em><\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" We may recite a prayer many times without really paying attention to what we are asking for in it. And we may find ourselves pausing at a single sentence, because suddenly something we had previously known only through words comes close to us.<\/p>","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":433,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_s4y_en_tartalom":" Soul4you \u00b7 Georgina Kovacs<\/p>\n\n We can recite a prayer many times while barely noticing what we are asking. We can also pause over a single sentence and feel something draw close that, until then, we had known only as words.<\/p>\n\n In this reflection, I approach the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit through the experience of finding our way back within. I am offering my own spiritual reading, not a definition of the Christian doctrine of the Trinity: how do wholeness, our experience of separateness and the guidance towards recognition relate to one another?<\/p>\n\n For me, the Father names the Source and wholeness. Not a distant place to which we may one day be admitted on merit, but the unity to which we belong through our very being.<\/p>\n\n When I speak of a fatherly quality, I mean the assurance of love and belonging. I do not reduce this to a pleasant feeling, or describe it as a measurable physical frequency.<\/p>\n\n In everyday life, we may feel very far from that assurance. In my understanding, however, experiencing separation does not mean that our underlying unity has actually ceased to exist.<\/p>\n\n I do not understand the Son as a fragment broken off from the Father and permanently severed from him. In this inward reading, the Son expresses belonging to the Father, even when we experience ourselves as separate.<\/p>\n\n That distinction matters to me. It is not the Son who represents separation, but the mistaken image through which we fail to recognise that belonging.<\/p>\n\n Using the language of sleep and awakening, I would put it this way: we experience exile while our relationship with the Source remains unbroken. Returning is therefore not the acquisition of a new worth, but the recognition of what we have forgotten.<\/p>\n\n We do not need to turn away from the Son in order to turn towards the Father. We can release the image of separateness that we have held about ourselves.<\/p>\n\n Within this reading, I understand the Holy Spirit as the guide towards recognition, the Inner Teacher. This is guidance towards understanding, not merely the accumulation of new information.<\/p>\n\n I sometimes use the image of a teaching programme to describe that guidance. I do not mean a mechanical sequence of instructions, but a way of learning that turns attention towards love rather than towards interpretations rooted in fear.<\/p>\n\n I recognise this same direction of return in the teachings of Jesus. That connection does not make the Son and the Holy Spirit interchangeable; it describes the direction in which I understand their help to lead.<\/p>\n\n When I speak of Atonement in this context, I use the term in the sense found in A Course in Miracles: correcting the belief in separation, rather than undergoing punishment. (A Course in Miracles, T-6.II.10<\/a>) In my daily life, this asks whether I can meet myself and another person without returning automatically to the same fear.<\/p>\n\n For me, prayer is a turning towards God that also has a relationship with meditation. In the language of my own spiritual experience, I call it a gateway: an opening towards another state of being and a more conscious relationship with God.<\/p>\n\n I also understand the opening of the heart energetically. I do not mean this merely as a figure of speech, but neither do I present it as a scientifically established bodily process.<\/p>\n\n This does not mean that every prayer must produce a particular feeling. Silence, a question or a wordless turning towards God can each have a place; sincerity does not depend on bringing about an elevated state.<\/p>\n\n For me, trust also means that I am not alone with what I carry. It does not provide a timetable from which I can predict every outward answer.<\/p>\n\n In Matthew's Gospel, the teaching before the Lord's Prayer cautions against relying on the multiplication of words and directs attention to the Father's knowledge of what is needed. (Matthew 6:7\u20138<\/a>) For me, the value of repetition therefore lies not in how much I say, but in whether I am present to what I am saying.<\/p>\n\n I read and reflect on the version of the Lord's Prayer below in thirteen lines.1<\/a><\/sup> That arrangement matters to me because it questions the fearful meaning that can be attached to the number.<\/p>\n\n If a prayer expressed in thirteen lines brings me closer, in my own faith, to God, salvation and recognition of our true nature, why should I regard that same number as inherently unlucky? In this prayer, I find the possibility of connection, not a prediction of misfortune.<\/p>\n\n I see a distortion when a fear associated with a number is passed on as though it were an unquestionable property of the number itself. I do not want to begin by treating thirteen as a warning of trouble when, in this prayer, I recognise a path towards God.<\/p>\n\n I am not replacing one compulsory interpretation of a number with another. My question is whether we have examined what we fear, or simply carried an inherited judgement forward.<\/p>\n\n I do not believe that a prayer's wording can never change. I believe that a new prayer may reach us through higher guidance.<\/p>\n\n Yet the words we use, their order and the way we speak them are not indifferent. Their meaning, sound and rhythm shape the whole prayer, whose particular resonance, in my spiritual understanding, supports connection through the heart.<\/p>\n\n The question is not whether change is always wrong. It is what we change, and how.<\/p>\n\n Our Father, who art in heaven The reflections that follow are not offered as the prayer's only meaning. They describe the inward response its words awaken in me.<\/p>\n\n The word \u201cour\u201d reminds me of shared belonging. In my own reading, heaven points towards wholeness, not geographical height.<\/p>\n\n Turning towards the Father does not ask how far I can rise above someone else. It asks how fully I can recognise the Source we share.<\/p>\n\n I approach this request with reverence for the Source. It is not my task to make God worthy.<\/p>\n\n What I can attend to is how I use his name. Do I turn towards God, or use the idea of God to justify a fear I am unwilling to question?<\/p>\n\n For me, this request opens towards a life ordered by love. It is not only a waiting for a distant future.<\/p>\n\n I can also ask where I might make room for that quality now. What could change in the way I listen, speak or respond?<\/p>\n\n I hear here the possibility of trustful surrender. Not the abandonment of my own responsibility, and not the declaration that every harmful act is God's will.<\/p>\n\n It is a willingness to be guided by something other than my most familiar fears. I do not have to confuse the strength of a fear with the truth of its direction.<\/p>\n\n This line brings the two directions together. In my inward reading, it invites me to live the love I recognise here, in embodied life.<\/p>\n\n What I seek in prayer need not remain outside my relationships. It can have a place in an ordinary conversation or a decision that requires care.<\/p>\n\n I take the request for bread seriously as a request for bodily provision, while also hearing a need for spiritual nourishment. I may ask for strength, help and teaching that I am able to receive.<\/p>\n\n The inner journey does not make our everyday needs unnecessary. Receiving practical help does not make a prayer less spiritual.<\/p>\n\n I do not hear this as a final condemnation of who we are. I can become willing to see differently what I have done from fear or from a belief in separation.<\/p>\n\n Alongside seeking forgiveness, there is room for responsibility and repair. I can acknowledge an action without making it the whole truth of my being.<\/p>\n\n Here the two directions of forgiveness meet. For me, this is neither a compulsory emotional performance nor a command to return to a harmful relationship.<\/p>\n\n It is the possibility that an injury need not become the sole author of who I am and how I live. Forgiveness can be approached without giving up protection, discernment or a necessary boundary.<\/p>\n\n In this request, I hear a willingness to receive guidance. I ask for help in recognising when fear or possession offers itself as security.<\/p>\n\n Not every question or doubt leads us astray. Some allow us to see more clearly what we had previously accepted without examination.<\/p>\n\n I also approach this request through the errors of my own perception. I do not call someone evil because they do not yet understand something.<\/p>\n\n I ask to be released from the constricted view that chooses attack and separation in place of love. That inward work does not require me to deny harmful behaviour or leave it unchallenged.<\/p>\n\n For me, this is a sentence of turning back. I do not want the separate self's need for control to become my permanent point of reference.<\/p>\n\n I make room for the Source as the ground of my orientation. That does not remove my choices; it changes what I ask to guide them.<\/p>\n\n I do not hear an endless assignment in these words. I hear that time does not create or sever our relationship with the Source.<\/p>\n\n Learning belongs to our human journey. It is not an indefinitely postponed condition for becoming worthy of love.<\/p>\n\n For me, the final word can become an inward yes. I am not saying that I already understand everything.<\/p>\n\n I am saying that I wish to be present to the relationship towards which I have turned. I can begin there.<\/p>\n\n The repeated practice of prayer is, for me, a way of walking this path. I do not simply recite its words; I open myself, again, to the connection they express.<\/p>\n\n That is why I do not find an ominous number in these thirteen lines. I find the possibility of returning through the heart: to God, to unity and to who we truly are.<\/p>\n\n With love, 1<\/a> This English rendering follows the version used in my Hungarian reflection and preserves its thirteen-line arrangement; it is not presented as a verbatim quotation from one named English Bible or as a line division shared by every Christian tradition. In Hungarian, the Szent Istv\u00e1n T\u00e1rsulat version of Matthew 6:13 ends with the request for deliverance from evil, while the Magyar Bibliat\u00e1rsulat's 2014 translation also prints the closing doxology and notes its absence from some manuscripts. (SZIT, Matthew 6<\/a>; RUF, Matthew 6<\/a>) A closing doxology also occurs in Didache 8.2, an early Christian teaching text, so these variations cannot simply be attributed to an arbitrary modern publisher's addition. (C. Clifton Black, \u201cThe Lord's Prayer\u201d, Bible Odyssey<\/a>)<\/p>","_s4y_en_cim":"Prayer and the Holy Trinity from a Different Perspective","_s4y_en_kivonat":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-125","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-spiritualis"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/soul4you.net\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/125","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/soul4you.net\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/soul4you.net\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/soul4you.net\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/soul4you.net\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=125"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/soul4you.net\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/125\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":434,"href":"https:\/\/soul4you.net\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/125\/revisions\/434"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/soul4you.net\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/433"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/soul4you.net\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=125"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/soul4you.net\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=125"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/soul4you.net\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=125"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}It does matter what words we use and how we pray<\/h2>\n
The Lord\u2019s Prayer: thirteen lines, a journey within<\/h2>\n
Hallowed be Thy name
Thy Kingdom Come
Thy will be done
On Earth as it is in Heaven
Give us this day our daily bread
And forgive us our sins
Just as we forgive those who sin against us
And lead us not into temptation
But deliver me from evil
For Yours is the kingdom, the power and the glory
Now and for ever
Amen.<\/p>\n
Georgina
Soul4you<\/p>\nThe Father: wholeness<\/h2>\n\n
The Son: the relationship we may forget<\/h2>\n\n
The Holy Spirit: guidance towards recognition<\/h2>\n\n
Prayer: connection, not performance<\/h2>\n\n
Thirteen: what are we calling ominous?<\/h2>\n\n
The words and the way we pray matter<\/h2>\n\n
The Lord's Prayer: thirteen lines, an inward journey<\/h2>\n\n
Hallowed be thy name
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done
On earth as it is in heaven
Give us this day our daily bread
And forgive us our sins
As we forgive those who sin against us
And lead us not into temptation
But deliver us from evil
For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory
Now and for ever
Amen.<\/p>\n\nOur Father, who art in heaven<\/h2>\n\n
Hallowed be thy name<\/h2>\n\n
Thy kingdom come<\/h2>\n\n
Thy will be done<\/h2>\n\n
On earth as it is in heaven<\/h2>\n\n
Give us this day our daily bread<\/h2>\n\n
And forgive us our sins<\/h2>\n\n
As we forgive those who sin against us<\/h2>\n\n
And lead us not into temptation<\/h2>\n\n
But deliver us from evil<\/h2>\n\n
For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory<\/h2>\n\n
Now and for ever<\/h2>\n\n
Amen<\/h2>\n\n
Returning through the heart<\/h2>\n\n
Georgina
Soul4you<\/p>\n\nNote on the prayer text<\/h3>\n\n