Jesus Taught a Different Lord’s Prayer in Luke

The Lord’s Prayer is one of the most cherished and memorized texts in the Christian faith. Traditionally recited in the form found in Matthew 6:9–13, it has shaped centuries of worship and personal devotion. But what many may not realize is that there is another Lord’s Prayer, equally divine in origin yet distinct in expression recorded by Luke in his Gospel (Luke 11:1–4). While the core sentiments remain, the subtle differences between these two versions open up a wellspring of fresh insight into how Jesus taught His disciples to commune with God.

At the heart of both Matthew’s and Luke’s versions lies a profound and somewhat surprising address to God: “Father.” For first-century Jews, this was not common practice. The Old Testament references God as Father in only a handful of passages (e.g., Deuteronomy 1:31; Isaiah 64:8; Malachi 2:10), preferring titles like “Yahweh” or “Lord” that emphasized sovereignty, holiness, and covenantal power. Yet Jesus consistently calls God “Father,” and in doing so, He introduces an intimate, familial relationship that redefines how humanity interacts with the divine.

The scholar Richard Bauckham suggests that “Abba,” the Aramaic for Father, represents a new name of God corresponding with a new covenant much like how “I AM” was revealed to Moses during the Exodus. Through Jesus, this “second exodus” begins, and the Lord’s Prayer becomes a template not only for personal piety but also for calling down God’s new redemptive work into our daily lives.

Luke’s context for the prayer is especially poignant. Unlike Matthew, who places it within the Sermon on the Mount, Luke records it during Jesus’s long journey to Jerusalem a path filled with parables, teaching, and increasing opposition. It is during this emotionally charged journey that the disciples, moved by something unique in Jesus’s prayer life, ask, “Lord, teach us to pray.”

Luke portrays Jesus as a man of prayer more than any other Gospel writer. From His baptism (Luke 3:21) to the agony of Gethsemane (22:44), and finally on the cross (23:46), Jesus is consistently shown communing with the Father. His prayer life was both fervent and foundational and His disciples noticed. Perhaps it was not only what He prayed, but how and when He prayed that stirred such desire in their hearts.

One of the most fascinating distinctions in Luke’s Lord’s Prayer is the phrase: “Give us each day our daily bread” (Luke 11:3). Unlike Matthew’s “Give us today,” Luke emphasizes a continual, daily dependence. The Greek phrase to kath’ hēmeran stresses that God's provision is not a one-time act but a continual grace.

This language intentionally recalls Israel's wilderness journey, where manna was provided each morning just enough for the day (Exodus 16:4). And it also echoes Jesus’s own battle with temptation in the wilderness, where He refused to turn stones into bread, choosing instead to rely on the Word of God (Luke 4:4, quoting Deuteronomy 8:3). In this way, Luke connects the daily provision of bread with spiritual trust a sign that God’s kingdom is breaking into the lives of His people even now.

Recent studies show that 63% of practicing Christians in the U.S. pray at least once daily, but few incorporate a conscious recognition of daily spiritual dependence in those prayers. Luke’s wording challenges us to do just that to embrace each day as a divine gift that requires daily surrender and trust.

Forgiveness is another area where Luke diverges from Matthew. Where Matthew says, “Forgive us our debts,” Luke writes, “Forgive us our sins” (Luke 11:4). This is no minor edit. Luke’s phrasing brings the cross into focus. The word “sins” (hamartias) directly ties the prayer to the atoning work of Christ an event still to come in the Gospel narrative but central to Luke’s theological vision.

Throughout his Gospel, Luke makes clear that Jesus is the fulfillment of Isaiah’s Suffering Servant (Luke 22:37; cf. Isaiah 53). The forgiveness Jesus offers isn’t theoretical or merely moral it is anchored in sacrifice, borne on the back of the one who takes away the sin of the world. And those who receive this forgiveness are then called to extend it without hesitation to others.

It’s worth noting that about 27% of American Christians admit struggling to forgive people who have wronged them. Yet Luke’s version of the prayer reminds us that being forgiven and forgiving are intertwined. We cannot expect to walk in freedom while clinging to bitterness. The prayer teaches us to imitate the Servant by becoming “little servants” ourselves, bearers of grace in a world starved for mercy.

So, how can we bring the wisdom of this "other" Lord’s Prayer into our daily rhythms?

First, we must acknowledge our daily need for God’s provision. Whether it’s literal bread or spiritual sustenance, every moment of sufficiency is a divine act of love. Praying for daily bread is not a sign of weakness it’s an act of worship.

Second, we ask daily for forgiveness not because Christ’s sacrifice was incomplete, but because our hearts are still prone to wander. And in the same breath, we release others, refusing to harbor grudges that only poison our souls.

Third, we see in this prayer a roadmap for kingdom living. It invites us into the presence of a Father who is both holy and near, sovereign and intimate. It reminds us that prayer is not about formulas or eloquence but about communion, trust, and transformation.

As we return to this sacred prayer perhaps reciting it with fresh eyes may we remember that Jesus gave us not just a way to pray, but a way to live. One day at a time. One gift at a time. One act of grace at a time.

Share this article or subscribe to our newsletter to receive more reflections like this in your inbox.