Save Us From the Time of Trial - DArren Rowse
How do you respond when life squeezes you? When the pressure builds and the ground shifts beneath your feet, what rises to the surface? Is it trust or suspicion? Hope or resignation? Faith deepened, or faith in tatters?
Two thousand years ago, a crowd gathered in Jerusalem during Passover week. They'd heard the stories about Jesus—his healings, his teaching, his authority. They'd been waiting for centuries for God to act, to send the promised Messiah who would save them. And when they saw him coming into the city, they grabbed palm branches and threw their cloaks on the road. They shouted with everything they had: Hosanna. We often sing that word as worship, like an ancient hallelujah. But its Hebrew root means something more desperate: save us now. They weren't just praising Jesus. They were pleading with him.
This Palm Sunday, Darren Rowse brought us to the final petition of the Lord's Prayer: "Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from the evil one." It's a prayer for people who know they need saving—whether from crushing circumstances or from what those circumstances might do to their souls. And it's a prayer Jesus gave us not just for crisis moments, but for the ordinary drift of everyday life.
You can watch above or listen to the full sermon below.
When Trials Hang in the Balance
Darren began by reminding us of the context of that first Palm Sunday. Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, surrounded by fishermen and ordinary people. But from the opposite direction—perhaps that same day, perhaps just before—came a very different procession: Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, riding a war horse at the head of cavalry and soldiers, drums beating, golden eagles mounted on poles. Rome's annual reminder to the Jewish people of exactly who was in charge.
The crowd knew about both processions. They'd seen Pilate's show of force before. They lived under Roman occupation—political instability, oppression, chaos. And so when they saw Jesus coming, they threw everything they had at him. Save us. They expected him to save them. But Jesus came on a donkey, not a warhorse. And by the end of that week, their hosanna prayers would be answered—but not in the way they were expecting.
The petition we've been praying—"save us from the time of trial"—goes deeper than our first instinct, Darren suggested. It's easy to cry this prayer out about our circumstances. But Jesus wants us to go deeper, to pray not just about what's happening around us, but about what's happening inside us when the pressure comes on.
Trials or Temptations? It Depends on Our Response
The Greek word behind this petition is peirasmos. And Darren explained that this word can be translated in two different ways. It can mean a test—something that proves and improves a person's character. Or it can mean a temptation—something that entices a person into sin and destruction. Whether it becomes a test or a temptation depends on who is behind it and how we respond.
Daryl Johnson, whose work has shaped this sermon series, put it this way:
"A peirasmos is a difficult or challenging situation in life, which can either be a test proving and improving a person's character or a temptation enticing a person into a way of sin. Whether it's a test or a temptation depends on who is behind it and how we respond."
This is why two people can face the exact same circumstances and come out so differently. One emerges with their faith deepened. The other's character is torn down, their faith in tatters. Jesus doesn't just teach us to pray about our circumstances, but about what's happening inside of us during the trial.
The Apostle James wrote: "Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance." But Paul used the same Greek word in a completely different way when he warned: "Those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction."
Same word. Two directions. Have you ever felt yourself in one of those moments where things could go either way? Where your faith is hanging in the balance? Darren said: If that's you, this prayer is a gift. Lean into it.
The Evil One's Strategy: Turning Tests into Temptations
The second part of the petition—"deliver us from the evil one"—reveals that there's an active enemy at work. The evil one's strategy, in every trial meant to build us, is to twist it into something that destroys. As Johnson writes:
"The evil one seeks to turn tests into temptation. What the Father of Jesus means as a test to build us, the evil one seeks to turn into a temptation."
The evil one's goal is always the same: to destroy our trust in God's goodness.
Darren reminded us that this is the sixth petition in the Lord's Prayer. The first three focus on God—who he is, his name, his kingdom, his will. God is front and center. The evil one is addressed, but he's secondary. That says a lot. But we are told to pray about the work of the evil one, because he seeks to weaponize our trials against our faith.
In moments of grief, the evil one whispers, a good God wouldn't let that happen.
In moments of betrayal, he whispers, you trusted God and look where it got you.
In moments of suffering that doesn't seem to have an end, he whispers, God's absent. God's distant. God doesn't care.
The whispers sow seeds of suspicion, focus on the negative, and tempt us to draw false conclusions about who God is and how he sees us. We see this pattern from the very beginning—in the Garden of Eden, when the serpent twisted God's words just enough to make God sound like he was holding something back. And we see it in the desert, when Satan tried to raise doubt in Jesus' heart about the Father's love, right when Jesus was at his most vulnerable.
We're told to pray: Father, as we face hard times, don't let them become a temptation. Deliver us from the evil one. We're not just asking God to take hard things away—we're asking that in the hard times, God will protect us from the one who wants to weaponize the trial against our faith.
When We're Fine: The Trial of the Everyday
But what about those of us who aren't in crisis right now? Most of us, most of the time, are just… fine. We're not in the depths of grief or betrayal. We're just getting up, going to work, feeding our kids, paying our bills, managing our schedules. So how do we pray this prayer when we're not on our knees in desperation?
Darren pointed out something striking: Jesus didn't say, "when you're in crisis, pray this prayer." He said, "when you pray, pray this prayer." This is a prayer for every time we pray—not just in crisis, but in the ordinary everyday of life.
And then he said something that landed hard:
"Most of what we do—most of what I do—is actually oriented in a slightly different direction. It's actually about saving ourselves. This is what our culture teaches us to do. Plan for your future. Save. Earn enough. Build enough. Have enough. Be enough. And if you've got a problem, fix it. Come up with a strategy. Optimize what works. Strive for what you want. Take what's on offer. Build your life. Effectively, the world tells us all the time: you are your own saviour."
Jesus told a parable about this—the story of the rich fool. A farmer works hard, has a bumper crop, and sits down to plan what to do with it. He decides: I'll tear down my barns and build bigger ones. I'll store everything. Then I can relax, eat well, take life easy. I've earned it. The man's plan isn't wicked. He's not hurting anyone. It's what most of us would do. It's what most of us do do.
But God says to him: You fool. Tonight your life will be demanded from you. And all of this that you have built—who will it belong to then?
God doesn't call him wicked. He calls him a fool—someone who isn't evil, but who acts as if God doesn't exist. As if the harvest, the future, his life, is entirely in his own hands. He is saving himself. And God was never part of the calculation.
"Just an ordinary life quietly arranged around the assumption that he was his own saviour. He didn't decide to leave God out. He just never thought to include him at all."
This is what the evil one wants for most of us. Not dramatic rebellion—just a drift into believing that we are our own savior. No crisis. No big decision. Just the slow structural trial of a world that tells us every day: you've got this. You're on your own.
And so this prayer, even when we're fine, is a declaration: I am not my own saviour. You are.
Jesus Knows What It's Like
Darren reminded us that Jesus was "tempted in every way" (Hebrews 4:15). The word there is peirasmos. Jesus experienced all the trials and temptations that we do. He lived in a culture that told him the same things ours tells us: accumulate treasures, build your reputation, secure your future against anxiety. And we know he felt the pull, because he preached against it. "Don't store up for yourself treasures on earth… Don't worry about tomorrow." Any preacher knows: you don't preach about things you haven't experienced yourself.
Jesus also knew the big trials. He knew grief. He knew rejection. He knew betrayal. He knew pain. And on the night before he went to the cross, in the Garden of Gethsemane, we see it most clearly:
"Father, if it's possible, let this cup pass from me."
This wasn't a composed, theologically sophisticated prayer. It was the raw prayer of a person at the end of himself. It's the same prayer any of us pray when we come to the end: Father, make this suffering stop. Please. Not this.
He prayed it sweating blood, in the dark, alone, his disciples asleep around him. And the Father's answer was silence. The cup didn't pass. There was no rescue. He went to the cross, where he cried out again: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
The full weight of abandonment. Carried to the end.
So if you've ever prayed please not this—if you've ever cried out Father, where are you?—Jesus has been in that moment. And the reason his prayer was met with silence is because the silence, the cross, and the death is how he saves us. The cup didn't pass from him so that it could pass from us.
Barbara Brown Taylor writes:
"Resurrection is always announced in our world with Easter lilies and the sound of trumpets and bright streaming light. But it didn't actually happen that way. It happened in a cave, in complete silence, in absolute darkness, with the smell of dark damp stone and dug earth in the air."
The crowd on Palm Sunday wanted a God who would swoop in with power and fix things. But the biblical God did something very different. He entered the darkness. He suffered all the way through it. And that is how he wants to save us.
One Way to Live It Out This Week
This week, pray the petition—"Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from the evil one"—at least once a day. Pray it slowly. Pray it personally. If you're facing a trial, bring it to God and ask not just for the circumstance to change, but for protection from what the trial could do to your soul. If you're in the everyday drift, let the prayer remind you: I am not my own saviour. You are.
A Short Prayer
Father,
Save us.
Save us from the trials that press in around us,
and save us from what those trials might do inside us.
Deliver us from the evil one who seeks to turn testing into temptation,
who whispers lies about your goodness.
We thank you that we're not praying to a distant God,
but to one who has been in the darkness,
who knows our desperation,
who meets us where we are.
Bring life. Bring transformation. Bring healing in us.
Amen.
Personal Reflection
Think of a trial you've faced in the past. Looking back, do you see ways it became a test that built your faith, or a temptation that tore at it? What made the difference?
In what ways are you currently trying to "save yourself" rather than trusting God as your Saviour? What would it look like to relinquish control in that area?
When have you heard the whispers of the evil one during a hard time—doubting God's goodness, feeling abandoned, or drawing false conclusions? How might you recognise and resist those whispers in the future?
Small Group Discussion
Read Matthew 6:13 together. Why do you think Jesus included this petition in the prayer he taught his disciples? What does it reveal about the nature of life as a follower of Jesus?
Darren explained that the Greek word peirasmos can mean either "test" or "temptation," depending on who's behind it and how we respond. Can you think of a biblical example of someone who faced a peirasmos—and how it became either a test or a temptation for them?
Reflect on the story of the rich fool in Luke 12:16-21. In what ways does our culture encourage us to be "our own saviour"? How do you see this playing out in your own life?
Darren said, "The evil one's goal is always the same: to destroy our trust in God's goodness." What are some common lies or whispers the evil one uses to achieve this goal? How can we counter those lies with truth?
Read Hebrews 4:14-16. How does knowing that Jesus was "tempted in every way" give you confidence to bring your trials and temptations to God in prayer?
On Palm Sunday, the crowd shouted "Hosanna"—save us now. But Jesus came on a donkey, not a war horse, and his saving work looked very different to what they expected. How does the cross redefine what it means to be "saved"?
What's one area of your life right now where you need to pray, "Save me from the time of trial and deliver me from the evil one"? Is it a crisis situation, or is it the everyday drift toward self-sufficiency?
How can we pray for one another in light of what we've discussed today? Take time to share specific trials or temptations, and then pray together—asking God to bring transformation, protection, and deliverance.