Month: May 2019

A Prayer about No More Harm  

The wolf will live with the lamb,
the leopard will lie down with the goat,
and the calf and the lion and the yearling together;
and a little child will lead them.
The cow will feed with the bear,
their young will lie down together,
and the lion will eat straw like the ox.
The infant will play near the cobra’s den,
the young child will put its hand into the viper’s nest.
They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain;
for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Lord
as the waters cover the sea.
(Isa. 11:6–9 NIV)

Jesus, there are many things I love about the Advent season— the songs regaling your birth, the aroma of yuletide foods and spices, the dancing array of Christmas lights aglow in my neighborhood each evening. But I especially love fueling my faith and imagination with the promises God made surrounding your arrival. Every promise he has made finds its yes in you. 

Today in particular, I’m stirred to think about the day of no more harm of any variety. “They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain” (Isa. 11:9 NIV). 

Oh, for the day when all “tooth and claw” violence gives way to wolves frolicking with lambs; leopards and goats napping together; calves, lions, and young horses strolling through the new heaven and new earth as friends; cows and bears eating together rather than one another; snakes as pets rather than pests. 

As much as I love the vision of shalom in the animal kingdom, ten thousand times over I long for the day when we, the two legged image bearers of the living God, no longer harm one another in any way. No more marginalizing or minimizing one another; no more demeaning or dismissing one another; no more vilifying or idolizing one another; no more hating or hurting one another; no more using or abusing one another in any way. 

Hasten the day when we will finally and fully love one another as you love us, Jesus. Until that day, keep us groaning and growing in grace. Grant us quick repentances when we love poorly. May the world recognize us as your disciples by the way we love one another. We pray in your powerful and patient name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about God’s Irrepressible Goodness  

“Ask a sign of the Lord your God; let it be deep as Sheol or high as heaven.” But Ahaz said, “I will not ask, and I will not put the Lord to the test.” And [Isaiah] said, “Hear then, O house of David! Is it too little for you to weary men, that you weary my God also? Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.” (Isa. 7:11–14)  

Gracious Father, the more often and the more carefully I read your Word the more I realize how little of your goodness I actually “get.” I love the name “Immanuel”— God with us— yet today I realize you gave this hope in full view of unfaithfulness, unbelief, and unrighteousness. What a God you are! What a story you’re telling! 

It was a time of local and international crisis, and King Ahaz had every opportunity to repent and rely on you. You sent Isaiah with words of wisdom and hope. But he refused. Feigning piety, King Ahaz remained addicted to his illusion of control and self-sufficiency. 

Father, as I read this story, I realize how much I’m like King Ahaz. Often I go through the motions of acknowledging you, but on the inside I’m far more resolved to trust in me than in you. I can’t throw any stones today at this wicked king. Rather, I grieve my own illusion of control and self-sufficiency. 

That’s why the promise of Immanuel is so precious to me. Father, you’ve proven yourself to be a God who is not only with me in Jesus, but a God who is so very much for me in Jesus. Your love for us in the gospel is not only unconditional, it’s contra conditional. For you’ve met every condition necessary to fulfill your commitment to redeem your pan-national people and restore your broken creation. What a gospel you’ve given us in Jesus!

King Jesus, though I don’t have the Assyrian army outside my door threatening my existence, I do have no small number of challenges in front of me this Advent season. By faith through grace, I purpose to rely on you for gospel sanity and strength, just as I rely on you for my forgiveness and my righteousness. You are with me and you are for me, and that is enough. I pray in the glory of your name. 

Amen. 

A Prayer about Seeming Impossibilities  

“How will this be,” Mary asked the angel, “since I am a virgin?” The angel answered, “The Holy Spirit will come on you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Even Elizabeth your relative is going to have a child in her old age, and she who was said to be unable to conceive is in her sixth month. For no word from God will ever fail.” “I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May your word to me be fulfilled.” Then the angel left her. (Luke 1:34–38 NIV)  

Heavenly Father, you gave Mary a calling no one else will ever share— to be the mother of God the Son. And yet I do have a lot in common with her. When I consider the enormity of the promises you’ve made accompanying the birth of Jesus, I too say and pray with incredulity, “How will this be?” And I hear you answer back in the gospel, “Nothing is impossible with God.” 

There’s nothing you’ve promised, with respect to Jesus, that won’t come to pass. This includes the transformation of this broken world into the new heaven and new earth. It includes the redeeming of a bride for Jesus from every single nation, tribe, people, and language. But it also includes your plans for my life. Just as surely as you placed the life of Jesus in Mary, you have done the same for me. Though in an entirely different way than Mary, I too am pregnant with glory. (Rom. 8:18–27) 

One day I will fully love with the kindness and compassion of Jesus. I will think and see only with the wisdom and eyes of heaven. I will completely embrace the will of God as my favorite bread and utter delight. One day I will never be selfish, petty, or defensive again. I will never get my feelings hurt, insist on being right, or demand more. I will think of others more highly and more often than myself. I won’t keep a record of anybody’s wrongs, no longer remembering and rehearsing the ways others have failed me and the ways I’ve failed them. I will be free, so very free and whole. 

To all of these promises I find myself saying, “How will this be, since I’m still so very much not like Jesus?” And you answer back so graciously, “Things impossible with man are possible with God.” And I say and pray, “May it be as you have promised in the gospel, holy and faithful Father. I am yours and your servant.” I pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about the Heart and Habits of the Gospel  

And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go be- fore the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people in the forgiveness of their sins, because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace. (Luke 1:76– 79)  

Dear Father, I often forget about the other special baby promised and delivered in the Advent story: John the Baptist, the forerunner, the way maker, the friend of the bridegroom. His birth and life are such a testimony to the way, the gospel. 

Oh, to become a man like John, whose joy was to decrease as Jesus increased. Oh, to be a parent like Zechariah, wanting only what you want for our children and grandchildren. 

What more could a father, like Zechariah, desire for his son than for him to be a powerful and passionate witness to Jesus, the Messiah— the one in whom we experience  your tender mercy and full forgiveness? There needed to be only one John the Baptist, and yet there is an ongoing need for many others to live and love as John did. 

What better story could we write or what other story would we choose than for our kids to be a means by which the rising sun of grace would bring the light of the gospel to the dark places and the broken people of the world? 

Father, we lift our children and grandchildren to you. For those who don’t know you, in light of your covenant promises, we ask you to bring them to a saving knowledge of Jesus. Rescue them from religion and non religion. For those who do know you, we pray that the gospel would go deeper and deeper into their hearts, assuring them of your tender mercies and sufficient grace, transforming them into the likeness of Jesus, and freeing them for a life of living, loving, and serving in your church and kingdom. 

Our prayer for our children and grandchildren is the same one we offer for our- selves: Lord Jesus, guide us into the heart and habits of the gospel; guide our feet more surely onto the path of peace; lead us deeper into the ways of shalom, into your commitment to redeem your people and make all things new. We pray in your name and for your glory.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Treasuring and Pondering  

So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. (Luke 2:16–19 NIV)  

Gracious Jesus, I’m very drawn to Mary’s response early in her journey of nursing you and knowing you. Even as I write these words, I realize what a holy mystery the incarnation was. You, the very God who created all things, who sustains all things, and who is making all things new—you drew nourishment from a young maiden’s breast. 

And Mary “treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” “Hurrying off” like a shepherd to tell others about you has always been easier for me than sitting still and letting you tell me about yourself. 

It’s always been easier for me to talk than to listen, to stay busy than to relax, to be “productive” than to be meditative. I confess this as sin, Jesus. This isn’t okay. It can be explained but not justified. For knowing about you is not the same thing as knowing you. An informed mind is not the same thing as an en flamed heart. 

To know you is eternal life, and I do want to know you, Jesus, so much better than I already do. I want to treasure you in my heart and ponder who you are. I want to contemplate everything you’ve already accomplished through your life, death, and resurrection; everything you’re presently doing as the King of Kings and Lord of Lords; and everything you will be in the new heaven and new earth as the bridegroom of your beloved bride. There’s so much to treasure and so much to ponder.

It’s not as though I’m a stranger to treasuring and pondering, for I treasure and ponder a lot of things, Jesus — things, however, that lead to a bankrupt spirit and an impoverished heart. May the gospel slow me, settle me, and center me, that I might say with the psalmist, “Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Ps. 73:25–26)

I pray in your peerless name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about a Standing Shepherd 

“But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah,
though you are small among the clans of Judah,
out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel,
whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.”
He will stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord,
in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God.
And they will live securely,
for then his greatness will reach to the ends of the earth.
And he will be our peace. (Mic. 5:2, 4–5 NIV)

Most loving Jesus, there are so many reasons to love and worship you. First and foremost, you are God, who, along with the Father and the Holy Spirit, is singularly worthy to be worshiped with everything we have and are. The fact that I’m even tempted to worship other gods is irrefutable confirmation that I’m a broken, sinful man, desperate for the salvation that you alone can give. 

Today I’m especially moved to worship you, Jesus, for being the Shepherd Savior that you are. Having laid down your life as the Lamb of God, you’ve risen and are now the standing shepherd— relentlessly caring, vigilantly protecting, and faithfully providing for us. You never sleep or slumber. You are constantly caring for us. Be praised and worshiped, O good and engaged Shepherd.

Jesus, because of your great love for me in the gospel, I lack nothing that I need. I don’t get all my wants, but I do have everything I need for life and godliness . . . and a whole lot more. I praise you that it’s green pastures and quiet waters to which you lead me— all for the restoring of my tired, weary, broken, rebellious soul. 

For your glory and my good, you guide me along paths of righteousness, goodness, truth, and grace. And even as that journey involves traversing places marked by decay and death, you are with me, and that’s all I really need to know. I don’t have to be afraid of anything or anyone, for you are with me. 

You nourish me all the time, even when enemies are close by and threatening. Your generous anointing overflows for the blessing of others. To follow you is to be followed by the fragrance of your goodness and love. Even in the new heaven and new earth, you will be our shepherd, leading us to springs of living water. (Rev. 7:17)

Your greatness, Jesus, will reach to the ends of the earth, and we will always live securely, for you are our peace, now and forever. 

In your great and gracious name we pray.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Immanuel’s Presence and Presents  

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified. What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? (Rom. 8:28–32)  

Jesus, I’m thankful to know that every word of the Word, in one way or another, is ultimately about you. Every command drives me to you. Every promise is fulfilled in you. Every story whispers your name, points to your glory, and proffers your grace. This is why I love the Bible more than ever. 

Yet there seem to be some Scriptures that are kind of like “homeroom” to me, like a favorite chair, jogging path, or scenic view. To go there puts everything into perspective. This portion of the Word is just such a place. All the Immanuelises, all the carols and hymns of Advent converge right here. The hopes and fears of all my years are met right here.

Jesus, I praise you for being Immanuel— God with me and God for me. Your presence and your presents are all that I need, much more than I realize, and way beyond all I could have ever hoped for or imagined. 

You’re at work in all things for your glory and for my good— in the obvious and in the not-so-obvious, in my gains and in my pains, in what I “get” and in the things that seem to contradict what I know, when I’m “feeling the love” and when I’m feeling very lonely, when the gospel makes all the sense in the world to me and when I’m tempted to say with John the Baptist, “Are you the Messiah, or should we be looking for another?” 

But there is no other Messiah, Savior, or Lord but you, Jesus. And absolutely nothing can separate me from your love, for I’ve been called according to the Fa- ther’s purpose, which will never fail or falter. He “foreknew” me; he set his affec- tion upon me before the world began, and he will continue to provide everything necessary to complete the work of the gospel in my life, in the whole family of God, and in the entire creation. “Thrice hallelujah!” I shout. 

I pray by the light of this good news of great joy.

Amen. 

A Prayer about One Blessing after Another  

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. (John testified concerning him. He cried out, saying, “This was the one I spoke about when I said, ‘He who comes after me has surpassed me be- cause he was before me.’”) Out of his fullness we have all received grace in place of grace already given.
(John 1:14–16 NIV)

Dear Jesus, I can understand why, of all the accounts of your birth, John’s is least often chosen as the script for Sunday school Christmas pageants and programs. After all, what parts would the children play? What cute costumes could they wear? There’s no manger, no Joseph and Mary, no shepherds and angels or wise men and lowing cattle. But there certainly is you. You’re the only star on the horizon in this nativity scene, and how you shine.

I praise you, Lord Jesus, for becoming flesh and “tabernacling” among us for just the right amount of time. Though equal to yet distinct from the Father, you didn’t consider your glory something to be tightly grasped or held on to selfishly. Rather, you emptied yourself by becoming a man—but not just any ordinary man but a servant-man, the servant of the Lord, the second Adam, our Savior . . . my Savior. 

In your thirty three years of incarnate life, you accomplished everything necessary for the redemption of the people for whom you lived and died but also for the restoration of the world you created and love. Be magnified, adored, regaled, worshiped, and loved, Lord Jesus. What a wonderful, merciful Savior you are! What a God who is so mighty to save!

I cannot sing Isaac Watts’s great Advent hymn “Joy to the World” without thinking of John’s Advent narrative. For you are presently ruling the world with your grace and truth— the grace and truth with which you are full. You’re making the nations prove the wonders of your love as the gospel runs from heart to heart and nation to nation. 

From the fullness of your grace I keep receiving one blessing after another and one blessing on top of another: the blessings of your imputed righteousness, the blessings of perpetual favor with God, the blessings of your intercession and advocacy, the blessings of your Spirit’s work in my life, the blessings of citizenship in heaven, the blessing of knowing the good work you have begun in me, and in the cosmos, will be brought to completion! Hail the incarnate deity! Joy to the world, and to me, indeed! I pray in your most glorious name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Singing Mary’s Song  

And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name. And his mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.”
(Luke 1:46–50)

Jesus, I woke up today so thankful for the gift of music, especially the songs of Advent. I’m more likely to lose my inhibitions singing Christmas songs than any other genre. And it’s not rocket science to figure out why this is so. Every Advent hymn, carol, and chorus I treasure— from your Word, in my hymnal, or on my iPod— propels me into hope and gratitude and more hope and more gratitude. And when my heart is fueled by these twin graces, I’m much freer and so much more full of faith. I praise you for igniting my heart to sing your praise.

I praise you for giving me a reason to sing, Lord Jesus. I praise you for songwriters who capture what I feel and give me the vehicle for expressing what I long to say to you. 

Mary’s story is different from mine, and yet I join her Advent refrain today. I can sing her song. I must sing her song, for you’ve been so mindful of my humble, broken, sinful state. I have nothing to boast in but you, Lord Jesus. You came to me when I wasn’t seeking you. You are being formed in me as surely as you entered the world through Mary’s womb. 

I’m a blessed man because you’ve done great things for me, and you continue to do great things for me. Holy is your name, Lord Jesus! I have no concern for what any generation may say about me. It’s enough to know what you say about me: that I’m yours, that I’m forgiven, that I’m righteous in you, and that nothing can separate me from your love. 

Your mercy has been extended to my generation and to me personally. Therefore, my soul glorifies you, Jesus, and my spirit rejoices in you, my God and my Savior. As the gospel goes deeper into my heart, free me from all fears except the fear of the Lord. I want to be filled and freed with an affectionate reverence for you alone, Lord Jesus. I sing and pray, in your most glorious and gracious name. 

Amen. 

A Prayer about a King, Not a Co-Pilot  

Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end,
on the throne of David and over his kingdom,
to establish and uphold it with justice and
righteousness from this time forth and forevermore.
The zeal of the Lord of hosts will do this.
(Isa. 9:7)

Merciful Jesus, I thought I’d seen it all. I didn’t really think there were many more surprises waiting for me . . . until yesterday. The SUV in front of me looked like a Christmas tree with blinking lights, ornaments, an angel on top and all. But right there on the bumper there it was—centered and unblemished, a 15-by-4-inch banner proclaiming, “Jesus Is My Co-Pilot.” 

After repenting of my cynicism, I was happy to affirm in busy traffic, as I do this early morning, that you’re not a co-pilot. You’re a king, the King of all kings, “the ruler of kings on earth” (Rev. 1:5) and everything else. The last thing I need in life, or in death, is a co-pilot. Co-crucifixion and co-resurrection with you, yes! Co-pilot, no.

Advent’s the season in which we get to acknowledge there’s only one government and one peace sufficient to meet the needs of our sinful hearts and this bro- ken world. King David’s throne has now become a throne of grace from which you rule the world, advancing your kingdom of peace, justice, and righteousness in the hearts of your people, among the nations of the world, and in every sphere of your creation. 

Jesus, with zeal and grace you’re working all things together after the counsel of your will. You— the Lamb of God, the Lord of Lords, and the Lamp of the New Jerusalem— are working in all things for your glory and for our good. No one and nothing can derail, deter, or distract you from bringing to completion your good work of redemption and restoration. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! 

As the gospel of your kingdom continues its transforming work in my life, Jesus, may it advance through my life. As you love me passionately, I would love you missionally, living in your redeeming story, to your matchless glory, with your unspeakable joy. I pray in your mighty and merciful name.

Amen.