Category: December

A Prayer about Jesus, Our Brother and Prophet  

The Lord your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your brothers— it is to him you shall listen — just as you desired of the Lord your God at Horeb on the day of the assembly, when you said, “Let us not hear the voice of the Lord my God or see this great fire any more, lest I die.” And the Lord said to me, “They are right in what they have spoken. I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their brothers. And I will put my words in his mouth, and he shall speak to them all that I command him.” (Deut. 18:15–18)

Dear Jesus, of all the incredible promises made about your birth, I often overlook one of the first and most wonderful ones given. You are the greater Moses— our brother and prophet. What a joy it is to know that you rule the world with grace and truth, both of which you are full of (John 1:14). 

Throughout the history of redemption, God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets, at many times and in various ways. But finally and fully, he spoke to us through you, his beloved Son— Creator and heir of all things (Heb. 1:1–3). You are the final Word, Jesus, the living Word, the loving Word, the incarnate Word! We worship and adore you. 

Oh, the freedom and joy I have in knowing you’ve spoken and have not stuttered, Lord Jesus. Everything I need to know about God, about the world, about me, about the past, the present, and the future — about all things— I find in you. For all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge are hidden in you and revealed by you (Col. 1:3). You continually set me free from nonsense and no sense, from illusions and delusions, from all guessing and second guessing. 

Oh, the gladness of this Advent season that reminds me that I don’t cower at the foot of Mount Sinai to hear you teach. No! I am a part of the joyful assembly that listens to you preach the gospel to my heart from Mount Zion (Heb. 12:18–25)! Therefore, I will listen. I will not refuse you, for you speak only words of grace and truth, words of comfort and joy, and words of peace and new creation. I pray in your glorious name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Advent Tenderness  

Who has believed our message
and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?
He grew up before him like a tender shoot,
and like a root out of dry ground.
He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,
nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.
He was despised and rejected by mankind,
a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces he was despised,
and we held him in low esteem.
Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering. (Isa. 53:1–4 NIV)

Gracious Jesus, before now I’ve never thought of the manger as the very place the Father “planted” you, the “tender shoot” of Isaiah’s vision. But truly, you are the root that broke through the dry ground of a fallen universe. Who could have imagined that the humble estate of a stable would become such a garden of grace and glory? Who could have dreamed that the mighty arm of the Lord would be revealed most powerfully in the weakness of your birth? 

Jesus, I praise you for the humility and tenderness of your incarnation. You who created the very category of beauty— you who are quintessential beauty— became the one with “no beauty,” for us. Though I don’t fully understand all that entailed, one glance beyond your cradle to your cross brings this hard prophecy to life. 

You literally became everything ugly and vile about my sin. You became sin for me that in you I might be clothed and become the very righteousness of God. You who shared the eternal delight of the Godhead and the adoration and esteem of angels became the despised and rejected one for us— for me. 

You who are the fountain of pleasures, whose laughter fills heaven, whose joy is our strength, became the man of sorrows for us— for me. And though you didn’t remain a tender shoot, you have retained all tenderness. Lord Jesus, no one is familiar with suffering like you. In taking up your cross, you took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows. What a wonderful, merciful, tender Savior you are! 

If I can make progress in only one thing this Advent season, Lord Jesus, may it be to have a much greater esteem for you. Intensify my love for you, deepen my awe of your manger and your cross, and make me much more the tender man that the gospel is calling me to become. I pray in your holy and gracious name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Christmas Wisdom  

When they [the Magi] saw the star, they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy. And going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they presented him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh.
(Matt. 2:10–11)

Dear Jesus, whether they were kings, magicians, or astrologers and whether there were two, three, or seventeen of them, it makes no difference. The Magi were wise men, and they show us the way of true wisdom because they lead us to the Person of true wisdom. Jesus, you have become wisdom from God for us— “our righteousness and sanctification and redemption” (1 Cor. 1:30). That’s why we boast only in you and not in ourselves or our so-called wisdom. 

In fact, you’re the real seeker in the story of the Magi. Promises of your coming, an irrepressible calling, a providential star, a Spirit generated joy— how we praise you for drawing men and women to yourself from every period of history, every family of humanity, and every segment of society. Come Herod or high water, those you’ve come to save will come to you, Jesus. 

My prayer for this Advent season is quite simple: Jesus, please reveal more and more of your glory and grace to my heart. I want to bow quicker, lower, and with more joy than ever before you, my majestic and merciful King. Open the eyes of my heart a bit wider to behold the great hope to which you’ve called us in the gospel. Deepen my adoration of you, Jesus, and loosen my grip on my so-called treasures. What do I have that you have not given me? I pray in your most wise and worthy name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about the Quiet Certainty of Jesus’ Birth  

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to their own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them. (Luke 2:1–7 NIV)  

Jesus, it’s the beloved day we call Christmas Eve, the date we’ve set aside to remember and reflect upon your nativity. Luke took so much care to fix your birthday in the context of real history and a real world, but whether or not you were born anywhere close to December 25 is not important at all. That you were born— that you actually came from eternity into time and space— that’s what’s important, Jesus.

I sing to you today with all the passion and delight I can possibly muster, “Born that man (including me) no more may die, born to raise the sons of earth (including me), born to give them (including me) second birth.” For the certainty of your birth, and therefore my rebirth, I give you great praise. 

But for all the care Luke took to detail the circumstances of your birthday, it’s the quietness of your birth that astounds me. Any other king would’ve come with great fanfare and a royal entourage. But you came into our world in utter stillness and profound humility. “No room in the inn” wasn’t an insult to you. It was your choice, your plan, the way of the gospel.

We marvel, we wonder, we are in awe of you, Jesus. For you didn’t consider your equality with God something to be selfishly hoarded and held on to. Rather, you made yourself “nothing,” taking the very nature of a human servant— the “Servant of the Lord” of Isaiah’s vision and songs— and in your humility, you died our death on the cross. 

“Mild he lays his glory by . . . Veiled in flesh, the Godhead see . . . Hail, the incarnate Deity, pleased, as man, with men to dwell, Jesus, our Emmanuel! . . . Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled!” 

I so look forward to the day, Jesus, when every knee will bow and every tongue confess that you are Lord, to the glory of God the Father. It’s going to be a loud and large day. But this Christmas Eve I say to myself, “Be still, my soul . . . behold calm glory, savor mild mercy, worship your newborn King with quiet certainty.” I pray in Jesus’ great and gracious name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Jesus  

For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. (Luke 2:11)  

Dear Jesus, a most glorious and praise-filled “Happy birthday!” to you. Though you’ve existed forever in rich, joyful, pleasure filled relationship with the Father and the Holy Spirit, today we celebrate your coming to us and for us. 

I join brothers and sisters throughout the world and from all ages in celebrating that day on this day. Angels “harked,” shepherds ran, and Mary pondered the very good news that fills my heart this early morning. 

I praise you for being born in Bethlehem, the “house of bread.” I was a famished man, binge eating at many empty buffets, spending my money “for that which is not bread” (Isa. 55:2). But you came as the Bread of Life, and you’ve brought the feast of the gospel to my soul. Now I’m a truly satisfied man. 

Yes, I praise you for entering our world in the town of David, Israel’s beloved shepherd king. For what King David could never be, you’ve become for us— the Good Shepherd who laid down his life for his sheep and is now caring for us with relentless tenderness and persistent kindness. 

You’re the King of Kings, reigning over and working in all things, for your glory and our good. You’re the ruler of all the kings of the earth, setting them up and sitting them down at your sovereign discretion. No other kingdom but yours is everlasting. Knowing these things to be true, I have a peace that passes all understanding. 

I praise you, Jesus, that you are the long-time promised and much longed for Chris — the Messiah. We’re to look for no other, for in you every promise of God finds its fulfillment, its unequivocal “Yes!”

I praise you, Jesus, that you are the Lord— the Lord of all lords, very God of very God. Oh, for that magnificent day when every knee will bow and every tongue confess that you are indeed Lord, to the glory of God the Father! Happy birthday, in- deed, Lord Jesus. You are so easy to love and so worthy to be adored. I pray in your matchless and merciful name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about the Day after Christmas  

And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them. (Luke 2:20)  

Heavenly Father, life just on the other side of Christmas day feels quite different to different people. For some of us, this was the “greatest” Christmas ever in terms of healthy, caring relationships; incredible “eats”; thoughtful gifts, both given and received; and above all, fresh gratitude for the indescribable gift of your Son, Jesus. 

For others of us, it was a really difficult day of palpable tensions, dashed hopes, brokenness abounding. For still others, it was the first Christmas with an empty chair where a loved one used to sit, or a day spent all by ourselves in excruciating loneliness. 

Father, my prayer today is for all of us, no matter what yesterday was like. For even our best days are in need of the gospel, and none of our worst days are beyond the reach of the gospel. 

When the shepherds left Jesus’ manger, they were still shepherds. They still couldn’t worship at the temple; they still couldn’t give testimony in a court of law; they still were stereotyped as thieves by many in their community. And we shouldn’t romanticize what Joseph and Mary did the day after Jesus was born, as though all of a sudden a five-star inn in Bethlehem did open up, as though Mary’s body would have been spared all the normal chaos and pain of birthing and after birth, and as though angels would’ve started showing up as round the clock nurses.

Father, thank you that we’re Christians, not Gnostics. We don’t have to pretend about anything. Christmas isn’t a season in which we’re supposed to be transported into a super spirituality, rising above reality. The gospel isn’t about denial but is about learning to delight in you, no matter what is going on. We praise you that Jesus came into a real world where everything is broken, but he did come to make all things new, starting with us. 

Please give each of us the special and the common grace you gave the shepherds. Let us hear and let us see more of Jesus, even if we remain “shepherds” the rest of our lives. Enable us to glorify and praise you, Father, for you are not a man, that you would lie about anything. Everything you have told us in your Word will come to pass. This is good news for shepherds and kings alike. I pray in Jesus’ faithful name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Jesus, the Preacher of Peace  

And he [Jesus] came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access in one Spirit to the Father. (Eph. 2:17–18)  

Merciful Jesus, I don’t usually think of you as a preacher. Yet this Scripture presents you as the preacher of peace. Having just celebrated Christmas, I have a brand new appreciation for the wonder and the challenge of what this means. 

What is Christmas? It’s you, Jesus, coming as near as possible to us in your incarnation. You’ve come bringing the peace for which we are desperate— a peace that required your perfect obedience and your atoning death for us on the cross. Most definitely, Jesus, you are our peace. You destroyed the hostility between God and us. You are the peacemaker of all peacemakers. 

Now, in your resurrection glory, you’re the one who is constantly preaching the gospel of peace to us, through the widest array of preachers imaginable. Forgive us when we look to mere human preachers to do what you alone can do. For only you, Jesus, can apply the gospel to hearts dead in sin and trespasses (Eph. 2:1–7) and hearts, like mine that are prone to wander away from the gospel. 

Jesus, you preach the gospel to us not just as individuals but also as those who participate in a wide array of broken relationships. You came to reconcile us not just to God but also to one another. You’re committed to destroying all kinds of hostilities and reconciling all kinds of people— in the body of Christ, in our families, in our communities, even with our enemies. 

Glorious Prince of Peace, you who one day will reconcile wolves and lambs, leopards and goats, calves and lions— give me the desire, the humility, and the grace to be a man of peace. As far as it is in my own power (Rom. 12:18–21) and as far as the power of the gospel will take me, let me live as an agent of your reconciling love. I pray in your peerless and peace-full name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about the Pace of Peace  

Simeon took him [Jesus] in his arms and praised God, saying: “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you may now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all nations: a light for revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel.” (Luke 2:28–32 NIV)  

Gracious Jesus, it’s just a few days after Christmas and already many of my neighbors are taking down their lights and trees. It seems like we’re always in a hurry for the next thing. Traffic never moves fast enough, waiters don’t bring our food soon enough, and the mail isn’t delivered quick enough. I’m no exception to this harried and hurried way of doing life. 

I guess this is one of the reasons I’m drawn to Simeon, a man who seemed to live at a different pace than I do. We know so little about this “righteous and devout” man, but we do know he was “waiting for the consolation of Israel”— that is, longing for the arrival of the Messiah, anticipating the fulfillment of promises God alone can keep, hoping to see you, Jesus, though he didn’t know your name. 

Eight days after your birth, Jesus, Simeon took you into his arms— you, by whose arms all things have been made and are sustained. Whether or not he expected to die soon, the peace that resulted from that embrace changed everything. 

Jesus, it’s only because you have embraced me in the gospel that I have the same peace Simeon experienced. For you are God’s promised salvation for Israel, for Gentiles, and for me. In you I have found the consolation that can be found nowhere else. You are my forgiveness, my righteousness, my sanity, my peace, and a whole lot more. 

But as we’re on the verge of beginning a new year, I want the peace of your grace to help me live by the pace of your peace in this next season. Slow me down, Jesus. Center me. Settle me. Focus me. If I’m going to be in a hurry about one thing this year, may it be to linger longer in your presence. Everything else will take care of it- self. I pray in your glorious name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about Jesus Transforming Worship  

There was also a prophet, Anna, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was very old; she had lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, and then was a widow until she was eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped night and day, fasting and praying. Coming up to them at that very moment, she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child [Jesus] to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem. (Luke 2:36–38 NIV)  

Jesus, there are so many reasons to love and praise you. Today I’m grateful for how you radically transformed the worship of God. The main reason we’ve been created is to glorify God and enjoy him forever, so nothing is more important than how we worship God. 

Though I admire Anna for her life of devotion— worshiping God ceaselessly in the temple— I adore you for removing all the limitations temple worship imposed. You were just eight days old when Anna met you in the temple. There’s no way she could have imagined you came into the world to fulfill and replace temple worship forever. 

By giving yourself for us on the cross, you have once and for all atoned for our sins and exhausted God’s righteous judgment against us. You fulfilled the entire sacrificial system. It will never resume. Hallelujah! 

Not only is there now no condemnation, there is now full celebration, for we are fully and eternally acceptable to God in you. The sacrifice we make is one of praise, for you are the Lamb of God who has taken away our sin forever. The gospel put an end to all self-centered fears and concerns in worship. 

I also praise you, Jesus, for removing all spatial and calendar limitations on God’s worship. Because of what you have done for us, “true worshipers” are those who worship God in spirit and in truth (John 4:21–26), not just in one place but in every place. Though we are still to gather with our brothers and sisters for services of worship, you have transformed the entire Christian life into worship service.

Because of you, Jesus, one day the entire earth will be covered with the knowledge of the glory of God. The final sanctuary will be the new heaven and new earth. Every creature and all creation will be liberated for the praise of your glory and grace. Oh, hasten that glad and glorious day! 

Until that day, Jesus, may the gospel free us to worship God more passionately and faithfully through prayer and fasting, like Anna, but also by everything else we do in life— with our thoughts, by our words, and through many gospel deeds. We pray in your holy and loving name.

Amen. 

A Prayer about a Most Beautiful Irony  

When Joseph and Mary had done everything required by the Law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee to their own town of Nazareth. And the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom and the grace of God was on him. (Luke 2:39–40 NIV)  

Dear Jesus, I don’t know if I’ve ever thought about irony being beautiful until today. But it seems that everything connected to you reveals beauty in one way or another. Joseph and Mary were such faithful and loving parents from your conception on, helping you grow and become strong. After you were born, they did “everything required by the Law of the Lord” on your behalf. But little did they realize it was you who was born to fulfill everything required by the law of the Lord for them and for us! 

Oh, wonder of wonders! My heart sings and soars as I reflect upon your humility, your kindness, and your servant love for us, Jesus. You came not to destroy the law but to fulfill it on our behalf. What I could never do, you’ve done for me. What I could never be, you became for me. The law demands a righteousness and a beauty that come to us freely and fully in you, Jesus. 

Your last words from the cross, “It is finished,” have become my first words of freedom. It’s not my obedience but yours in which I trust. It’s not my righteousness but yours in which I boast and rest. By the same grace you saved me and you are now changing me. 

As this gospel continues to make me sane, I’m trusting it will make me more and more whole, more and more like you, Jesus. Fulfill in me everything you desire for me as a spouse, a parent, a grandparent, a child, a friend, a neighbor. Show me clearly and specifically what this will look like. There’s nothing more I could possibly want from the rest of my days in this world. I pray in your most glorious and gracious name.

Amen.