Everyday Prayers

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. 

A Prayer about New Year’s Eve  

Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory,
for the sake of your steadfast love and your faithfulness!
Why should the nations say,
“Where is their God?”
Our God is in the heavens;
he does all that he pleases.
Their idols are silver and gold,
the work of human hands. (Ps. 115:1–4)

Heavenly Father, as I sit quietly before you on the eve of a new year, I’ve got a good case of sad and glad going on inside of me. Both of these themes are at work in my heart as I reflect on the past year. It’s a good tension, one for which the gospel is more than sufficient. 

Looking back over the past twelve months, I can easily say with the psalmist, “Be praised, adored and worshiped, O God, for your love and your faithfulness!” Abba, Father, you loved me all year long with an everlasting, engaged, unwavering love, irrespective of anything I did or didn’t do. You loved me as much as you love your Son, Jesus, for you’ve hidden my life in his. Thank you for your steadfast love and fresh mercies that came every single day this past year, when I was aware of them and when I wasn’t. You remained faithful to everything you’ve promised in Jesus. Great is your faithfulness. You do every- thing that pleases you. This makes me very glad. 

But Father, it’s because of your love for me in Jesus that I can also own my sadness. This past year I also joined the nations in saying, “So where is your God?” You usually heard this complaint from me when you were busy doing what pleases you, and not what pleases me. Many times I trusted my voiceless, sightless, senseless, powerless idols more than I trusted you. I grieve my foolishness.

Here’s where the gladness trumps the sadness: I will not always be a man of two minds and a divided heart. Father, you will bring to completion the good gospel work you have begun in me. One day I will no longer even be tempted to worship anything or anyone but you. Hasten that glad and glorious day. 

But until that day, even on the eve of a new year, prepare me for twelve new months of groaning and growing in grace. Bring much glory to yourself as the gospel does its work in my life and through my life. I pray in Jesus’ faithful name. 

Amen.