Prayer of the Church

It has come as a bit of a surprise to me that one of the things that I have heard appreciation for most often since beginning in my new role is the prayers I share in worship. At Bethel, it is the role of the pastoral team to lead the weekly prayer of the church on Sundays. So, for something a little different, I thought that I would share today's prayer.

Giver of every good gift, in this season of gift-giving and gift-receiving, where every store we pass seems to want to tell us what we need or ought to need, today we remember the gifts that we receive from your hand that money cannot possibly buy: the beauty of winter sun sparkling on the surface of the snow, the breathtaking view of hoarfrost covering the branches on a winter morning, the northern lights that dance in the night sky—the beauty of Your creation, reflecting its creator. We give thanks for the miracle of the incarnation—for the light that pierces the great darkness, for the reminder that Your love has never given up on Your children, for the miracle of a helpless baby whose birth would change the course of history.

Even as we remember that there is a day coming when there will be no more gloom, nonetheless we live with awareness that the light has not yet vanquished all that which resides in the darkness. We listen to the news, we hear the stories of friends and neighbours, and we become still and recognize the hurts that we carry within ourselves—and we know that all is not as you intended.

And so today we bring to you our prayers. We bring prayers for healing for those who journey with failing health, who are undergoing treatments and therapy, who are patiently or not-so-patiently waiting for test results. We pray also for those who wrestle with depression and anxiety and other kinds of mental and emotional pain, especially in this season when the short hours of daylight and the long hours of darkness can be a struggle for so many. We pray for those we know who are enduring the pain of broken relationships, and who are facing this holiday season with fresh memories of loved ones who have died in the past year. God, you know these and other kinds of hurts that we and those we love carry. And we pray for healing, for comfort, and for glimpses of light that chase back the darkness, if only for a moment or two.

We pray for the places in our world that are hurting. For those recovering after the tsunami in Indonesia this past week, and for all those working to provide aid and relief there, we pray. We pray for the upcoming elections in Congo and Bangladesh, for a peaceful and just process. For all those in various places around the world who find themselves fleeing the only homes they’ve known out of fear for their own safety, we pray for provision for their immediate needs, and that they might find a place of welcome and safety soon. We long for a world where these kinds of conflict will cease and your peace will reign at last. We pray for politicians and others in positions of great power, for wisdom and kindness to prevail as they do the work they have been empowered for. 

God, we long for the day when your light will drown out the darkness once and for all. In the meantime, we pray that you would give us a vision of the kind of world you desire, and empower us to work towards greater peace for all people beginning right where we are.

And we offer you these gifts this morning, remembering that all that we are and all that we have is, in the end, a gift from you. May we steward them wisely, being generous as you are generous. 

Amen.