From time to time I like to share an example of a pastoral prayer that was prayed at Grace Fellowship Church. The pastoral prayer is a time for one of the pastors or elders to pray before the congregation and to intercede on their behalf. It’s a precious element of a service. I prayed this prayer earlier this month.

Our Father in heaven, we love you. We have freely proclaimed that here this morning. Yet we also acknowledge that we only love you because you first loved us. On our own, there was nothing in us that was inclined toward you. Our hearts were all turned inward toward ourselves—our own honor, our own glory, our own praise.

But then you acted. You moved. You took the initiative. Your Spirit called us, and drew us, and transformed us so we willingly bowed the knee to you. We willingly turned to you in repentance and faith and praise and worship. And we now gladly and joyfully live for you—your honor, your glory, your praise.

And we pray that we would do that well—that we would live lives that are consecrated to your service, lives that make you look great. We ask that you would continue to transform us from the inside out. Make us so we are no longer conformed to this world but transformed by the renewal of our minds—transformed so that we can do your will—what is good and acceptable and perfect in your eyes.

If you transform our hearts, we know our desires will be transformed and so too our mouths, and our hands, and our feet. If you transform our hearts we will long for what is good, we will think thoughts that are pure, we will speak words that are sweet, we will do acts that are selfless, we will even follow in ways that are difficult or that cut hard against our natural desire for ease.

So please do that work in us. Let us be as holy as men and women can be on this side of heaven. Let our church be as pure and upright as a church can be on this side of eternity. Let our lives display as much as Christ as is possible when we are still so weak and broken and stained by sin. And all of this so you look great, so you prove to us and to all the world the great work that you can do in the lives of broken and sinful people like us.

Father, I want to pray for those in our midst who are going through a time of difficulty. Please be with those who are disappointed with the way their lives are going and who have not experienced some of the blessings they would so dearly love to have—be their sufficiency. Please be with those who are suffering loss—be their comfort. Please be with those who are enduring illnesses—be their strength. Please be with those who may be coming toward the end of their days—assure them that when they leave this place it will be only because you have called them home. And for all of those who are hurt or suffering or disquieted or downcast, let us be present with them and for them—present to help them, present to cheer them on, and present to speak your words of blessing.

Father I want to thank you for the special needs ministry and the great work they do. I pray that those who volunteer in this ministry will serve you with joy and skill. I want to thank you for the mercy and meals ministry and thank you for the many opportunities it provides to be a blessing to others. I want to thank you for the finance ministry and for your kind and generous provision for this church. I want to thank you for the opportunity to evangelize and to tell others about our great Savior Jesus Christ. I ask that in all these ministries we would be bold, we would be kind, and we would be found faithful.

And now as we continue in our worship, and as we open the Word and celebrate the Lord’s Supper, as we profess our faith and sing our praises, please use it all to continue that work of transformation within us so that we can become more and more like our precious Savior Jesus Christ, in whose name we pray. Amen.

The history of warfare has provided some shocking defeats. There’s the infamous battle of Cannae, of course, in which Hannibal routed the Roman forces, despite being significantly outnumbered. There’s the battle of Agincourt in which the English had a force just one-third the size of the French, yet inflicted vastly more casualties. There’s the utter destruction of the Spanish Armada in which the English navy and the wind and waves conspired to crush the Spanish forces. For every great military victory, there is a shocking defeat.

But the greatest is still to come. The last enemy to fall will be the one who suffers the greatest defeat in all of history, a defeat so great it is beyond our ability to even imagine or enumerate it.
In his letter to the church in Corinth, the Apostle Paul describes this enemy and its downfall: “The last enemy to be destroyed is death.” In this portion of his letter he is consoling Christians about the reality of their eventual demise and assuring them that the grave is not the end, for just as Jesus rose, so will all his people. In fact, so will all people, whether they belong to Jesus or have remained obstinately distant from him.
To this point in history, death has claimed 100% percent of humanity. Every single person who has ever been born has also died. Despite human progress, despite advances in science and medicine, despite groundbreaking new technologies, the morality rate continues at a tight 100%. We hear often of billionaires who are obsessed with extending their lifespans and of transhumanists who are attempting to upload consciousness to the cloud where a person could supposedly live on indefinitely. But we all know that it’s nothing but nonsense, nothing but a big distraction from the reality that death will claim us in the end. Even if we could double or triple the length of our days, death will eventually come calling and that will be that.
But there will be a time when death’s reign will come to a sure and sudden end. And in that day, all those who have died will be raised. Though we are accustomed to speaking about the resurrection of those who are in Christ, this resurrection will extend equally to those who are outside of Christ. Paul says, “there will be a resurrection of both the just and the unjust” (Acts 24:15). Meanwhile, John says, “For an hour is coming, in which all who are in the tombs shall hear his voice, and shall come forth.” Yet this resurrected population will be divided into two groups with two very different destinies: “those who did the good deeds to a resurrection of life, those who committed the evil deeds to a resurrection of judgment” (John 5:28–29).
Death has claimed all of humanity but will be forced to release all of humanity. Death has reigned in total triumph but will experience total loss. Death has put us to death, but will itself will be put to death. And we know this because of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, a kind of proof and down payment to demonstrate that God has power and authority over death.
In even the greatest military victories there has still been loss. King Henry may have won the Battle of Agincourt, but he still lost several hundred soldiers. Though the English triumphed over the Spanish in the English Channel, they still suffered casualties. There are no perfectly clean victories. Except this one. For the grave will give up her dead. All of her dead. Though death has claimed 100% of humanity, it will retain 0% of humanity. There could be no more complete defeat, no more colossal calamity.
And so, though death intimidates us, we can approach it with confidence, knowing that its doom is sure. Though the grave yawns open to receive us, we can go that way certain that we will return. Though death will add us to its rolls, we know its victory will be short-lived, for, when God’s purposes are complete and the time is right, “the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed” (1 Corinthians 15:51–52). We shall rise, we shall live, and to death we will say with triumph, “Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” And, if we love Christ, we shall go on to live with him and reign with him forever and ever.

At different times in their lives, the children of a particular family were summoned to their father’s office. He called them in and sat them down and told them that he was going to give them something precious. What he gave them might be different from what he had given their siblings, but it would be no less valuable to him, no less cherished. He would give them something and ask them to care for it, to treasure it, and to faithfully steward it. He explained that he would give them something specially suited to each of them as individuals, for as their father he knew them well—he knew their abilities, he knew their capacities, he knew their every strength and weakness, their every love and hate, their every dream and desire.

And so on the appointed day, each of them emerged from their father’s office with a new possession. One emerged with the title to a large piece of land, another with the deed to a large building, another with the position as head of one of the father’s businesses. Each emerged with a unique possession but with the same instruction: Make something of this. Make something of this on behalf of the father who loves you and for the good of our family.
The children took what they had been given and, to their surprise, found that they were sometimes attended with great difficulties. The one who received land found that, though it was fertile, it was unbroken and needed extensive care before it would be ready to bear crops. The one who received a building found that, though it was large, it was in poor condition and needed many repairs before it could be leased and generate an income. The one who received a business found that there was fierce competition and diminishing demand for its products. Yet each trusted their father so treasured what he had given and did their utmost to prove faithful to all he had called them to do.
And much like this, God grants to each of us something valuable that we are to receive and to treasure and to steward. He grants to each of us something that is meaningful to him and something for which he says “Make something of this.” And, like the father in our story, he may grant something that involves great potential but also great struggles, great possibilities but also great pain.
He may assign to one a painful and unrelenting illness. This is a difficult circumstance that comes with gritted teeth and sleepless nights and an uncertain future. Yet it also comes with many opportunities to practice dependence upon God, to devote sleepless nights to prayer, to display joy even through unremitting pain. This is a difficult thing to receive, yet one that is precious to God, for he values weakness and dependence and loves those who endure it in such a way as to shine his light in the darkness. Surely he assigns it carefully and purposefully and with great tenderness.
He may call one to parent a child who is profoundly disabled. This is no easy assignment, no easy calling, yet it is one through which the parent can serve as a clear display of God’s love for his people, of his commitment to us despite our inability, our helplessness, our utter dependence. Surely this is an assignment God bestows upon those he trusts and treasures in a special way since he calls these ones to care for his most special little lambs.
He may call one to pass through a sore bereavement, to have to say farewell so soon to ones they had loved, ones upon whom they depended, ones with whom they had planned a bright future. This assignment is given along with a broken heart and shattered dreams and days and nights of deep sorrow. And yet these ones are able to display trust in God despite griefs, to display faith that will endure such difficult circumstances, to proclaim to church and world alike that they will be true to the Lord when he gives as well as when he takes away.
The father of our story and the Father of our hearts bestow assignments upon each of us as they see fit. They do not bestow them thoughtlessly or arbitrarily, but with great care, great consideration, great deliberateness. Each gives what he does out of knowledge, not ignorance, with an awareness not only of who we are but of who we will become. Each gives what he does out of love and according to a good plan and purpose.
What the Father gives, it falls to us to receive, and to receive with faith—faith that God means for us to receive it and faith that God has a purpose in it, even if that purpose is not now clearly visible to our eye. It falls to us to receive willingly and steward faithfully in honor of the one who has so consistently and so extravagantly proven his love for us.