Review: Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace

Cover image of "Make Me an Instrument of your Peace" by Mark DeYmaz

Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace

Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace, Mark DeYmaz. NavPress (ISBN: 9798898020170) 2026.

Summary: A reflection on the Prayer of St Francis and how we might be transformed into instruments of peace.

Often in our efforts to communicate the good news of Christ, we focus more on the content of the message than the character of the messenger. Both matter, but in our time of conflict and scandals even in the churches, character matters more than ever. In this book, Mark DeYmaz walks through the Prayer of St. Francis, also known as the Peace Prayer for its opening line: “Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.” DeYmaz believes that as we pray into and live into this prayer, we may represent Jesus increasingly well in our chaotic world.

He begins by offering a bit of history of the prayer, whose true author is unknown, although it is attributed to St. Francis. It first appeared in La Clochette, a small magazine, in 1912. He offers a threefold structure for understanding the prayer:

Section 1: What. The petitioner understands that instruments of peace provide antidotes to help alleviate internal and external human conflict.

Section 2: How. The petitioner recognizes that instruments of peace surrender self-centered interests and desires to serve the greater good.

Section 3: Why. The petitioner believes that the instruments of peace find fulfillment paradoxically through selflessness and sacrifice. (p. 15)

DeYmaz then walks through the prayer section by section, phrase by phrase, exploring how Christ works transformation in and through us.

First of all, DeYmaz links the opening petition of the Peace Prayer to Isaiah 61 as echoed in Luke 4. Specifically, Jesus speaks of the anointing of the Spirit upon him to preach good news as the one who comes as a Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6). As we pray this petition and identify with the Anointed One, we share in his anointing.

Then, in the second part, we surrender self-interest for transcending goods. We break cycles of hate, including conspiracies and “enemy groups,” through unconditional love. Then we recognize where we’ve been hurt and wronged and “put pardon.” Doubt and fear pervade our landscape. Hence, faith that leans in and perseveres in walking toward what God promises offers hope to others. But many lack hope and despair. Lacking the vision of a destination, people despair and become cynical. But if we “wait in hope” with and for others, we encourage them that hope in Christ is possible. As we abide in Christ, we become lights by which others see in the darkness. Lastly, when we choose joy amid sadness, we spread that joy to others.

Finally, we pray into a life that finds fulfillment through selflessness and sacrifice. Having experienced the Spirit’s consolation, we walk along others in pain, remembering our consolation. We recognize that understanding between people comes not by trying to make others understand us. Instead, it comes through genuinely listening, asking good questions and assuming the best of others. Since Christ loves us unconditionally, we extend grace and unconditional love to others. We trust that God will overmatch our own generosity. Like Pope John Paul, who forgave his assassin, we pardon as those who could not have a relationship with God without his pardon. Lastly, we pray to live into the truth that only by dying to self can we save our lives.

Each chapter concludes with a few questions for reflection. Throughout the text, DeYmaz offers illustrations of the truth in each petition. And he shows how each of the petitions are grounded in scripture. The Prayer of St. Francis is one many have committed to memory to pray daily. C.S. Lewis, in writing on prayer suggested that we see prayers like the “Our Father” as structure on which we “festoon” our prayers. Mark DeYmaz offers substance by which we might do the same with The Peace Prayer. By so doing, identified with the Prince of Peace, we engage in a practice that day by day, forms Christ’s character in us. And that is good news not only for us but for our world.

_____________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher for review.

Review: Answering God

Cover image for "Answering God" by Eugene H. Peterson

Answering God

Answering God, Eugene H. Peterson. Harper One (ISBN: 9780060665128) 1991.

Summary: Contends that the Psalms, explored here, are necessary instruction in prayer, understood as answering the God who addresses us.

It is not uncommon, when the questioned “How do I pray?” to say something like, “Just talk to God, expressing honestly what is on your heart.” Eugene H. Peterson, while not saying this is wrong, believes there is a lot more to prayer and praying. First of all, he proposes that praying is a tool. He believes that it is at the center of our being human. More than that, he proposes that prayer is a tool by which God works his will in us and by which we collaborate with that work. For Peterson, the Psalms are our necessary toolbox to train us in how to pray. So it has been throughout church history.

Peterson makes one more startling claim. We think prayer is about talking to God. Rather, he believes the Psalms are about answering God. Instead of our seeking God, God comes to us and speaks amidst our sin, our despair, or even our gratitude. The Psalms coach us in answering God, leading us into true conversation with God.

Before taking us through several Psalms that answer God in various ways, Peterson addresses some basic realities about the Psalms. They are not only texts, they are prayers written as poetry. As such, they take us into the depths of both God and ourselves, giving voice to the inchoate. They are not primarily about understanding ourselves. Rather, they are about addressing the one God who has everything to do with our lives. Furthermore, they are embedded in a canon of sixty-six books, part of a larger story of the People of God. Finally, although we often pray on our own, these are prayers of a community. When we pray these, we are praying with others, across the world and across the centuries.

Peterson begins at the beginning, with the “pre-prayers” of Psalms 1 and 2. Psalm 1 emphasizes meditation on Torah as the roots of our life, our prayers. Psalm 2 then leads us into adoration of the Lord and his Anointed, his Messiah, contrasted with the rulers of this world. Then as he unfolds Psalm 3, Peterson focuses on language. He contends language takes three forms, I being the language of intimacy and relationship, II the language of information, and III, the language of motivation. The Psalms are about Language I. Psalm 3 illustrates this with its cry against enemies, its expression of trust, its cry for salvation. No abstractions here but rather the language of urgent and intimate relationship.

In the following chapter, Peterson reminds us of how Psalms are set in a story–the David story, the bigger story of Israel, and ultimately a story of which we are a part. Both poetry and life have rhythms. Peterson observes for us the rhythms of evening and morning in Psalms 4 and 5. Psalm 4 begins the day in the evening and our rest in God’s care, followed by Psalm 5, with our rising in the morning to God’s work for us in the day. Then Peterson jumps to Psalm 18, observing how God teaches us to pray by metaphor. God is strength, rock, fortress, deliverer, shield, horn, and stronghold. Prayer is not gnostic. God is described but not idolized in material terms, not in spiritual abstractions.

As noted earlier, the Psalms imply a praying community. Peterson notes the liturgical notations in many Psalms. When we pray in community, we recognize that the one who summoned us is in charge. The Psalms are liturgy, but this hardly means bland as we speak the sharp-edged expressions of desperation, repentance, longing, and wonder. Then Peterson turns to the most sharp-edged psalm many of us would excise if we could, Psalm 137, with its dashing of little ones against rocks. The focus is on enemies, and Peterson argues we need to pray our hatred of our enemies before we get to the place of loving them. So this is a Psalm we desperately need.

The Psalms are about memory. We remember our creation, our implication in sin, the country of salvation. Hence, the Psalms give coherence to the disparate aspects of our lives. Finally, the Psalms end in an effusion of praise. We are thus reminded that the end of prayer, the end of life, and indeed, our destiny is the praise of God.

Thus, Peterson sums up the Psalms in ten words: Text, Way, Language, Story, Rhythm, Metaphor, Liturgy, Enemies, Memory, and End. I found that in the concision of these words and the chapters a clear scaffold on which to hang my praying of the Psalms. Peterson not only makes sense of the Psalms without a psalm-by-psalm commentary. He also gives us a primer on Christian prayer, both its purpose, and our primary instructional text. And in introducing the Psalms as the church’s prayer book, he invites us to rise from our merely personal and often idiosyncratic prayers, to pray with both ancient Israel and the church across the centuries.

Review: Prayer Takes Us Home

Cover image of " Prayer Takes Us Home" by Gerhard Lohfink

Prayer Takes Us Home

Prayer Takes Us Home, Gerhard Lohfink, Translated by Linda M. Maloney. Liturgical Press (ISBN: 9780814688069) 2020.

Summary: What Christians believe about prayer and the various ways Christians pray and experience God in prayer.

Last year, I had the chance to review Gerhard Lohfink’s Why I Believe in God, which I named my Best Religious Memoir of 2025. His warm “theological memoir” filled with love for God motivated me to get my hands on other works of his. This is one of those.

The subtitle of this book states it is on the theology and practice of prayer. Lest you fear a dry disquisition on prayer, let me assure you I found the same personal warm of devotion in these pages as in his memoir. Here was someone who thought deeply both about the One he addressed and who clearly had devoted his life to prayer, aided by the structures of Catholicism.

He writes about Christian prayer, and that must begin with who we address. Rather than some generic “God” we address the Father through the Son and by the help of the Holy Spirit. He reminds us that we stand together in worship before the Living God, able to come face to face. We are helped in our prayers by the deep sighs of the Spirit. We do not pray to three gods, though we may address our prayers to each of the persons of the one Godhead, He encourages us that God is active in the world and that his “saving will and our prayers work together.”

Then he turns to the many forms of prayer. He reminds us of the different forms our every day speech takes and suggests that prayer is no different. He writes about petition, including a defense of asking God for things, praise, and lament. This last is a helpful corrective for “happy-clappy” Christianity. He explores the extensive material on lament in the scriptures.

I love how he introduces the Psalms as our home for all seasons, in joy and when beset by woes. They are our shelter, indeed our home, even as we make our way to Zion. He then gives instruction on meditation. This is not emptying one’s mind, but filling it with our story in scripture, in creeds, and the church’s prayers. For Lohfink, all this prayers us for the Eucharist. While this reflects a Catholic understanding, Lohfink’s discussion of the element of thanksgiving for the gift of God in Christ, manifest in the gifts of bread and cup, lifts us out of ritual into real communion.

The final chapter is characteristic Lohfink, in which he relates his personal history of prayer. His intent is not that we would follow his example. Nor does he want us to cram all the experiences of his life into our prayer practice. Rather, he wants to assure us in our own experience in both times of dryness and unspeakable joy. Here, as throughout, I sensed a brother walking alongside, not a superior speaking to novices.

Although I am not a Catholic Christian, I found much that spoke to my own prayer life. My heart was warmed by the greatness of God described on these pages and the awesome wonder of corporate worship and gathering at the Lord’s table. The chapter on Christian meditation is one of the best I’ve read. His encouragements that God is active and works in and through our prayers is truth I can never hear enough. He reminds me that in prayer, God takes us home.

Review: Not Finished Yet

Cover image of "Not Finished Yet" by Sharon Garlough Brown, illustrated by Jessica Linn Evans

Not Finished Yet, Sharon Garlough Brown, illustrated by Jessica Linn Evans. IVP Kids (ISBN: 9781514007952) 2024.

Summary: While “painting prayers” with Gran, Wren discovers she can honestly share all her feelings with God.

An old shed behind the farm house was a wonderful place for Gran and Wren. It’s where they painted together. Some of their paintings didn’t look like much. But Gran defended the mess, saying that you finish a painting when you sign your name.

One of the things Gran and Wren like to do was “paint prayers.” For example, a painted squiggle served to say “Dear God.” Wren wanted to paint feeling special. She picked out colors that felt “special.” But when she put paint to canvas, it looked like an ugly dark blob. Instead of special, she felt awful. Gran asked her for a title to express all the feelings in the blob. Finally, she said, “disappointed.”

Gran asks her to think about and paint her disappointments. A lot had to do with how others treated her at school, or when animals died. Then she dares to admit she sometimes God disappoints her. Gran calls her brave to be able to admit that, and if Gran wasn’t disappointed with her, maybe God wasn’t. And so she paints the sad and scary things she wants to say to God.

It ends up that she does feel special. Heard. What she thought and felt mattered to God. And she signed her name. And in Gran’s embrace, Gran talks about how God isn’t finished yet with the scary, broken world and imagines with her the day he signs his name.

Some, who know Brown’s novel Shades of Light will recognize Wren. But even if not, the story stands on its own as a beautiful statement about how we can be honest with God about all our feelings. It even suggests how we might use the arts in giving expression to what is within us. Complementing the text, the illustrations of Jessica Linn Evans take us into the feelings of Wren. Most of all, Sharon Garlough Brown reminds us of what it means to face the sad and scary and lean into the hope that God, too, will someday be done.

____________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher for review.

Review: Kaylee Prays for the Children of the World

Cover image for "Kaylee Prays for the Children of the World" by Helen Lee, Illustrated by Shin Maeng

Kaylee Prays for the Children of the World, Helen Lee, illustrated by Shin Maeng. IVP Kid (ISBN: 9781514009161) 2025.

Summary: Kaylee and her grandfather learn of needy children in the news and struggle for words to pray.

“God, do you care about this boy?

“God, do you care about all these children in the world?”

“There is so much to pray for!”

How do you pray when it is all jumble and you can’t find the words?

Kaylee and her Korean-American grandfather Halbi read the newspaper at breakfast each morning. When they see a story of a child in need, they cut out the picture and pray for the child and pin the picture to a world map full of pictures.

This morning, Kaylee sees a picture of a boy from Turkey, standing in front of a row of tents, made of blankets. He looks sad, with tears in his eyes. Kaylee wonders if God really cares for him. She looks at their world map and sees so many pictures. Children from North Korea, India, South Sudan and even the United States.

There are so many, Kaylee is not sure how to pray for all the brokenness in the world. She remembers God promises to help when we don’t have words and she prays “Help me, Holy Spirit.” And suddenly the words come as she prays in English, Halbi in Korean, and Keedo, their dog, in his own language (“Keedo” is Korean for “prayer”).

Helen Lee takes the hard questions at the heart of intercessory prayer and offers the quiet hope that God helps and hears that bears fruit in joy and peace. She also offers in this story a wonderful model of learning about and responding prayerfully to the world’s needs. She even introduces us to the Korean practice of tongsung kido, the Korean practice of simultaneous prayer.

In addition, the illustrations by Shin Maeng captures the shifting moods and emotions in this story while visually portraying the world’s children for whom they pray. In short, this briefly told story speaks to the challenges parents and children face as they pray. And it invites us to ask the Holy Spirit’s help to untangle our words and help us pray. It is a story to speak to a child’s heart. It spoke to mine.

____________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher for review.

Review: Being Here

Being Here: Prayers for Curiosity, Justice, and Love, Pádraig Ó Tuama. Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2024.

Summary: A book of essays and prayers, including 31 days of readings and prayers, focused on being in communion with God as we seek to live lovingly and justly in our own places.

Pádraig Ó Tuama is an Irish poet-theologian invited for a writer-in-residence program at the Church of the Heavenly Rest in Manhattan during 2020. The essays, poems, and prayers of this book arose out of the pandemic and ensuing lockdowns of this annus horribilis. The work opens with this prayer that seemed to express the longings of many of us in that year:

     Turning to the light
     the light turns to us.
     Moving toward the source
     the source moves toward us.
     Holding on to hope
     hope holds on to us.

The book opens with asking, “What is Prayer?” and answers “It’s not a passport to heaven. If anything, it’s a way of seeing here, a way, of being here.” After a short essay on the uses of the book, Pádraig Ó Tuama offers a fascinating essay on the Collect, a form he uses through the thirty-one days of prayer to follow. His most succinct summary is:

  1. Address
  2. Say more
  3. Ask one thing
  4. Say more
  5. End

Then he practices that kind of succinctness over the 31 prayers and readings that follow. For each day, there is:

  • Opening Prayer
  • Reading (drawn from literature)
  • Scripture
  • Silence
  • Collect of the Day
  • A Remembering Prayer

The opening prayer and remembering prayer are the same throughout. I found myself centering on different phrases each day. The prayers for generosity, encounter, stories, new beginnings and mutual confession in the opening are gathered up in this wonderful closing: “Because this is a way of living/That’s worth living daily.” Being here. The remembering prayer recalls the glory of our creation as very good as we look about our city and then “pray for our city/and for the cities we are” and that God would breathe renewal into us throughout our days and all their encounters. What a wonderful prayer to pray in the midst of Manhattan or any of our cities! Being here.

Between the opening and remembering prayers were literary and scripture readings, a time for silence, and a collect, often thematically related. For example, from day 18, he pairs Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s Aurora Leigh, with its tale of dying aspirations and the call of Life, with Matthew 20:32, where Jesus asks the question “What do you want me to do for you?” He follows with this collect:

     Questioning Jesus,
     we do not always know what we want.
     Yet what we want
     can drive us
     even when we do not know it.
     Help us find the moments to come in contact
     with those deep drives
     so that we can be moved
     toward what will
     create
     and not destroy.
     Amen.

The thirty one days follow the course of Jesus’s life from genealogy and birth to death and resurrection.

The book concludes with several brief essays and poems including one on the power of stories during the author’s struggle with vertigo amid our collective disorientation of COVID, and one on the spirituality of conflict. There is also a thought-provoking essay on Mary questioning the ways we shroud her with a kind of saccharine piety when her life, and the life she bears, is a form of resistance to Rome. And he offers a wonderful prayer for times after pandemic, asking, “Help us help us/with the time needed for integration;/with the time needed for risk;/with the time for recovery/and honor and trying old things again/and trying new things again, too.”

What Pádraig Ó Tuama brings us in these prayers is an invitation to be present both to Christ and to our lives, and the lives around us. Indeed, this is praying that opens our eyes to the presence of the unseen kingdom in our midst. Being here.

____________________

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher for review.