Sermon: Anchored by Prayer-Lessons from Jesus’ Selection of the Twelve
- koorb1
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Reading of Sermon Text: Luke 6:12-16
Luke 6:12-16
[12] In these days he went out to the mountain to pray, and all night he continued in prayer to God. [13] And when day came, he called his disciples and chose from them twelve, whom he named apostles: [14] Simon, whom he named Peter, and Andrew his brother, and James and John, and Philip, and Bartholomew, [15] and Matthew, and Thomas, and James the son of Alphaeus, and Simon who was called the Zealot, [16] and Judas the son of James, and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor.
Proclamation of God's Word: Anchored by Prayer: Lessons from Jesus’ Selection of the Twelve
Last week’s sermon centered on this truth: in every relationship—friend to friend, parent to child, child to parent, even enemy to enemy (whether online or face-to-face)—disunity erupts when we don’t share the same dictionary of meaning.
The heart of the message was that Jesus, the Word made flesh, is our dictionary.
He alone has the right to define justice when humans argue over it.
He alone defines truth when we feel wronged or hear someone claim to speak it.
Without Him as our ultimate reference, confusion follows—from global wars to the inner chaos that drives a mass shooter in Canada, all the way down to the quiet heartbreak of a fractured friendship at school or a strained parent-child bond.
To be called a Christian means anchoring our entire worldview in Christ. We are not merely hearers and readers of the Word; we are doers—and just as importantly, pray-ers.
It was a message about making sure our relationships are anchored in True Divine Meaning.
That’s why last week’s message flows so naturally into today’s passage from Luke.
Here in Luke 6 this morning, we see Jesus about to form the most meaningful human relationships of His earthly life: the twelve apostles.
These are the men He will share His heart with most intimately.
These are the ones He will entrust with the growth of His kingdom and the reformation of the world.
These are the ones He will die for—and who, in grateful response, will give their lives for Him.
Even now, their Spirit-guided words in Scripture remain our authoritative dictionary for life.
Just as we saw last week, Jesus anchors every significant relationship in true meaning. And before He names the twelve, He anchors Himself:
[12] In these days he went out to the mountain to pray, and all night he continued in
prayer to God.
Jesus is about to make decisions that will alter the course of history.
We’ve all faced those transitional moments—the anxiety of a life-altering choice:
Who to date, who to marry.
Which career to pursue.
Whether to move, or
how to handle a health crisis.
For Jesus the stakes were infinitely higher. His choices carried eternal weight. And the opposition he faced was fiercer than anything we face.
Our text begins, “In these days…”
What days?
The days when Satan has taken notice of Him.
The days when the religious authorities are starting to seethe with hostility.
The days that will soon see them oppose Him at every turn—and ultimately conspire to kill Him.
In those darkening days, Jesus faces a momentous decision.
He will not leave it to chance. (And we shouldn’t either—there is no such thing as luck; there is only the wise, guiding hand of divine providence.)
No, He will not leave it to chance because Jesus was a master decision-maker.
Scripture tells us He “increased in wisdom” (Luke 2:52)—growing not in deity, but in His human-nature grasp of the best path to the best ends. And He understood better than anyone the critical key to right decisions.
And that critical key is this:
Momentous decisions require momentous prayer.
We do not make world-changing choices by our own strength or cleverness. If we want to follow Jesus’ example, we make them in the gentle, steady embrace of God’s providence.
And so what I want to do right now is unpack the structure of His all-night prayer as a blueprint for our own.
Main Point 1: The Pattern of Prayer – Modeling Dependence on God’s Providence
Let’s start by unpacking what we mean when we talk about God’s providence.
Providence means this: God doesn’t just decree all things from eternity past and then step back like a distant clockmaker.
No—He remains intimately involved in every detail of life, upholding, directing, and governing all things by His most wise and holy hand.
When it comes to God governing through the smallest details, I’m reminded here about a story I shared with the high schoolers this last week:
As a child, I nearly had my head crushed by my horse. (explain the situation)
The stride of the horse, the exact compaction of the soil under its hoof, the precise weight and angle, the nano-second timing of when I managed to hold on—just one centimeter of wiggle room separated life from disaster.
Change any single parameter—the moisture in the soil, how much hay the horse had eaten that week—and it could have ended very differently.
But God knew every one of those variables. Down to the tiniest detail. He orchestrated them all so that I wasn't killed as a six year old.
That’s providence—not the false god of deism who winds up the universe and walks away. The true God works providentially in our lives, yet in a way that never violates our free will.
He ordains both the ends and the means.
And one of his principal means is you and me—as maturing Christians—making wise, deliberate decisions informed by Scripture as our dictionary of meaning, and empowered by the Holy Spirit who dwells in us and whom we grow more attuned to every day.
So here’s point one: Jesus prays all night because He knows two things deeply.
First, God has a sovereign plan—a decreed purpose for the kingdom and for these twelve men.
Second, God has ongoing providence—He’s actively involved in every moment, every detail. And in that providence, God expects Jesus (in His perfect humanity) to make a wise, discerning choice.
This decision must be made in close consultation with the Father.
Yet it must also be made by Jesus Himself.
God wasn’t going to “robot” Him into picking the twelve. Jesus was to exercise His own wisdom, discernment, and training—all of it anchored in perfect dependence on God.
And this is what we want to learn as well for ourselves…
God isn't going to “robot” you into the decisions you must make. He wants you to exercise your own wisdom, discernment, and training—all of it anchored in perfect dependence on God.
Now, we don't have a transcript of what Jesus prayed that night on the mountain. But we do know His prayer life from elsewhere in the Gospels.
And based on the patterns we see in His other prayers, we can confidently say certain themes were almost certainly present in this all-night vigil.
Jesus’ prayers consistently show distinct ways He located Himself right in the center of the Father’s will. And we are going to explore these themes now:
Seeking alignment with the Father’s glory and purposes
Asking for wisdom and guidance in fulfilling His mission
Submitting His human will to the divine will
Giving thanks and praise even in hard circumstances
Interceding for those the Father had given Him
In all likelihood, almost without a doubt, these themes were the heartbeat of His prayer that night—preparing Him to choose the twelve in perfect harmony with the Father’s providential plan.
How can I confidently say that almost without a doubt this is how he prayed that night, and therefore how we should pray? Because this is how he always prayed.
Subpoint A: Adoration and Praise (Honoring God's Character and Sovereignty)
Jesus likely began His prayer with worship and adoration.
Remember the model He gave us in the Lord's Prayer: "Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name." Right from the start—before petitions, before anything else—comes honor for God's holy name.
Look at John 17:1-5, the High Priestly Prayer, for a clear example:
[1] When Jesus had spoken these words, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you, [2] since you have given him authority over all flesh, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. [3] And this is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. [4] I glorified you on earth, having accomplished the work that you gave me to do. [5] And now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had with you before the world existed.”
Notice the worship woven right in: Eternal life itself is defined as knowing the only true God and Jesus Christ whom He sent.
Jesus glorifies the Father for His authority, His gifts, His eternal plan. Adoration isn't an add-on—it's the heartbeat.
And Jesus frequently drew from the great psalms of praise, like Psalm 118, which repeats again and again:
"Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his steadfast love endures forever."
Or consider Psalm 8:
"O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!"
And just use your imagination with me for a second.
Imagine the silent crisp air on that mountain in Palestine… stars twinkling…
"O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!"
Can you imagine Jesus, the eternal Son, pausing on that mountain to declare these very words aloud to His Father? What would that sound like in the quiet night air?
(Pause 10–15 seconds for reflection.)
"O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!"
And listen to Psalm 145:3–5 as you imagine Jesus praying:
"Great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised, and his greatness is unsearchable. One generation shall commend your works to another, and shall declare your mighty acts. On the glorious splendor of your majesty, and on your wondrous works, I will meditate."
Jesus, as the perfect man, modeled this generational praise every day even in the face of coming crisis.
And we pause and ask ourselves: How might we commend God's works to our children amid our own big decisions?
See, when we pause to recount His mighty acts to the next generation, when we pause and speak to our children of what God has done and is doing and when we pray like this with them… we root our choices in the same awe that sustained Jesus.
And so the setting for any wise prayer—especially for big decisions—is God's glory. Not our agenda.
Prayer starts and ends with God's glory—not our agenda and certainly not our anxiety—but wonder and awe at how small we are and how vast He is.
The tone is set by reciting His attributes: Creator, goodness, beauty, power, ineffable majesty. When we begin our prayers this way—using Scripture's own words to describe the indescribable—something shifts.
We approach God with wonder... and incredible things happen.
Our God loves to show off—He should!
That's the point of praying to Him. It's not wrong for God to display His glory; when He shows up and shows Himself off, that's when the deep magic happens.
Think of Jonathan Edwards, who often began his prayers with extended adoration and praise. This practice shaped his deep dependence on God during the revivals he helped spark—transforming not just his heart but the decisions that fueled awakening in New England.
When we start with awe at God's majesty, our choices align more closely with His purposes.
Because that's the ultimate reason you and I exist: to the praise of His glory (Ephesians 1:12).
So without a doubt, Jesus' all-night prayer vigil—searching for meaning and wisdom in choosing the twelve—involved much praise and worship.
He didn't rush to the decision. He first filled the night with adoration, aligning His heart fully with the Father's sovereign character.
Jesus’ Prayer undoubtedly started with God's glory...
And It also undoubtedly involved
Subpoint B: Thanksgiving and Communion (Deep Relational Dialogue)
Jesus' prayers weren't just lists of requests—they were deeply relational. They built intimacy with the Father through thanksgiving and communion.
Think of John 11:41–42, right before raising Lazarus:
[41] So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. [42] I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.”
Even in a moment of public miracle, Jesus pauses first to give thanks—openly declaring the Father's constant hearing and faithfulness.
Or again in the High Priestly Prayer, John 17:20–26:
[20] “I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, [21] that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you sent me. [22] The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, [23] I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me. [24] Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world. [25] O righteous Father, even though the world does not know you, I know you, and these know that you have sent me. [26] I made known to them your name, and I will continue to make it known, that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.”
Do you hear in this prayer the thanksgiving of Jesus flowing into profound communion as Jesus thanks the Father for the glory shared, for the love given before the world began, for the oneness He enjoys with the Father—and then He extends that same oneness to us?
We see from Jesus' prayer life that prayer builds our intimacy with God.
And that should, of course, be the flavor of our own prayer. It's exactly what Jesus wanted for us in John 17:
[22] The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, [23] I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me.
Jesus prayed for oneness…
He prays for oneness...
and He invites us into that oneness through prayer.
If we would pray like Jesus, then prayers like Psalm 63 should be ours:
And again as I read this maybe Close your eyes for a moment—imagine Jesus whispering these words on the mountainside under the stars.
[1] O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
[2] So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,
beholding your power and glory.
[3] Because your steadfast love is better than life,
my lips will praise you.
[4] So I will bless you as long as I live;
in your name I will lift up my hands.
[5] My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food,
and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips,
[6] when I remember you upon my bed,
and meditate on you in the watches of the night;
[7] for you have been my help,
and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.
[8] My soul clings to you;
your right hand upholds me.
(Read slowly, then pause and invite:)
The Psalms are often spoken of as the prayers of Jesus… Did you catch the thirst expressed for the Father by Jesus? Now, where is your soul thirsty today?
No doubt Jesus' prayer that night was one in which He sought the Father, called on Him for sustaining grace through the long hours, and expressed deep thanksgiving for the Father's constant presence and help—carrying Him forward into the action of dawn's decision.
So should we.
And then no doubt Jesus was expressing gratitude for the Father's provision, for the disciples already given Him, for the plan unfolding—even amid coming opposition.
Paul learned this same pattern from Jesus' example. Listen to Philippians 4:6–7:
"...in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."
Thanksgiving in prayer guards our hearts and minds—especially in big decisions.
You may have experienced this… I certainly have…. that when unknowns seem overwhelming… as you begin to weave thanksgiving into your prayers—not just for the outcome you want, but for God's faithfulness in the past, for His provision you have already seen, for the way He has carried you through harder seasons—your anxiety slowly shifts to communion.
And the peace comes, not because the decision got easier, but because your heart was anchored in grateful dialogue with the Father.
That's the pattern Jesus models: thanksgiving opens the door to deeper communion, and communion brings the peace that guards us as we seek wisdom.
Subpoint C: Submission to God's Will and Seeking Guidance
This particular pattern of prayer runs deep in who Jesus was.
Think of the Garden of Gethsemane, the night before the crucifixion, when He was sweating great drops of blood in anguish. Even there, in the deepest agony, His prayer was one of radical submission:
Matthew 26:39–42
[39] …“My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” … [42] Again, for the second time, he went away and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.”
Nevertheless… not my will, but yours be done.
Nevertheless… not my will, but yours be done.
This submission was an everywhere pattern in Jesus' prayers.
John 5:30
“By myself I can do nothing; I judge only as I hear, and my judgment is just, for I seek not to please myself but him who sent me.”
John 6:38
“For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me.”
John 4:34
“My food,” said Jesus, “is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work.”
John 8:28–29 (NIV)
“So Jesus said, ‘When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am he and that I do nothing on my own but speak just what the Father has taught me. The one who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for I always do what pleases him.’”
Central to every prayer of Jesus was this core: alignment with the will of the Father.
This must be our core as well: Nevertheless—not our will, but Yours be done.
In the face of cancer, major moves, career changes, broken relationships, or any decision that carries real weight—nevertheless, not our will, but Yours be done.
Jesus' extended, all-night prayer on the mountain (and ours, if we will linger in it) gives us the space to:
Discern God's will and then
Surrender to God's will
Especially when the stakes touch eternity—which is exactly what was at stake as Jesus prepared to choose the foundational leaders for God's kingdom.
How much more, then, should we approach our own life decisions with this same posture of humble seeking and submission?
Paul echoes this truth in Romans 12:1–2:
“…present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”
Prayer renews the mind. It transforms our thinking so we can discern God's good, pleasing, and perfect will—especially in those big, life-shaping moments.
I've had moments like this myself. There was a season of intense conflict—division that felt impossible to navigate, where my own preferences screamed loudest.
I wanted my way, my vindication.
But as I prayed at 3 AM, on more than one sleepless night repeating “not my will, but Yours,” clarity came.
Not the outcome or vindication necessarily that I wanted, but peace that the path was God's. The conflict didn't vanish overnight, but my heart aligned, and healing began.
And this is because persistence and lingering in submission changes us.
So I ask you now: What “cup” are you facing right now?
A job loss? A threat to your health? A relational fracture? Uncertainty about the future?
Bring it honestly to the Father in submission tonight. Lay it down before Him.
(Pause for reflection)
Jesus modeled this perfectly on the mountain: seeking guidance not to bend God's will to His own, but to bend His human heart fully to the Father's.
And because He did, we can too—through the same Spirit who sustained Him.
Subpoint D: Intercession and Petition (Praying for Others and Needs)
Meaningful prayer that results in meaningful decisions always involves intercession and petition—for others and for the needs tied to those decisions.
This is a central theme woven throughout Scripture, and Jesus embodies it perfectly.
Consider the great intercessors who foreshadow Him:
Moses, one of Scripture's clearest types of Christ, intercedes when God is ready to wipe out rebellious Israel (Exodus 32:11–14). Just as Moses stood in the gap for a wayward people, Jesus knelt in prayer for these twelve, knowing the weight of what lay ahead for them.
Abraham pleads for the righteous in Sodom (Genesis 18:20–33). Just as Abraham bargained humbly for mercy, Jesus doubt interceded for the disciples He was about to call—men who would carry the gospel to the ends of the earth.
Job prays for his friends, and God restores his fortunes (Job 42:10). Just as Job's intercession brought restoration, Jesus' prayers would sustain these men through trials.
Amos stands in the gap to stop judgment fire from consuming the land (Amos 7:4–6). Just as Amos pleaded for mercy, Jesus pleaded for strength and faithfulness for His chosen ones.
Daniel confesses the sins of his people with “we,” identifying fully with them (Daniel 9:5). Just as Daniel owned the nation's guilt, Jesus would bear the sins of many and make intercession for transgressors (Isaiah 53:12).
Even Stephen, as stones crush him, prays, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them” (Acts 7:60). Just as Stephen interceded for his persecutors, Jesusprobably was praying for those who would one day oppose His followers.
We’ve already seen it in John 17—Jesus prays intensely for His disciples and for all future believers.
And Hebrews 7:25 declares:
“Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because
he always lives to intercede for them.”
Jesus lives to intercede—then and now, because meaningful prayer isn’t selfish; it reaches outward.
James 5:16: “Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed.”
1 Timothy 2:1: “I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for everyone.”
Romans 8:26: The Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.
Matthew 5:44: “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
No doubt Jesus was already formulating the petitions of the Lord’s Prayer—Our Father… give us… forgive us… lead us… deliver us—that He would teach His disciples in just a few chapters.
The point is clear: prayer that seeks God’s will isn’t self-centered. It intercedes for those affected by our choices.
As Jesus mulled over these twelve men, He was surely already anticipating the challenges ahead:
Betrayal (especially from Judas, whom He would still choose in sovereign wisdom. And betrayal also from Peter).
Trials, persecution, and—for most—a martyr’s death.
When He chose them, He was in effect signing their path toward suffering if they said yes. His choice was in effect a death sentence for these men.
And Even if they didn’t yet grasp it, He did. His prayers for these men that night must have been profoundly intense.
Listen again to Luke 22:31–32, words spoken later but rooted in the same intercessory heart:
[31] “Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, [32] but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers.”
Jesus prayed preemptively for Peter’s sifting.
Imagine Him on that mountain, naming each disciple by name—foreseeing Peter’s denial, Thomas’s doubt, Judas’s betrayal, the scattering of the others, the boldness that would come at Pentacost.
He prayed for them before they even knew what was coming.
What names is the Spirit prompting you to intercede for today?
If Jesus interceded all night before choosing the twelve, how much more should we pray for our spouses, our children, our church leaders, even our enemies before our next major step?
In fact, pause right now.
Think of one person affected by your decisions—a spouse, a child, a coworker, a friend, even someone in conflict. Bring their name and their needs before the Father silently.
So we could sum up: Jesus’ all-night prayer vigil was deeply and profoundly anchored in the God of meaning as He sought wisdom for this world-altering choice.
It was a prayer saturated with:
Adoration and Praise (Honoring God’s Character and Sovereignty)
Thanksgiving and Communion (Deep Intimate Relational Dialogue)
Submission to God’s Will and Seeking Guidance
Intercession and Petition (Praying for Others and Needs)
And because He prayed this way, the decision that followed was perfect—not by human wisdom, but by divine providence.
So where does this leave us?
Application: Four Practical Ways to Anchor Your Decisions in Prayer This Week
Carve out extended, undistracted time.Jesus went to the mountain—solitude, all night. Start small if needed: set aside 30–60 minutes this week (maybe tonight or tomorrow evening) with no phone, no interruptions. Walk outside if it helps. Just be with the Father before your next big choice.
Follow Jesus’ blueprint pattern.Use the four elements we unpacked:
Begin with adoration—praise God for who He is (use Psalms 8, 145, or John 17 as starters).
Move to thanksgiving—thank Him specifically for past faithfulness (Psalm 63 style).
Submit in surrender—“Nevertheless, not my will, but Yours be done.” Name your preferences, then release them.
End with intercession—pray by name for people affected by this decision (spouse, kids, coworkers, even “enemies” in the mix).
And add to your personal prayer a very important thing that would not have been in Jesus’ prayer… a confession of sin. Because a prayer could be perfect in every way, but If your spirit is walking in an unconfessed sin and is not anchored in humble repentance. It becomes an abomination.
So:
Adoration
Thanksgiving
Surrender and confession
Intercession
Write these points out if it helps—and turn your prayer into a simple journal entry.
Bring one specific decision to the Father this week.What’s weighing on you right now? A relationship strain? A job offer? A health concern? A family move? A ministry direction?
Don’t just mention it in passing—linger over it in prayer like Jesus did. Ask: “Father, what is Your will here? Align my heart to Yours.”Then listen. Wait. Trust providence over luck.
Pray with others when possible. (plug for Wednesday at the building)James 5:16 reminds us: confess sins and pray for one another so you may be healed. Find a trusted friend, spouse, or small group member and pray together about your decision. There’s power in agreement (Matthew 18:19–20).
Final Invitation
And finally, I want to add this… If you’re here today and you’ve never truly anchored your life in Christ—the One who is our dictionary of meaning—today is the day. He chose the twelve, died for their sins (and ours), rose again, and now invites you into relationship with the Father through Him.
And even if you don’t yet know Jesus, you can know him today. You too can come to Him in simple prayer: “Lord Jesus, I need You as my Savior and Lord. Anchor my life in You.”
None of us should leave here unchanged.
We must be a praying people—hearers, doers, and pray-ers—who make decisions anchored in God’s providence.
Let’s Pray,
*Charge
We’ve walked through the blueprint of Jesus’ all-night prayer on the mountain before choosing the twelve.
He didn’t rush. He didn’t strategize in human strength. He didn’t leave it to chance.
He anchored Himself in prayer—deep, prolonged, dependent prayer—and out of that communion with the Father came a decision of eternal consequence: twelve ordinary men who would become the foundation of the church, carrying the gospel to the world.
Remember last week: disunity comes when we don’t share the same dictionary of meaning. Jesus—the Word made flesh—is that dictionary. He defines truth, justice, love, purpose.
And here we see it lived out: before forming the most meaningful relationships of His ministry, before naming apostles who would write our authoritative dictionary (the New Testament), Jesus first anchored everything in prayer to the Father.
If the Son of God—perfect in wisdom, fully God and fully man—spent an entire night in prayer before a world-altering choice… how much more do we need to do the same?
Momentous decisions require momentous prayer. Not because God needs our begging, but because we need His guidance, His alignment, His peace.
The good news? We don’t pray alone. Jesus, who prayed perfectly, now lives to intercede for us (Hebrews 7:25). The Spirit groans with us when words fail (Romans 8:26). And the Father who heard Jesus on the mountain hears us today—because we come in Jesus’ name.
Your charge: Anchor all your meaning in Jesus
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