Incense

“Let my prayer be counted as incense before you.” – Psalm 141:2

“The four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each holding a harp, and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints.” – Revelation 5:8

One of the neat things about a reading plan that draws from four different parts of the Bible is how it allows you to more easily see concordant themes and imagery. If you were to take your finger and trace the topic of incense throughout the Bible, you might start in Exodus 30, which begins the story with a recipe, with the language of shekels and grams. The combination of myrrh, cinnamon, aromatic cane, cassia, and olive oil for the tabernacle incense is precise, costly, and patented: “you shall make no other like it in composition” (Exodus 30:32). We would trace through the books of the kings how personally God takes it when incense is burned to other gods. We would begin to understand what it all means through David’s plea, then finally see its full meaning in Revelation. Our prayers rise like incense into the very throne room of God in heaven.

How are our prayers like incense? They are intentional, just as the incense was made according to exact specifications. They are regular, just as the incense was burned every morning and evening. They are communal, just as everyone contributed to the resources used to make the incense. They are personal, just as incense was never burned in random but unto another being. They are costly, a privilege bought by Jesus’ blood, just as the incense was made of costly spices. 

But I think the most beautiful thing about incense is the way it spreads. It creates an aroma that fills the space it inhabits, and lingers there. It is impossible for anyone in that space to not smell the aroma—because we must by nature breathe, and because air molecules are not by nature easily separable, we cannot choose to not smell something as easily as we could, say, choose to close our eyes to not see something. Though invisible, aromas are powerful because of their ability to disperse and permeate. And typically, the smell of incense is sweet.

Our prayers are like that: invisible, but powerful, rising up to God. Filling the space with something which all in that throne room could sense, that all would receive as sweet, and powerful, and present. Our prayers allow us, in a way, to join the elders and creatures in worship of God in that place. All that prayers are, in their adoration and thanksgiving and lament and petition, are ultimately worship. Let my prayer be like incense before you, David writes. May it be counted so for us all.