Lord have mercy....

I have started into a discipline of practicing the daily office prayers every day. There is a section that is called "Prayers of the People," in which we offer prayers for others and then say "Lord have mercy," then followed by, "Christ have mercy." The prayer then acknowledges that God knows the necessity of each situation and knows our shortcomings when it comes to thinking we have some control. It is a confession that we are not in control, and that we desire mercy.

In the season of Lent, I am often reminded of the passage in Luke 18 about the Pharisee and the tax collector. In that story, which is a Lenten passage, you have the self-righteous pharisee and the humble tax collector. The pharisee offers extravagant words of prayer, and the tax collector, so ashamed as to not even look towards heaven, simply says "God, have mercy on me, a sinner." A powerful picture of acknowledging our place before God, broken.

I share this to say that instead of wanting all of the answers, I need mercy. Instead of acting as if everything is fine, I need mercy. For my attitude towards others, especially those who cannot help themselves, Lord have mercy on them, have mercy on me, a sinner.

On this road to the cross, may we all desire mercy in our acknowledgment that we are all lost in need of redemption; we are all broken in need of reconciliation; and we are all in desperate need of a savior.

Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy.

A glimpse...

I was a witness to the power of Christ this week. I have shared this story with my S.S. class and all who were in attendance to hear me preach this previous Wednesday night (2-3). This is a story of confrontation; of God reaching down to me and opening my eyes to the power that I proclaim to know through him. A story of reconciliation, redemption, and grace.

Modules had just ended, I was high-strung and very tired. Katie and I spent the weekend watching movies together as I was trying to "unwind." However, little things began to bother me about her attitude towards me. I began to feel attacked. This culminated to its pinnacle in no other place than on the drive to church. I was mad and she didn't know why. The last place I wanted to be was in church, acting like I was happy to be there, and smiling so that everyone could think that I was "fine" or "good." When all of a sudden God sought after me. Likened to Paul's "damascus experience," I was confronted with the presence of the living God and my eyes were opened.

You see, I became confronted with the very opposition of who I said I was, what I said I believed, and what the intention of gathering on Sunday mornings was supposed to signify. I claim to serve a God of redemption, and I was angry with my wife. I claim to serve a God of redemption, and I was holding a grudge against Katie. I say I live in that transformative power, and at that moment I was unmasked as a fraud. I became broken.

If I claim to live in that power, I have the ability, through Christ, to reconcile with others. That process began with person closest to me, my love. I broke down and apologized and nearly wept (all on the way to church), because I was not living in the power of Christ. In light of table fellowship, we acknowledge Christ's sacrifice, and we willingly embody that posture, which removes any distinctions among us and allows us to reconcile our differences among each other. In light of baptism, I have claimed to have died to my self and to have been resurrected with Christ as a new creation, willingly having no rights to myself but having surrendered to the power of God. I received salvation Sunday, and I need it more everyday.

I saw a glimpse of the kingdom then, and I long for it now. Katie has forgiven me and I am far from perfect, but I rest my life in the hands of the Father, live embodied by our Lord Jesus Christ, all through the power and work of the Holy Spirit. Thanks be to God.