For as the rain and the snow come down from the heavens, and do not return there without watering the earth and making it bear and sprout, and furnishing seed to the sower and break to the eater; so will My word be which goes forth from My mouth; it will not return to Me empty, without accomplishing what I desire, and without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it.

~Isaiah 55: 10-11

Last week I sent someone a copy of Bonhoeffer's treatise on Psalms so that he, too, can learn to pray the Psalter.  Oh, my, am I thankful Luther suggests this as a beneficial thing to do!  I sent him an email letting him know the treatise was coming and to give him a bit of advice:  Read them aloud to yourself. Read them aloud to others. Let them be on your tongue. Let them fall from your lips. Let them fill your ears and your mind and your heart.

His copy arrived yesterday, and he emailed me his thanks.  I stopped then and prayed for him, for the courage to try something he has heard about but never thought to do in praying the Psalms.  I prayed that the Holy Spirit would reveal to him the riches of the Psalter, bringing the Word to his lips and ears and his mind and his heart.

I have been thinking about him this evening, wondering if he has opened the treatise yet.  I also bought one for each member of the nooner bible study and their spouses, but no one has really mentioned it.  That's okay, really. I purchased it for them because Bonhoeffer has schooled me in the riches of the prayer book of the bible, troubling my waters something fierce, yet painting such a portrait of grace as I can hardly stand.  I have read the book of Psalms more times than I can count now because of that tiny tomb.  I read them because of their clarion call.

You know, before Pastor plunked down the Book of Concord on the table next to the couch, I logged many an hour of television to keep me company, to pass the time when I was not feeling well, to spend time with friends.  I opened that book of doctrine and found the teaching I've craved for years, for decades.  I opened that book and found myself reading the bible for hours on end.  I do not pray a few verses of the Psalter or a even a whole Psalm.  Truly, I find myself praying many at a time for the riches in my mouth.  You'd laugh if you knew how many times I have played the audio file of Pastor reading Psalm 103 since Saturday.  I listen for forgiveness. I listen for mercy.  I listen for love.  Oh, I still watch the latest episode of the new Stargate, but I hunger not for that story as much as I do the story of Life.

I would like to quote another blogger because he speaks so clearly about what I have found in confessional Lutheranism:  There is freedom in Lutheranism that allows me to admit that I struggle with sin, to have a way to confess it openly, and to receive the forgiveness that I so desperately need. To receive Christ in the Supper while kneeling next to other sinners like me points us all outside of ourselves. He is not telling us to do more, try harder, or be better in that moment. Rather, it is pure Gospel being delivered to us, for us.

I do believe that is a simple, beautiful way to put it. 

When were you saved?  A question heard often in Protestant churches.  Oh, when I was eleven.  I accepted Jesus.  I. I. I. I. I.   Lutherans, as was explained in the Spirituality of the Cross, would say, Oh, about 2,000 years ago.  Always the cross.  Never I.  Always the cross.

Read the Psalter, and you will also see that the answer is also Today!  He saves me from my sin, from the daily, hourly, minute-by-minute onslaught of devil, from the only enemies that we truly have: sin and satan and death.  He saved me, is saving me, and will save me.  We read this in Psalm 25 yesterday.  It is all throughout the Psalter, all through the Living Word.

So, if the God of the entire universe is saving us, what then can we do, must we do?  Nothing.

Oh, how I cling to that.  Oh, how I struggle to understand it, to peel back the layers and layers and layers of works instruction that has covered me for decades.  Surely I must... Of course I should... 

Nothing.  Is there a more beautiful word in all of language?