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My new friend and Pastor both see God's mercy and goodness in her brokenness. She is thankful that I am helping her read the Book of Concord and has even passed my recordings on to another. I am confused. But the one thing I do know about God is that He is an expert at crafting good out of evil, at turning sorrow into joy. And the Law is always good. The Law is love. The Law is perfect. Though I still am troubled by what I truly feel was thoughtlessness on my part, I do rejoice with her that she can see His loving hand throughout and that she has not been scared away from the riches found in the pure teaching of the Book of Concord.
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Someone emailed me about Stark's Prayer on Mercy I posted, asking if I found written prayers somewhat hollow. In short: no, I do not.
I admit now, as I have before, that I heartily miss the fellowship of what I have heard Lutherans term spontaneous prayer with fellow Christians. Oh, how I miss coming before my Lord and Savior with my brothers and sisters as we praise and thank Him for His work and lift up those around us, speaking the words from our hearts and our faith. So often when Pastor is praying the collect and other prayers written before me I want to join it, but it is not my turn, not my place. It is NOT that Lutherans do not do the same. In truth, I sometimes wonder if their private piety of prayer is not more honest than most of what I have often shared with other Christians. And praying the Litany, the Prayer on Wednesday from the Treasury of Daily Prayer, and Psalm 136 with other Christians has brought such rich fellowship. [Sometimes I think I ask others to pray those three prayers with me too much.] But I have worshiped through spontaneous prayer with others and I miss it. I truly do.
However, as I have written before, here and elsewhere, one of my favorite parts of the Treasury of Daily Prayer is the collection of daily prayers (the purple ribbon section). Coming only recently to Lutheranism, I am simply not accustomed to written prayers. In truth, I supposed them kind of suspect, cold and perhaps out of date. However, I now revel in the heritage of faith that permeates many of the ones I’ve encountered. And I find comfort in having the words of my heart, ones I cannot form on my own, fall from my lips because someone else has prayed them for me.
In the Treasury, I found these prayers difficult to pray at first…thinking so much about why they were there, why they were chosen, what they should be representing to me. But then I stopped thinking and simply allowed the words to fill my ears.
Thursday, I sorrow for my arrogance and hunger even more for His gifts. Monday I marvel how He cares for us and works in a world that has lost sight of the beauty of His Bride. Saturday I cry for redemption from my sin, for yours, for all sin in the forgiveness of Christ, in the coming Body and Blood. Tuesday, I defeat the wiles of the deceiver beneath the Name that fells him. Friday, I struggle to speak of His passion, knowing well my sin and marvel how great His love for one like me to endure what He did, not merely as a man, but as God, who could have blinked every accuser, every torturer, every taunter off the face of the earth. Yet He chose to stay on that cross!
Each day, the prayers, those spoken just a week ago, are new. They teach me of my faith. They sustain me. They show me how to cling to Christ. But they also are the cry of generations. They are the words of our past, our present, and our future as children of God. To me, they are, in a sense, the Church, and as I pray them, I stand shoulder to shoulder with all those, in all times, who fall before the feet of our High Priest, who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin, so that we may draw near with confidence and receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. A High Priest who loves us enough to remain on the cross and endure being brutally murdered, when it was our agony, our death!
As you have probably guessed, the one I savor most is the Prayer on Wednesday. I see this not only as a prayer for the dying, but also for myself. We are, after all, dying a little every day we age in this fallen world, inexorably moving from our birth to our death. The cry for mercy bespeaks the misery this world offers, yet points repeatedly to the wondrous mercy we have from the Creator, the Redeemer, and the Comforter of all. Whenever I pray this prayer, I feel it is too short, as if I am not ready for it to be over, much as I do praying the Litany and Psalm 136. This is more so when I have the opportunity to pray it with others. The ending I could recite all evening and never tire.
Christ the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, have mercy upon us.
Christ the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, grant them your peace.
O Christ, hear us.
O Lord, have mercy.
O Christ, have mercy.
O Lord, have mercy.
Amen.
Holy Lord God, holy and mighty God, holy and most merciful Redeemer; God eternal, leave us not to bitter death. Lord, have mercy.
Holy Lord God, holy and mighty God, holy and most merciful Redeemer; God eternal, allow us not to lose hope in the face of death and hell. Lord, have mercy.
Holy Lord God, holy and mighty God, holy and most merciful Redeemer; God eternal, keep us steadfast in the true faith. Lord, have mercy. Amen.
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