Truly, I am a mess. I am forgiven, but I am a mess.
So, here are some of those things...
Sunday, I received the Lord's Supper in the pew, but I was disheartened as to how because the pastor gave me His body and then before I could even chew the host the visitation pastor had His blood to my lips. I wanted to cry out, "Wait!" I wanted to savor His body and reflect upon that gift for at least a moment before taking in His blood. I do not know if that is wrong or selfish. And I know my emotions are such a tangled mess right now. Still, I wish there was a pause a moment to absorb the magnitude of His gift like there is at the rail when you are waiting for the pastor to come around.
Tuesday, I went to a funeral. I went, mostly, hoping to hear the Gospel. I cannot hear it enough. I long to hear it more. And...well...I know that if I were to have a service, not that I think there should be since I am fairly certain just Bettina and her family would be there, it would be a mostly empty church. I went in case the family would want someone in the pew with them as they mourned.
But seeing the family and all those gathered around them was like being a sheep standing on the outside of a whole flock huddled together. Very, very lonely. And I saw something that made me despair of ever finding a place in this parish.
The other two close options have red flags for me. One has a website full of God-is-love seeker friendly stuff. The other seems confessional but does not seem to practice closed communion, has female acolytes and lay assistants, has a contemporary worship service, and has advertising for United Methodist programs in its newsletters. The parish I have been attending is the best option for the proper division of Law and Gospel (the pastor is quite skilled in this), clings to the Symbols, and cherishes the heritage of faith that is the Liturgy. I just don't really seem welcomed there.
For well over a month now, I have been asking for confession/absolution since there are no more open hours. I admit that each week that passes without this is harder than the last. And, right now, all you have to do is mention confession/absolution and I begin weeping.
To be able to sit at the altar and speak of the burden of my sin, to have it lifted and replaced with Words of comfort, and to have the Holy cross traced upon the forehead of one such as I is a great balm to me, a comfort and a bulwark against the assaults I face.
Cousin D is not a Lutheran, not a Christian, not a person who has faith, but he has picked up many a thing from reading my blog, from listening to me. When I started weeping, certain that another week would pass, as it has, with no offer to hear my confession, he asked if he could forgive me. I smiled through my tears as I told him that he is not a called and ordained servant who has been given the Office of the Key and thus in the stead and command of Christ forgives sins. He then tried again. He said that he thought from all that I had written, spoken about, that the important part was that I was repentant of my sin. He is right about that. And I am forgiven. I just struggle so mightily that I crave the comfort of hearing, receiving, and being marked as His.
My vision today is so poor that I am truly frightened. I hate knowing that my eyes do not work because of my brain rather than because I need new glasses. I hate the headache I must bear because while my vision is blurry, my mind keeps trying to see. I find myself squinting and then having to force myself to relax and just see dimly. My vision is poor because work has been brutal...52 hours. We have a mere 4 weeks before our festival. We are not ready. I cannot keep up this pace. And having to turn the other cheek as often as I do has made everything that much more difficult.
Tonight, in our Book of Concord lessoning via Skype, Pastor F and his wife and I spent more time not talking about all things Book of Concord than we did, but what we did discuss was very helpful for me. And he finally made clear the differences of the use of the word Mass between the Augsburg Confession and the Smalcald Articles. Boy was I mired in confusion there.
In a nutshell, the Augsburg Confession was written at a time when the Lutherans were trying to remain reconciled with Rome as they strove to eliminate the things of man that had crept into the Church. The words were sort of like: See, here, all that we have kept...can we not agree on these things we share and will you open your eyes that you may see the danger of the things we have stripped away?"
The Smalcald Articles were really like Luther's last will and testament. At that point reconciliation, a return by Rome back to the faith of our father, was not even a remote possibility. He could not afford to mince words, to wait longer; he wanted to ensure the Truth remained pure.
So, while the Augsburg Confession seemed to be using the word Mass to focus on the Sacrament, in the Smalcald Articles the word Mass excludes the Sacrament, focusing instead on the false claim that it was the meritorious work of the priest during the Lord's Supper that brought forgiveness.
One of the BEST things about Pastor F is that he always takes the time to situate the reading. He'll interrupt just to make sure you understand the whys and wherefores behind the writing of the words. SIGH. Tonight we were on too long for I talked too much. I have to watch that lest I lose this blessed opportunity. It has been too long, too long since my last lessoning.
Pastor F also said something else that I am struggling to swallow. It is about good works. A good work is not about how you are doing what you are doing or how you are feeling as you do it, but about how that work serves another. So, the good works the other person, not you. So, when I rather mulishly resentfully helped my boss when she was ill at the hospital, it was a good work because she was served by God through me. I am going to have to chew on that one for a while.
Pastor W has been reading this devotional book that he quotes a lot. Intrigued, I ordered a copy. Below is the devotion for the Saturday after the Second Sunday After Epiphany (I didn't want to wait for the calendar year to turn round again):
"Lord, if You will, You can make me clean." Matthew 8:2
A leper approached Jesus, He wasn't suppose to do that. he had been quarantined because he was contagious. In the brutal manner of that time, he was expelled from society and shut out from all discourse with healthy people.
But he stood there. He didn't ask to be cured. he left the decision to Jesus. He only pointed out this fact: If you want to, You can.
This is faith. It was this kind of faith Jesus wanted to arouse when He spoke in the synagogues and visited homes. He wanted to open people's eyes. It was something they should see. There was something wonderful to discover, something that would be decisive in their lives. He didn't say it right out. he didn't command them to believe. It was an invitation, a possibility presented to them.
The leper understood this. Here we can see what characterizes faith. We understand from his words that didn't demand, threaten, or insist. He didn't mean: I know You can if You want to. You should be ashamed of Yourself if You don't make me clean. Instead he meant: I realize that I can demand nothing. I don't deserve it. But You, who are so wonderfully righteous and whose heart goes out for wretches like me, perhaps You will perform a miracle on me also.
And Jesus did perform a miracle. "I am willing,' He said. 'Be clean.'" (Matthew 8:3 NIV). He could help where this kind of faith was found.
Tomorrow's reading is about this faith Jesus creates with His Word and with His actions.
Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief!
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