I lay about in bed until mid afternoon, lost two games of Scrabble to the brilliant Bettina, went to church, came home and did a few chores, and then collapsed in exhaustion on the couch.  I am a wuss.

What I did accomplish was: completing the first bit of my Greek homework for this week; bringing the laundry to the basement and sorting it; brewing tea enough for the next few days; straightening out a kitchen cabinet; and cutting just enough hanging branches of the wisteria so I could put the edger back into the shed (it's been sitting in my kitchen for a week).  I am studiously ignoring the water upon the basement floor, hoping it just evaporates.  I simply do not have the energy for the labor required to clean it up.  I left my snow boots at the bottom of the stairs for wading through it to get to the washing machine.  I did, however, put the sodden rugs out to hang on the deck railing.

The service was Vespers, rather than Evening Prayer.  I think I prefer Evening Prayer, but I am not sure.  Vespers is rather beautiful, but it is over in a mere breath.  You know me, I long for service to last longer, to be bathed in the Living Word through Liturgy, hymnody, and homily far more than a mere half-hour.  Pastor E taught on Psalm 43, an even briefer homily than last week, but still a glorious bit of Word.  Three things stayed with my cheese hole brain:

• Oh send out Thy light and Thy truth, let them lead me; Let them bring me to Thy holy hill, and to Thy dwelling place (verse 3).  Wow, how could I have missed this?  The light of the world, Christ, and the truth of the Living Word are to guide us to where He dwells, i.e., that is they are to drive us to the Church, to the Divine Service where He dwells with us and serves us.  [Papa Dore must be thinking I am rather dunce right now; this verse is exactly what he's been speaking to me like a broken record.]
• Then I will go to the altar of God, to God my exceeding joy (verse 4a).  The altar is referencing the Old Testament altar where people went to offer sacrifices.  Pastor E pointed out that when we approach the altar now, we are going to receive a sacrifice, not offer one, because the only sacrifice that will ever be acceptable to God, pleasing in aroma and in purity, is Christ crucified.  In taking in His very body and blood, we are receiving that sacrifice...which is, as Forde, Kleinig, Walther, and Luther have noted, how we are made righteous, not by works, not by giving anything at all, but by receiving a gift.
• The antiphon (I still do not understand what this means) Pastor E chose was Why are you in despair, O my soul?  And why are you disturbed within me?  Hope in God, for I shall again praise Him, the help of my countenance and my God (verse 5).  Is that the epitome of a Myrtle verse or what?  For I talk to myself all the time and this is the conversation, the answer, I ought to have with myself each and every time I ask that question!

I found myself forgoing both Forde and Walther this evening in favor of Luther.  The bit below is on verse 4 of the first chapter of Galatians (who gave Himself for our sins).  I find it rather humbling, that the Holy Spirit gives me such riches in just the right time for me.  Put together Forde's analogy of being an addict, helpless to fight or to cure, with Pastor E's reminder of what I receive at the alter, add in the 9th of the 101 things Christ does for us listed below, and sprinkle it all with the sufficiency of Christ Luther exhorts here in this excerpt:

The genius of Christianity takes the words of Paul "who gave himself for our sins" as true and efficacious. We are not to look upon our sins as insignificant trifles. On the other hand, we are not to regard them as so terrible that we must despair. Learn to believe that Christ was given, not for picayune and imaginary transgressions, but for mountainous sins; not for one or two, but for all; not for sins that can be discarded, but for sins that are stubbornly ingrained.

Practice this knowledge and fortify yourself against despair, particularly in the last hour, when the memory of past sins assails the conscience. Say with confidence: "Christ, the Son of God, was given not for the righteous, but for sinners. If I had no sin I should not need Christ. No, Satan, you cannot delude me into thinking I am holy. The truth is, I am all sin. My sins are not imaginary transgressions, but sins against the first table, unbelief, doubt, despair, contempt, hatred, ignorance of God, ingratitude towards Him, misuse of His name, neglect of His Word, etc.; and sins against the second table, dishonor of parents, disobedience of government, coveting of another's possessions, etc. Granted that I have not committed murder, adultery, theft, and similar sins in deed, nevertheless I have committed them in the heart, and therefore I am a transgressor of all the commandments of God.

"Because my transgressions are multiplied and my own efforts at self-justification rather a hindrance than a furtherance, therefore Christ the Son of God gave Himself into death for my sins." To believe this is to have eternal life.

Let us equip ourselves against the accusations of Satan with this and similar passages of Holy Scripture. If he says, "Thou shalt be damned," you tell him: "No, for I fly to Christ who gave Himself for my sins. In accusing me of being a damnable sinner, you are cutting your own throat, Satan. You are reminding me of God's fatherly goodness toward me, that He so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. In calling me a sinner, Satan, you really comfort me above measure." With such heavenly cunning we are to meet the devil's craft and put from us the memory of sin. 

I revel in, each and every time I read Luther, his honesty and transparency.   He calls a spade a spade, but does not leave you either hopeless or helpless.  By the former, I mean that he always gives you Christ (obviously where Papa Dore learned that one; this morning he gave me Psalm 34 and Romans 8:18-34), always.  As I have mentioned, Pastor W says that Luther will wrap you up in Christ more ways than you thought possible.  That's the hope.  He is our hope.  But Luther also does not leave you helpless, as well.  Now, he does not give you five steps to become this or six ways to accomplish that, futile footle that gains you nothing.  But, rather, he does gives you Words to speak to the devil.  He charges you never to forget that wily enemy, but goes a step further by giving you the Words to speak that will strip that enemy bare, render him powerless even as you are helpless yourself.  In this, perhaps it is best to say that Luther teaches us how it is that we might fix our eyes upon Jesus, the Author and Perfector of our faith.

For one who talks to herself quite often of late, trying to get through each day, Luther's help is most welcome and nothing less than priceless. 

He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; 
by his wounds you have been healed.  ~I Peter 2:24

9.  JESUS HEALS US OF THE SICKNESS OF SIN.

Not everyone has experienced a long-term physical illness—waiting for test results, living with questions about what the days ahead will bring, wondering if the physical discomfort will ever go away.  But we all have suffered from a spiritual illness.  We have all known the sickness of sin.

When Jesus steps into our lives, darkness gives ways to light, our hardened hearts becoming softer.  We're filled with the joy of knowing God and the desire to please Him.  And as the chocking grip of sin begins to slip away, we are empowered and enabled to live right with God.

Lutheran doctrine note:  Remember Forde...living right with God is to be a receiver of the gift of Christ's atoning sacrifice for us, not doing something to build your "relationship" with Him.


Lord, I believe.  Help my unbelief!