Reading the Book of Concord...

I recently noted to someone that I realized in re-reading books I own, I will choose ones or entire series for a certain effect or experience I know I will have in the reading. When sad I might choose one story, when lonely another. When I am feeling weak, I often choose stories with heroines who struggle with their own doubts and flaws and yet still make the journey, face the battle, before them. And I realized that with many of the books I have I savor them for the relationships, primarily relationships where struggling or difficult people are accepted and forgiven of their flaws and foibles and sin.

So it is also, for me, with the Book of Concord. I have go-to spots as dear to me as the go-to Psalms in my beloved Psalter. I have places in our Confessions where I know I will find comfort in my anguish or bolstering in my doubt. I have places where I will find freedom in being reminded that I am a sinner, that my faith, my works, will never be enough, will never be sufficient. I have places where I will be reminded that just as I cannot fathom God's love for me, neither can I grasp just how implacable and relentless and wily is my foe.

There are more places for me...just as there are for you. That's really the wonder of the Psalter, that within this wondrous collection of prayers lies every facet of our existence, every thought and feeling, every experience and desire. So it is with the Book of Concord, with the pure doctrine. I think this is because the whole of Scriptures is Jesus come for us. And the whole of our Confessions is Jesus come for us. Some of it is teaching what we believe. Some of it is refuting what others falsely teach. Some is simple and soft. Some is strident and fierce. And some is deep and dense. For every Christian, for every heart, for every mind.

So, here's one of those places:

In order to retain the Gospel among people, He openly sets the confession of saints against the kingdom of the devil, and in our weakness, declares His power. [AP, V (III), 68]

This makes me dance (and I have two left feet--people pay me not to dance). It is absurd! It is wonderful! It is humbling! The world will never understand, will never see the beauty in this single sentence.

And it drives me to Job, to the wonder of that bit of revelation of our Father and His love for us. I might be the only one who finds God's...tongue lashing...of Job 38-42:6 to be the very picture of a loving father, but I do. God could have stopped at 40:5. But He didn't; to me, it seems He wanted Job to learn, to understand, to see just how loved he was.  For His God, such a fierce and wise and powerful God, chose him. As Isaiah tells us, called him by name.

God could have stopped in the garden, but He didn't. Jesus could have stopped in the garden, but He didn't. Why would a God who commands every mote of creation bother with such wretched sinners?  Why would He send His only son to suffer more than any single person, more than all of them together? Because He loves us. And His love defeated death. His love defeated the devil's kingdom...because we needed it.

All that in a single sentence...at least it is for me. I find the entire Bible, the whole of it in a single sentence. And I dance for joy. The world will never understand. For that matter, neither will I, fully. Yet it remains true.

When I feel so absolutely beleaguered, bloody and beaten by our foe, I think of that single sentence. Seriously, it must just stick in the devil's craw, make his innards twist and writhe. I get to dance and the devil gets humiliated.

Some of my places are a single sentence. Some are an entire section. Ah, man, do I love the Christian Book of Concord!

Lord I believe, help my unbelief!