Christ be praised! The second "lost" check for the prescription premium with my insurance company, mailed January 29th has been cashed!! This has been such a weight on my mind, and, thus, I am very, very, very thankful to have this closure. I will not know until the second week of March if the automatic withdrawal is actually, really, and truly set-up, but I have asked them to confirm the withdrawal twice. I am very much looking forward to no longer having to think about or worry about the premium payment.
Amos woke me up when the mailman was outside. Normally, this doesn't happen. I was a tad irritated, got dressed, and went downstairs. I wanted to check the mail, though, because I used the great surge of energy stemming from Dale Earnhardt, Jr.'s Daytona 500 victory to catch up on some overdue correspondence late last night. After searching a third time, I FINALLY found the photos for one package that I had put aside until I got herbs from Becky so that I could mail both together, I made three birthday cards (dweeby ones), wrote three thank you notes, wrote five notecards, and readied two more packages for my trip to the post office once my budget cycles again on the 27th. I still have a few more letters to write, but I wanted to make sure the mailman took all the cards I set out the night before.
When I checked the mail, I saw a certified mail notice for my renter. Thinking of just how far away the microscopic package/mail pick-up place is and how long it took me to find it myself, I raced to my car and went searching the neighborhood for the mailman. You see, this is a real issue of mine. I try to solve problems that are not mine. I worry about things that are not mine to worry about. And often this leads me to being abused by those who take advantage of my striving to please ... not that my renter had any notion of my panic since she is out of town.
Anyway, I found the mailman ... wearing my pajamas, without appropriate female undergarments, with my Breath Right strip still on, and with my sleeping mask perched atop my head. Also ... without my driver's license. I raced back to get my driver's license to prove my address and sign for what turned out to be a letter. Yes, I was not able to get back to sleep after all that discombobulation and shame over my appearance and not trusting that it would have been perfectly okay with Michelle had I left her to fetch her own piece of mail. Absolutely, okay.
This is a great flaw of mine, not that I am trying to be helpful, but that I think if I do not solve problems then I will not be liked or not be found to be a good person. For example, a while ago Marie needed more mason jars. It is far, far easier for her to fetch some, but I volunteered to pick them up, even though I was tired.
This stems from the words I have heard for years from my family about how I am ... selfish, need to be different so folk will like me ... seriously, nothing positive. I've been friends with Becky for nearly two decades and I still marvel that she actually likes me. I wonder at the gift of her friendship, of getting glimpses of how she sees me, for she doesn't see a selfish, unloveable person.
Yet I still try to solve her problems and do things for her ... just to be sure that she will continue to like me. SIGH. It's hard, now, that I cannot do much. And yet she still does so for me.
For example, when Becky was here in August 2012, she bought these glass containers at Bed Bath & Beyond. I had some glass ones that did not close well and hers had these nifty snap closures on all four sides. So, I went back there and bought my own set of containers. As I have written, I use glass now because plastic is porous and food stays fresher in glass. With my fragile digestive system, fresher leftovers are much, much, much better for me.
Well, anyway, later on, I went back and bought a second set of glass containers. The same box. The same place. The same price. Only the two sets are slightly different. The lids for one do not match the lids for the other. I was constantly trying to find the right lid. Flash forward to February 2014 and Becky is visiting again. After mentioning the Great Trial of the Stupid Lids to my best friend, she takes out the containers and the lids and studies them until she is able to show me that the containers with an imprint on the bottom of them are the ones that match the lids that say "glass lock" on them. Eureka! MERCY!!
I tell Becky all the time that I have a far, far, far better best friend than she does.
Everyone should have a Becky in her life.
And a Mary.
And a Celia.
And a Marie.
People who like you just as you are and who shower blessings of mercy upon you.
I think that my Southern breeding and genetic tendency to desire to be a good host and the deeply ingrained picture of what a horrible person I am combine to push me toward sinful people-pleasing behavior instead of merciful serving your neighbor behavior. I long for the freedom of the latter rather the bondage of the former.
Well ... back to charts.
Today was what I can truthfully say was my first official real catechesis lesson. Yes, this has all been backwards ... my becoming a Lutheran. Yes, I have been in anguish over the things in my mind for years. Yes, I wish I had found a way to better communicate my fears, but, as my pastor bluntly said today, the fact that I study and love and know the Book of Concord so much gives an impression that I know what I should know and, thus, shouldn't need instruction. It was only when I felt like I was standing naked in my email to both of them, that they finally understood.
For one, conversations about life are not catechesis. For another, it is rather dangerous to make assumptions about anyone, much less about the teaching a Christian might have had in his/her life prior to joining a church, even in transferring from another Lutheran Church. Plus, frankly, the words might be the same between the mainline evangelical church and the Lutheran church, but the meanings often are not.
Today, we started an examination of the Real Presence in the Lord's Supper.
And there was a chart.
Charts are good.
Very, very, very good.
Study, for me, is invigorating. I am a study junkie. However, proper catechesis, for me, is also hopeful ... literally full of hope. Hope is also invigorating.
Did I really understand yet what we covered today? No, but I copied down the chart and I am confident that my pastor understands what frightens me and what I would like to learn.
There really are no adequate words to describe the first time I read in the Book of Concord that all Christians should be baptized and that baptism saves. For I knew that I was not baptized. I had a made a public confession of faith by a river, announced that I prayed the Jesus prayer. That is not baptism. From that moment on, the terror of knowing I was not baptized nearly consumed me, destroyed me.
What I have known, for a long while, is that I was not properly catechized. I was the smart ex-evangelcial to knew her bible and who read (and still constantly reads ... and adores) the Book of Concord. But what I have learned is that you really cannot teach yourself. And there are some very, very, very important differences in the meaning of words across denominations, such as salvation and sin and baptism.
Today, in the midst of studying something else, I was confronted with what it means to have the Word of God. What it is to deny the Word of God. And if you are denying it ... then do you actually have the Word of God? I have much to think on this. Because whilst I am struggling with the idea, it makes sense. By this I mean, even the demons knew that Jesus was the Son of God, but they did not believe the Word of God, they did not have it.
I am terrified of Saul.
I am terrified of being Saul ... becoming him.
How could he lose faith?
How could he go from being a man of God to being the man the Holy Spirit left?
How could the Word of God not be with him?
For me, the anguish and the fear is not about believing enough but about what is belief. And what is my confession? To be frank, my whole life I have had men tell me what to think and what to do and how to be. I listened to them and obeyed them even when it hurt me and even when it felt or seemed wrong. Especially men in positions of authority. Ones who abused that authority. So, I don't want a pastor to tell me to trust him, I want to be taught without assumptions about what I do and do not know, what I do and do not believe. I want to have a chance to discover what my confession is, what the Bible says and the Confessions say, rather that what someone tells me that they say. I want to be clear about the doctrinal differences and the varying meanings behind the words used. I think that what I believe is important, especially when it comes to membership and admission to the altar.
Specifically, in the case of the Lord's Supper, I struggle to understand how belief plays a role in the Sacrament. I mean, if I am a doubting, struggling, anxious, feeble-faithed person, how does that affect the Sacrament? What does it mean to take it worthily? What is the judgement of the Sacrament? How can Christians, if there is therefore now no condemnation in Christ (Romans 8:1), fall beneath the judgement of the Lord's Supper, take it to their harm? Why do Lutherans not re-baptize folk because the Sacrament is the work of God but treat the Lord's Supper differently? I understand the idea of altar fellowship, the idea of not publicly worshiping with those who are errant in their doctrine or do not believe the Word of God. But I do not understand how the confession of a church determines whether or not the Lord's Supper celebrated is the body and blood of Christ. This knowing that I do not really know or understand an important piece of Lutheran doctrine concerns me.
You know, one of my dirty little secrets is that, unlike pretty much every Lutheran I know, I do not love the Small Catechism. I do not even like the Small Catechism. Yes, I have admitted that before. However, the truth is that I fear the Small Catechism. I am terrified of it.
- To me, the Small Catechism is a collection of Law that I constantly fail, condemning me to unbelief and eternal death.
- To me, the Large Catechism is a wooing of the sweet, sweet Gospel for me, bringing forgiveness, healing, and sustenance.
Take the final question of the Small Catechism with regard to the Lord's Supper:
Who then receives such Sacrament worthily?
Answer: Fasting and bodily preparation is, indeed, a fine outward training. But a person is truly worthy and well prepared who has faith in these words, "Given ... and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins."
But anyone who does not believe these words, or doubts, is unworthy and unfit. For the words "for you" require hearts that truly believe.
[Concordia: The Lutheran Confessions, A Reader’s Edition of the Book of Concord, 1st Edition, © 2005 Concordia Publishing House]
The words "require hearts that truly believe" terrify me. I don't truly believe anything. I have all sorts of doubts and anxiousness about anything that revolves around for me.
As I have written before here and here, I prefer the Large Catechism...
But if you say, "How can I come if I feel that I am not prepared?" Answer, "That is also my cause for hesitation, especially because of the old way under the pope." At that time we tortured ourselves to be so perfectly pure that God could not find the least blemish in us. For this reason we became so timid that we were all instantly thrown into fear and said to ourselves, "Alas! we are unworthy!" Then nature and reason begin to add up our unworthiness in comparison with the great and precious good. Then our good looks like a dark lantern in contrast with the bright sun, or like filth in comparison with precious stones. Because nature and reason see this, they refuse to approach and wait until they are prepared. They wait so long that one week trails into another, and half the year into the other. If you consider how good and pure you are and labor to have no hesitations, you would never approach.
Therefore, we must make a distinction here between people. Those who are lewd and morally loose must be told to stay away. They are not prepared to receive forgiveness of sin, since they do not desire it and do not wish to be godly. But the others, who are not such callous and wicked people, and who desire to be godly, must not absent themselves. This is true even though otherwise they are feeble and full of infirmities. For St. Hilary also has said, “If anyone has not committed sin for which he can rightly be put out of the congregation and be considered no Christian, he ought not to stay away from the Sacrament, let he deprive himself of life.” No one will live so well that he will not have many daily weaknesses in flesh and blood.
Such people must learn that it is the highest art to know that our Sacrament does not depend on our worthiness. We are not baptized because we are worthy and holy. Nor do we go to Confession because we are pure and without sin. On the contrary, we go because we are poor, miserable people. We go exactly because we are unworthy. This is true unless we are talking about someone who desires no grace and Absolution nor intends to change.
But whoever would gladly receive grace and comfort should drive himself and allow no one to frighten him away. Say, "I, indeed, would like to be worthy. But I come, not upon any worthiness, but upon Your Word, because You have commanded it. I come as one who would gladly be Your disciple, no matter what becomes of my worthiness." This is difficult. We always have this obstacle and hindrance to encounter: we look more upon ourselves than upon Christ's Word and lips. For human nature desires to action in such a way that it can stand and rest firmly on itself. Otherwise, it refuses to approach. ~BOC, LC, V, 55-63 [emphasis mine]
I'll even take the Formula of Concord over the Small Catechism:
It must be carefully explained who the unworthy guests of this Supper are. They are those who go to this Sacrament without true repentance and sorrow for their sins, without true faith and the good intention of amending their lives. By their unworthy oral eating of Christ's body, they load themselves with damnation (i.e., with temporal and eternal punishments) and become guilty of profaning Christ's body and blood.
Some Christians have a weak faith and are shy, troubled, and heartily terrified because of the great number of their sins. They think that in their great impurity they are not worthy of this precious treasure and Christ's benefits. They feel their weakness of faith and lament it, and from their hearts desire that they may serve God with stronger, more joyful faith and pure obedience. These are the true worthy guests for whom this highly venerable Sacrament has been especially instituted and appointed. For Christ says:
Come to Me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. (Matthew 11:28)
Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. (Matthew 9:12)
[God's] power is made perfect in weakness. (2 Corinthians 12:9)
As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him; ... for God has welcomed him. (Romans 14:1-3)
Whoever believes in [the Son of God, be it with a strong or with a weak faith] may have eternal life. (John 3:15)
Worthiness does not depend on the greatness or smallness, the weakness or strength of faith. Instead it depends on Christ's merit, which the distressed father of little faith enjoyed as well as Abraham, Paul, and others who have a joyful and strong faith.
~BOC, FSD, VII, 68-71
How in the world do those two passages above match "require hearts that truly believe"? SIGH.
Needless to say, in the catechesis lessons, we are not using the Small Catechism, but rather focusing on the things that I do not know (or the wrong assumptions). With regard to the Sacraments, my pastor began my catechesis by using a chart to discuss the essence of the Sacraments and the benefits of them, as we compared Baptism and the Lord's Supper. That helped me begin to better understand how the confession of a church comes into play with regard to the Real Presence of Christ's Body and Blood in the celebration of the Lord's Supper across denominations.
So, basically, I have much to think about until the next time. I still want to read together more of the Formula Solid Declaration, Article VII, and I want to talk more about what it means to have the Word of God. My homework is to read my parallel Gospel about the institution of the Lord's Supper.
In looking back over what we covered, I realized that I need to take better notes, because I am no longer the student I once was. There are two things the pastor said that I am missing, but long to remember. One had to do with the structure of the epistles. He said that they first start with Jesus and then they follow with ________, something along the lines of the life we have in Jesus, rather than the instructions of how to live life like Jesus. Or maybe something else. I cannot remember.
The second part had to do with passages such as "be anxious in nothing..." The first bit was that it is important to put such verses in their context. And, by context, he meant the entire epistle, instead of just the surrounding verses. So, look at the whole of Philippians when thinking about 4:6. But the second bit was that it is possible to read _______________ (a description for such verses) without hearing them as commands (since they are not meant as commands).
The one thing that I did write down and was so very thankful for today (other than the chart) is my pastor's help with Exodus 34:7 (here with verse 6 also), The LORD passed by in front of him and proclaimed, "The LORD, the LORD God, compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in lovingkindness and truth; who keeps lovingkindess for thousands, who forgives iniquity, transgression and sin; yet He will by no means leave the guilty unpunished, visiting the iniquity of fathers on the children and on the grandchildren to the third and fourth generations."
My family has generations of sins and deep wounds, alcoholism, divorce, drugs, abuse. I often think about that verse and wonder what that means. What surprised me was that my pastor pointed out that God gave the Gospel answer, per se, in the Old Testament, in Ezekiel chapter 18, rather waiting for the New Testament. We read through that chapter and talked about it.
The question arose because my pastor started out by saying telling me it was okay to ask about anything that came up ... and we were just reading a psalm as a way of beginning and ending the lesson with the Noon Prayer service (LSB 296). Sin was in the second verse of the psalm we read (I forget which one [GASP] and sin has been greatly on my mind in myriad ways. So, I asked about Exodus, learned about Ezekiel, and felt a bit of peace before we even began.
So, to stand naked here, to remember part of what I learned today, is to admit that part of the Real Presence that has bothered me is that I have no inclination to bow before the altar. This worries me. Do I believe in the Real Presence? I do not know how to answer that. And it scares me because I have answered "yes" as a part of being brought the Lord's Supper in my home. My pastor suggested I put it another way: Do I believe that it is Christ's body and blood? Yes, I do, because He said it was/is. But why then does the bowing sometimes bother me and why then do I not feel so moved to bow? Why do the ... rather strong ... thoughts expressed about the horror of crumbs falling or wine splashing bother me?
I have been thinking about those things, less wracked with guilt since my pastor said that is is okay that bowing makes me uncomfortable. Instead of thinking myself a failure at reverence, I wonder if part of the bowing at the altar, especially before the words of institution, makes me feel as if that is the only place Jesus is instead of here with me, here with the Word. I also believe that a God who sees me through His son is not a God who will rain judgment/discipline/punishment (and I know none of those words are the same) down on someone who spills Christ's body and blood somehow. I know I am fumbling this, but there are many things about some Lutherans I have met that bother me. I know that it is the me part that is bothering, but I still struggle with it. I struggle with the adoration of icons and fawning over statues of Mary. I struggle with the online charge/admonishment to create a home altar. I struggle with so very much bowing, as opposed to some bowing. I struggle with not having the same feelings as other Lutherans do.
And yet there is not one iota of doubt or a smidgeon of incertitude regarding the benefits of receiving Christ's Body and Blood. I know that I am given forgiveness, healing, peace, and sustenance. I believe in the power and efficacy of the Word joined to the element. I just am not moved to bow. And that worries me. It worries me that I am not reverent and am lacking in faith because when you ask me what I believe, I am not sure and wish only for you to ask me what Jesus said and, therefore, what I know to be true.
Does that make sense?
It's okay if it doesn't.
It's okay because both of my pastors understand and support me in not taking the Lord's Supper until I am ready, not matter how deeply I long for it, because both of my pastors understand and support my longing for proper instruction on things that really and truly do matter.
Charts are good.
Think about the essence and the benefits.
Reflect on what is being proclaimed or denied in the Words/words of the celebration of the Lord's Supper.
And you know what else? My pastor only smiled when I blurted out (whilst ticking off the benefits of the Lord's Supper for him as he wrote them out the chart) that I am torn between which is the best part of the Divine Service: A) hearing the Word of Absolution for me or B) seeing the elevation of Christ's Body and Blood and hearing the declaration of Christ's peace for me. He didn't laugh at me. He merely smiled and said that he like those parts, too. Agreed that those are the good parts.
He said it was a good lesson, that I asked good questions, and that this is a good thing we are doing. And I awarded myself brownie points (i.e., a Dr Pepper) for working hard to keep my questions on point—despite being given carte blanche permission on asking questions—and for greeting with alacrity his proposal to table two questions for later so that we might be orderly in the instruction.
March 10th, Lord willing, is the next lesson.
Do I think that my anxieties and doubts and worries are all going to disappear by the time we are done? Nope. I have a neurological disease that makes such impossible, and, even if that were not the case, I am also a sinner. Do I believe, for the first time, that hope—real, honest-to-goodness-hope in Christ—is possible for me? I do now.
I do now.
Why? I do now because, when I blurted out my terror and despair over three counselors telling me that, because of my past, I am most likely never to be capable of trusting (and even loving), my pastor replied that they were talking about psychological trust and that spiritual trust is not the same. He didn't explain. It was okay that he didn't explain. He will teach me, show me in the Bible, when it is time for that.
Charts are good.
And I have hope.
I am Yours, Lord. Save me!
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