The consolation of the sweet, sweet Gospel...

So, well, I tried to buy another copy of the NASB 1977 for my pastor to have on hand for catechesis ... you know ... if I can gird my loins enough to keep banging my head against the brick wall.  I actually found a Holman single column version and was ecstatic.  Not only would we be reading the same translation, but we could be on the same page in the same place.  Perfect, eh?  Yes, well, this is how it arrived:

I cannot give my pastor a second broken Bible.  And WHAT IN THE WORLD am I supposed to do with another Bible that needs proper disposal???

I honestly think that my foe simply doesn't want me to be instructed or at the Lord's Supper or be in church or free from terror and shame and guilt.  But, really, don't you think a Bible getting destroyed in a padded envelope is somehow just going a step too far?  A NASB 1977 Bible??  A single column version of the NASB 1977 Bible???

Speaking of the single column format.  Apparently, you can get quite a few translations of the Bible in a single column format.  In fact, the publishers of the English Standard Version (ESV) offer a single column format that is a journaling Bible.  It has ruled lines down the side of every page for notes.  I half think that is incredibly cool and half think that is breaking some reverence rule out there for Bible publication.  The point is, however, that anyone can enjoy ... savor ... delve into the Scriptures via a single column format.  Heretofore, I thought only lovers of the NASB 1977 could do that and only in the Holman publication.

Speaking of format in general, my friend Mary, the Gospel Giver and Myrtle Speak Whisperer, came across a book and sent it to me.

I didn't really have a chance to talk with her about receiving it until yesterday.  Children milling about her feet, Mary took the time to serve her anxious, terrified neighbor Myrtle.  I found it rather interesting that she said she found the format inspiring.  When I saw it, I immediately longed for exactly what Mary suggested to me.  Seriously, the desire of my heart God knew and had Mary give to me.

17

THE UNWORTHY USE OF THE HOLY SUPPER

TEMPTED.  I confess that the godly are made partakers of these benefits of Christ by their true and salutary use of the Holy Supper.  It troubles me not a little, however, that the Apostle Paul states that whoever eats the bread and drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord (I Cor 11:27).  I fear, therefore, that I approach that heavenly banquet as an unworthy guest.

COMFORTER.  By acknowledging and lamenting your unworthiness, you will avoid the stain of being an unworthy guest.  The Apostle does not call those who are weak in faith unworthy.  Indeed, the Sacrament was instituted for the encouragement of faith and the comforting of the weak.  The unworthy are those who do not examine themselves nor discern the Lord's body (I Cor 11:28-29).  That is to say, those who, without true repentance and living faith, without a hatred of sin and an earnest intention to improve their lives, receive the Holy Supper as if it were ordinary food, who make no distinction between this heavenly banquet and any other common meal, and who fail to acknowledge its true excellence and to approach it with an appropriate preparation of the heart.  Such unworthy guests as this banquet sin no less by their unworthy eating and drinking of the body and blood of Christ than the Jews did by crucifying Christ  Let it be far removed from your piety, far removed, I say, that you would be reckoned among them.  Indeed, you confess the filth of your sins, you deplore the foulness of your nature, and you sigh to Christ the Physician of your soul that He would prepare Himself a worthy habitation in your heart.  You weigh carefully the greatness of those things that are present and offered in the Holy Supper, and you closely consider the importance of this heavenly gift.  You hunger and thirst after righteousness, and therefore shall be satisfied (Matt 5:6), for the sins that do not please you will not harm you.

Hasten to the Heavenly Father with tears, weep for your sins, and long to satisfy the hunger of your soul with this heavenly food.  Do no doubt that the most kind Father will run to meet you, kiss you, and embrace you with joy.  He will give you the best robe of innocence, He will clothe you with the garment of salvation, He will put a ring on your hand, He will seal you with the Holy Spirit, He will place shoes on your feet, He will guide you in the way of peace and righteousness, He will fill you with the flesh of that victim who was sacrificed on the altar of the Cross and was offered as a sweet odor to Him (Luke 15:20-23).  Therefore, put aside all fear of eating in an unworthy manner. He who is most unworthy in his own eyes is accepted before God.  He who displeases himself pleases God.  He who crushes himself by a true contrition of the heart is raised up again by the most kind hand of God.

Wow.

My.

That hurts.  

That hurts the way it hurts to look at Jesus on that great big thingy up at the front of my church. For I long for Jesus to be all those things for me, in spite of me.

Well, Myrtle, why are you not jumping up and down in joy of those words? 

Because they scare me.

Why?

When I read the Christian Book of Concord, I find in it such lovely consolation, such comfort for my terrified soul.  I do so, as I have written, because the Confessions talk often about folk just like me.  They talk freely about the anxious and terrified soul and present them as the very reason for the Gospel.  It troubles me not a little, however, that others do not seem to read the same things I do in the Confessions.  That I am ... odd ... in turning to them daily.  I fear that the truth is that I am only reading into them what I want them to say rather than what they actually do say.

The same here.

I am worried that the comfort of the Gospel given above, seemingly written so very, very, very clearly  for Myrtle are not actually for me.  That I do not meet the qualifications that leap up off the page and begin to assail me with doubts, trapping in the cage even though the door is wide open.

Am I discerning the body and blood of Christ?  I fear that I am not.

Am I truly repentant?  I fear that I am not.

Do I have a living faith?  I fear that I do not.

Am I approaching the Lord's Supper with an appropriate preparation of the heart?  I fear that I am not.

SIGH.

But then there are those parts that do not assail, that soothe and console me:

I confess my sins because they are ever before me.

I absolutely deplore the foulness of my nature.

I do long for Christ to prepare the habitation of my heart.

I do weigh the gifts of the Sacrament.

I do know their importance.

I do hunger and thirst after righteousness.

The sins that do not please you will not harm you.  WOW.  Really???

He who is most unworthy in his own eyes is accepted before God.  Could that possibly be true?

He who displeases himself pleases God.  Tell me, quick! Is this true?

He who crushes himself by a true contrition of the heart is raised up again by the most kind hand of God.  Oh, Lord God, please let this be true!

It seems to me that Johann Gerhard read in the Confessions the same things I do.  It seems to me that he believed the Gospel offers very real consolation to the anxious and the terrified soul.  That the consolation of the sweet, sweet Gospel is not merely an adjective (consoling Gospel), but a verb ... an active, powerful, and transformative verb.  Am I right?

What desire of my heart did God speak for Mary?  Well, in a very gently, very careful way, Mary observed that oft when I pour out my fears to her there are so very many things to which she could respond, but she finds herself really only speaking to whatever came last.  She ask me if I liked the format.  I refrained from screaming "Yes!"  She asked me if I thought it would be helpful for us to use that format.  I refrained from screaming "Yes!"  She asked me if I thought I could write out a few specific fears, to which she could write a consolation.  I refrained from screaming "Yes!"  This way, she noted, we could build a book of consolation just for me.  Who but the Holy Spirit could cause her to speak those very words to me??

What is my fear about this?  That I did not actually speak to Mary on the phone and that she did not actually offer such mercy.  I merely longed for it so deeply that I imagined it to be true.

Something additional about that passage from Handbook of Consolations: for the Fears and Trials That Oppress Us in the Struggle with Death.  Until I read consolation no. 17, I never thought about hungering and thirsting for righteousness from a place of anxiety and anguish, from fear and terror before.  Instead, I always thought that meant you had this great faith and, thus, exuded a hunger and thirst for righteousness stemming from that certitude ... not doubt, not despair.  But, after reading consolation no. 17, I read that verse more as saying that you are so hungry and thirsty for righteousness because you know how very wretchedly sinful and foul in nature you are.  You need that righteousness to live.  Could that possibly be true?

Lord, I believe.  Help my unbelief!