Flitting and fluttering passions

My Confession, Psalm 131

¹ My heart is not proud, LORD,
   my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
   or things too wonderful for me.

Praying this Psalm this morning was a mirror showing me the condition of my heart.  Passions have been swirling around in me clamoring for change.  I have what I still consider God-given ideas and desires.  Passions to help people hungry for spiritual depth, to craft a new church that embraces the ancient symbols and experiences while living in a vibrancy of Pentecost.  I want to see a contemplative and experiential ministry to children and their families out of that church.  I want to minister to kids again.  I want to live in neo-monastic community with others hungry for the same things. All these things swirl around and my haughty eyes see no way that they can be done.  Not here. If these things are indeed from God they come from a depth of mystery.  They are too great for me.  They require patience to unfold in God's wonderful timing.  How I need God's peace to enter the troubled waters of my soul! The rest of Psalm 131 is my need and my goal.

² But I have calmed and quieted myself,
   I am like a weaned child with its mother;
   like a weaned child I am content.

 ³ Israel, put your hope in the LORD
   both now and forevermore.

Brother Leach, this week, told me that these frustrations will never leave.  In ministry there is always something more God is calling us to, stretching us to, stretching our communities to. I need the quieting.  Years ago talking about spiritual formation would send my soul a twitter with excitement.  Looking back at how my masters program in spiritual formation has changed me I see that those fluttering passions have settled into a deep well within me.  I need the same peace about church planting, about the future.

I guess I am still judgmental.

It strikes me today that I used to wonder how any one could be a Christian and a democrat.  Today I wonder how anyone could be a Christian and oppose health coverage for 32 million uninsured.  Lord, save me from my self-righteousness.


(Now I am afraid to allow comments on this post, given the rancor in the comments I have seen on Facebook. Will people honor that this is confessional or will they jump on the politics?  We shall see.)

Breaking the power of the past

Tonight I asked God to examine me. “Search Me, know my heart and thoughts—see if there is any offensive way in me” Then I waited, listened and wrote down what came to mind. Then I prayed through each of them like this:

“Lord, I confess the sin of ___________. I ask you to forgive me for this sin, yielding to it, and the resulting pain that I have caused to others and myself. I renounce the sin of __________ and break its power over my life, the life of my descendants, through the power of the Cross of Jesus. I receive your freedom and grace God in the name of Jesus.“

One of the most meaningful aspects of this process was praying that the power of these sins be broken not only in my life but over my descendants. My desperation for freedom and forgiveness was heightened by the image of Ella and Foster struggling with my sinfulness. As I laid each item at the cross, I did so with authority and desperation, putting myself in Christ’s hands. The shame though, made me doubt my freedom.

As I rested with God and listened for him, I cried out, “Where is the spirit?!” At that moment my body shook. It was as if he was making his presence known. “OK Lord, you are here, what do you have to say?” I replied meekly. The words to Nothing But The Blood began to play in my head. I put the song on through my laptop and soaked in it for a while.

First, I was struck by the line, “Nothing can for sin atone, Nothing but the blood of Jesus.” I was released from lingering thought that I had to earn my freedom, but working hard enough or even feeling hard enough.

The second thing that struck me was the ludicrous line, “How precious is the flow that makes me white as snow.” I was walking around the room and had stopped in front of a mirror at the time. I was struck that Jesus made me white as snow… this face that I was looking at, the soul behind those eyes, white as snow! I started to laugh. It was ridiculous and wonderful. His blood, on that cross that give the power I prayed for to give me freedom, his blood has made me white as snow.

Now I feel grateful to the point of sorrow and hopefully expectant for the freedom that comes from his hand.