I went to the LCMS church’s Ash Wednesday service. Some items, including some rambling ones:
A. The pastor said that people generally do not get rid of grief.
Rather, they find some place to put it. I personally find this to be the
case with resentment and bitterness. Some days, it is on the surface of
my heart. Some days, it is not. But it is still there somewhere.
B. The pastor said that we can be honest before God and invite God
into the broken places of our hearts, and God will heal them with God’s
love. I used to do my share of personal imprecatory Psalms, of pouring
out my heart before God. It was cathartic. Now, I do not do so as much.
It just takes a lot of energy. The same goes for my blogging: I no
longer write those honest, gut-wrenching posts that I used to write.
Nowadays, I simply try to cope, and I ask God to help me not to allow
any negative emotions I have to spill out onto others. I also follow a
predictable pattern of prayer, calmly following the ACTS paradigm and
praying for my own needs and the needs of others. Would such a method of
prayer help me were a major crisis to hit my life? Well, it would be
something reliable to fall back on: rain or shine, I can fallow that
paradigm, letting it carry me.
C. The pastor talked about God using brokenness to break up hard
hearts, making them fertile ground. Negative experiences can also harden
people’s hearts, though. But, yes, they can also engender compassion.
D. The pastor’s text was Joel 2:12-19. The nation was having a
revival, as people fasted and wept before God. The prophet exhorted them
to rend their hearts, not their garments. But, after the ritual, they
would put on their whole garments again and go about their daily
business. I have thought some about these issues lately. I do a “Church
of James Pate’s Brain” at nights, in which I preach to myself a sermon
to help me fall asleep. Over the past few months, I have been doing
those sermons on my daily walks. I have done series on the Lord’s
Prayer, the Ten Commandments, and the fruit of the Spirit; currently, I
am doing a series on the Sermon on the Mount. I went through “Blessed
are the poor in Spirit” and “Blessed are those who mourn.” There are
many people—-probably the vast majority of people—-who are broken in
some way by life: disappointments, disease, alienation, or loss of a
loved one. Of course, mainstream conservative Christianity would deny
that all of them are saved, since not all of them have placed faith in
Christ as their personal Savior. Are they thus lacking in the blessing
that Jesus pronounces on the poor in Spirit and the mourners? A number
of Christians apply these first two beatitudes to contrition about sin,
which leads to repentance and faith in Christ. But what if one simply
does not feel that? Granted, there are places in Scripture in which God
tries to get people to see the magnitude of their sin, from God’s
perspective: to see why it is horrible, how it hurts others, how it is
betrayal of the God who has done so much good for them. But what if the
feelings of contrition are not there? And can God command people to rend
their hearts and not their garments? Can people control what they feel?
Well, hopefully going through the ritual of humility and mourning will
help them to internalize that humility and mourning, but it does not
always.
E. The pastor said that many Christians try to put on their Sunday
best before God and other Christians. Whether I do that with God, that
is a good question. I am sure that I rationalize to try to convince
myself that I am righteous. But, a lot of times, the crap inside of me
is so apparent that I cannot do that. I have to be myself before God.
The thing is, that easily falls into resentment against God,
specifically God’s standards. On putting on my Sunday best before
others, I consider that practicing social skills. People talk about how
they love for others to be honest and vulnerable, but that is not
necessarily the case. My rule nowadays is to go along and to get along. I
do not want to be an emotional mess before other people. I am
specifically hesitant to be myself before Christians, who may judge me
for feeling this, or believing that, or not believing that, or not
behaving this way.
F. The pastor told a story about a Lutheran school in which the
teacher was saving a banana for a student. Another student ate half of
it and tried to cover up what he did by stapling the banana back
together. The pastor likened that to how many people try to deal with
their sin problem.
More can be said, but I will stop here.