Saturday, March 10, 2018

Year B, Ephesians 2.1-10, John 3.14-21, Wherefore we flee for refuge to Thine infinite mercy. . .


Most holy and merciful God,
we confess to you and to one another,
and before the whole company of heaven,
that we have sinned by our fault,
by our own fault,
by our own most grievous fault, 

in thought, word, and deed,
by what we have done and by what we have left undone.

ALMIGHTY God, our Maker and Redeemer, we poor sinners confess unto Thee, that we are by nature sinful and unclean, and that we have sinned against Thee, by thought, word, and deed.
Wherefore we flee for refuge to Thine infinite mercy, seeking and imploring Thy grace, for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.
“Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.


For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God-- not the result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.

Words which have been at the heart of our confessions.
And words of love and forgiveness.
This is the spiritual journey on which we have embarked.
And apart from this, there is no true spirituality, no genuine human experience, and no knowledge of the depth of God’s grace.
We often live with an illusion.
That illusion is of our own righteousness.
We defend ourselves as good, often afraid to admit otherwise, ashamed, perhaps, of the person we truly are.
As I was growing up, one of the most troubling phrases of all, spoken during our confession of sin, contained the words:  “our secret thoughts and desires which I do not fully understand, but which are fully known unto thee.”
If you had known me at that time, you would have seen a young boy whose behavior was generally commendable, at least my outward actions.
But these words troubled me for I knew that what was going on within me, did not match what appeared to others.
We are our own worst judges.
We judge our insides by other’s outsides.
And we recoil at what we see.
One response to our own self judgment is to deny what we see, and to seek to craft an image of ourselves that is more presentable to the world. 
Underlying this quest to create a public image of ourselves is a question.   “Would you love me, if you truly knew me?”
And the fear is that you wouldn’t.
Secret thoughts and desires. . .
What if people knew?
We shudder at the thought.
“our secret thoughts and desires which I do not fully understand, but which are fully known unto thee.”
God knows, and that is what is frightening.
God knows.
Paul writes in 1 Corinthians:
For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.
A friend of mine in college once related an image of the final judgment.  It began with an understanding that we live much of our lives as though in a deep fog, hidden from one another.  And then on the judgment day, the fog lifts, and everything is exposed in the bright light. 
We stand naked before God.  That is the scary thing.
We cannot hide behind a fig leaf.
We cannot hide at all.
Our human response to this transparency is twofold, shame and guilt.  We are ashamed of who we are, and feel guilty for what we’ve done.
There are moments in life when we are exposed for who we truly are.  These moments when others are given a glimpse of who we really are can be frightening, but not nearly as much as when we look into the mirror and see ourselves.
Sometimes, we simply don’t like what we see.
We’d like to run from the mirror.
I had that experience when I hit rock bottom as an alcoholic.  When I woke up in the morning after my last night of drinking, the first thing I did was to reach for my glasses.
They were a mangled mess, evidence of the fall I had taken the night before.
I rushed to the mirror in the bathroom, and discovered my face was not much better, with scabs on my eye and ear from where I had injured myself. 
And then I began to remember what had transpired.
I wanted to flee.
I consented to going to the hospital that day, and entering the treatment program there, in part because I simply wanted to flee and hide.  I literally did not want to show my face in Sandpoint, and being hospitalized in Coeur d’Alene was one way to avoid that.
I was running from the image in the mirror.
But even though we’d like to run, there is another option:
Wherefore we flee for refuge to Thine infinite mercy, seeking and imploring Thy grace, for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ.
The grace and mercy of God.
Divine intimacy.
To be fully known, and fully loved.
To be entirely exposed, and entirely forgiven.
Most of us understand physical intimacy more than we do spiritual intimacy.
A gentle touch, a hug, or a kiss.  And for many of us, the close intimacy of a spouse, who knows our own body better than we do ourselves.
Physical intimacy we understand.
God knows not only what we have done, and left undone, but the secrets thoughts and desires of our hearts.
And he loves and forgives us.
That is intimacy.
We need not hide, because there is nothing left to hide.

“Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”
Two of the most grace filled experiences I have had, and there have been many, are going to A.A. and engaging in years of therapy with a psychologist.
In A.A. the first thing we learn is that we are not alone.  As ashamed as we maybe, we quickly discover that others have had the same experiences, and that in spite of those experiences, there is hope.
And as I turned over every stone in my life, or at least the greater share of them, seeking out the skeletons in my closet with the counselors I have seen, one of the discoveries of that process is to realize that these things that had caused such deep shame and guilt were simply a common part of the human experience.
There is grace in the word “we”.
we confess to you and to one another,
and before the whole company of heaven,
that we have sinned by our fault,
by our own fault,
by our own most grievous fault, 

in thought, word, and deed,
by what we have done and by what we have left undone.
We are not alone.
And in the abundant mercy of God, “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.
We are not alone in our sinfulness, nor in the forgiveness God offers to us.
There is no sin you have ever committed, that is not common to many others.
And the forgiveness God offers to you, freely, as a gift, is the same forgiveness he offers to all.
Intimacy.
To be fully known by God, yet even more fully loved.
Can we grasp that?
This intimacy is almost too much for us to understand and embrace.
Polite discretion is more our way of living.  There are things you do not know about me, and quite frankly, things you do not want to know about me.  “TMI” is the rule of the day.  “Too Much Information”.
The unwritten rule of polite society is that discretion ought to be practiced.  Those “secret thoughts and desires that I do not fully understand” are best kept to myself. 
That is one of the reasons we will never experience the type of intimacy God envisions for us with each other.  We simply don’t want to know each other that well.  It’s too much work.
And perhaps we fear that the other does not have the capacity for grace and mercy that God does.
If my wife knew my secret thoughts and desires would she still love me?  Is she that gracious and merciful?
What about my children?
Or you?
I don’t know the answer to those questions.
But what God assures us is that he will still love us.
In fact, it is precisely because he knew us fully, that he sent his Son to save us. 
Intimacy.  To be fully known, and more fully loved.
That is grace.  And it is a gift of God for you.
Amen


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