Forgive me, I can't see you...

Oh how I have longed to blog for quite some time now. So much has been going on with me. God has been masterfully at work on me in the last month. Through a series of unfortunate events I have been turned down for the second round of internship site finding. I'm sort of on round three now. I had to put off any work on it last week to work on memorizing the small catechism and reading a book and writing a paper for pastoral care. Needless to say, I did essentially no work this weekend and tried to rest. Peace finally came late Sunday morning as I sat on the bank of a lake watching creation squawk, flip, swim and sing about God's providence (talk about listening to the creatures waiting--heh heh heh). I was reading for worship class and it happened to be about preaching. As I sat there I thought about why I still felt so awful having heard the gospel ever so directly last Friday and just a few hours earlier. What was going on? Why couldn't God's Word reach me deeply like it had before? What wasn't I doing that I should be?

Naturally when one reads about Luther, one encounters discourse about the Roman church (hierarchy, structure and tradition are necessary to mediate the gospel) and the Enthusiasts (those who seek direct contact with the Spirit without the mediation of Jesus; God within-ism). It was in this section I read "God bridges the chasm...for people cannot appropriate the works of God by their own reason and strength." And later on, "God himself imparts the benefits of his redemptive work through the Holy Spirit." Finally the clincher, "As the Word bears Christ, so the Word bears us to him who has vanquished death, sin and the devil" (Luther's Works vol. 17, pg. 234).

What was I trying to do? To reach God and become a pleasing sacrifice to him. Yet God does not delight in burnt offerings, but a broken spirit and a contrite heart (Psalm 51). Certainly my heart was broken. So the problem? Me. I was getting in my own way. But I didn't realize it until I was sitting on the edge of the lake. I never want to be the problem. I never want to die to myself and be put out of the way because it hurts my pride and my self-will. What did I really need to do? What David did: confess and ask for forgiveness. In a way I was guilty (if you want to identify and call it that) for acting contrary to God's will. The bigger issue was my lack of trust in Christ's words about me. I had been listening to what me and everyone else was saying about me except what Jesus had to say about me. Yet my hands were bound and tied. I couldn't hear what Jesus had to say because I was so busy staring at myself and my disbelief.

Where's the irony? Friday after class I confessed because I knew it wouldn't be long before the storm looming on the horizon arrived and poured down upon me. So when the storm came and I finally pinpointed my confession at the edge of the lake, I basked in and reveled in the absolution which had already been given to me two days earlier. What was the absolution you ask? Christ removing, stealing from me all the things which I had made myself responsible for which were not mine to worry or care about nor was I able to carry or bear them. The cross had become ever so heavy and crushing. Yet it was not my cross to bear for Christ had already borne it and conquered over it. He never intended me to carry it in the first place. I am only to be about loving him, trusting him, giving his Word to others and sharing his love with them. This is why his yoke is easy and his burden is light.