Krissi

Ultimately, by not forgiving someone I take my eyes off Christ to focus on that person. One of the things I am learning, now, is to pray because I love the Lord, not because I need something; to seek His face, not His hand. This applies to human relationships as well. If I harbour anger and unforgiveness toward someone – even if my anger is justified! – I’m just not looking to God but wallowing in my own hurt. God has to come inside of me to help me forgive – it’s part of the process of sanctification. I like what Pickledlilly wrote “… forgiveness is about restoration. Release the responsibility of bringing the person to repentance and working our restoration to God. (God) is the expert and the only one qualified to accomplish this … (however) it is your responsibility to develop the forgiving attitude that will be gracious.” I have been struggling to forgive a sibling. She was definitely in the wrong and hurt me deeply without realizing or acknowledging her complicity. We haven’t spoken to each other for many years. I feel this situation will soon change, however, and am praying for the spiritual maturity to handle it graciously. A big part of me does not want to forgive her but rather to ignore her and have the problem of her disappear! But I WILL forgive because God wants me to be restored to Him. I am choosing to forgive. She’s only a conduit or prompt of His work in my life. "Lord, I want my sin to be forgiven – the sin of unforgiveness. I don’t want this sin simmering in the background any longer. Father, forgive me for not forgiving her. Help me grow spiritually past this. See my desire to make amends. Help me leave the consequences to you as well as trust You to judge and vindicate. I love and thank you for releasing me from this sin. Amen."

I find these concepts difficult, admittedly. The "right" that Adam represents all humankind originated in his position in Eden. He had been the first man, fashioned and created by God Himself -- Eve was derivative, btw. Adam had had perfect communion with God as the Spirit surrounded and maintained him. Thus, when Adam fell, the circumstances or scenario around and in him instantly changed. God had been content with just one human being, Adam. There were no children born to the first couple before they sinned, so Adam was the one and only man directly created by God. There were no other humans. Society wasn't part of God's original plan, His perfect plan. God had only wanted two humans, Adam and Eve. Only after Adam sinned, did they have children, "were fruitful and multiplied." Now, 1 Corinthians (somewhere) says that sin is inherited from parents to children which means the sin of Adam was passed on to his children as if it were genetically inherited. Paralleling this, in the Bible, is the corrective story of Christ. Christ, like Adam, was the first of His kind. As Adam was sinful, Christ was sinless. As Adam's sin was passed down to his children, Christ's sinlessness is imputed to those who believe in Him. As Adam "re-presents" sin within us, Christ gives us His perfect Spirit who helps us not sin. Because Christ was sinless, He negated Adam's sin through His blood sacrifice on the cross. --- This is hard stuff! I'm not at all sure I understand this. Sorry.

I have never been advised or told to do anything that I would need to obey by a pastor. Of course, in sermons, a pastor can admonish the congregation to behave or believe in a certain way, which I try to obey, but I have never heard anything in a pulpit that I didn’t know or wouldn’t have already agreed with. So where is the opportunity to obey? I’m sorry, but pastors and elder boards/vestries are simply not willing to direct the lives of those who go to their churches. Most pastors seem to feel no responsibility to know or be responsible for their sheep. I’ve never seen church discipline, though have heard of it, and certainly have known people, including the pastor and church elders, whose behaviour has been less than desirable. Outside of Pastor Ralph, who sadly is not my pastor, I have never met anyone who describes himself as a “servant leader.” Thus, obedience, for me, is completely internal. I obey the commandments the best I can. I obey the moral advice and dictates of scripture. My relationship to God is vertical thus my obedience to what I believe is His will comes directly from Him without intermediaries or influence from the church or other people. I exist in solitude. I have never challenged a pastor or the church leaders, but, frankly, they just don’t factor into my life at this point. I suppose people like me – I’m essentially a hermit caring for a very old man who cannot be left alone – destroy church unity by being outside the church’s scope of influence. It’s not my disobedience but my isolation that negates unity. Just a tiny point of light shining by itself ...

Yes, there can be sin without the law. After the angels fell – Satan and his demons – sin existed in the heavenlies. The earth had not yet been created but sin was already present. There was a time, however, prior to Satan’s fall, where there was no sin and, I believe, in the end, there will not be sin again. Post-creation, it is my understanding that the fall of Adam involved more than just the sins of individuals, but included a distortion in nature herself, a perversion of public institutions particularly the governments and a disordering of all social relationships. Of course, Adam’s fall severed, though not completely, a person from God because of sin. Though we could not approach God as sinners, there remained a residue of our created goodness in the world as well as in ourselves, which made possible the desire to know and love God. The Mosaic law is like a giant flashlight that illuminated and focused on human sin so it could not be ignored or forgotten. Thus, when focused on like this, sin appears to increase; the law constantly refers to it. As Sadiejee puts it, “the law brings sin to the surface.”

This question is loaded! The assumption is that good leadership hovers somewhere between authoritarianism and libertarianism. While this may be true, there's much more to good leadership than finding the happy middle. I just skimmed most of the responses. One of the posters mentioned Jesus' statement that the first shall be last and the last first. The concept behind this is "servanthood." A good leaders is humble and puts the needs of those being led above his own needs. In other words, a good leader is first a servant and then a leader. One becomes a leader through serving. Paul's phrase "to Lord it over" is an example of NOT being a servant first. Similarly, not assuming leadership but remaining only a servant is an example of not willingly maturing in Christ. The dangers of both libertarianism and authoritarianism has to do with not understanding the role of the servant, that it's neither self-belittlement nor self-promotion at the expense of those to whom one is called to lead.

All relationships are, in essence, hierarchical -- one person is stronger in a particular area or manner than the other. For this reason, men are over women in marriage, not oppressively, but as Christ is to the church. He acts as a proxy for all the members of the family. He provides "cover" for everyone in it. It is quite possible, and even encouraged by the dominant secular culture, to usurp the role of the father. Certain forms of feminism will do this as well as rebellious children. When this happens, the myth of egalitarianism raises it's ugly head. In the Godhead, the Father, son and spirit are co-equal, but there is clearly a hierarchy as well. The Father sends the son to die ... the son sends the Spirit into the church at Pentecost. We are tied to each other, then, when we are in right relation to each other. We sever the ties when we usurp the God-given hierarchical roles that God has provided.

I admire this man's sure faith! ---- The verse about the Spirit follows the verses about the dependability of God's promises. The presence of the Spirit, then, may be connected to the idea that God's promises are guaranteed to us because of the Spirit's presence in our hearts. Without the Spirit, God's promises would fall on deaf ears. The fact that I have been anointed by God and His ownership of me is a sealed document GUARANTEES what is to come, which is not only eternal life (which is enough), but in this life, the guarantee that God will answer my plea to have Him honor His promises. Future blessing may refer to heaven OR it may refer to the fulfilment of the claimed promises.

I don't want Jesus' death on the cross to be a mere abstraction in my spiritual life. I want to feel and intuit, in my Spirit, what the cross really means. My sin -- my behavior and thought, my character -- is so offensive to God that He rejected me. He pushed me away because His holiness was repelled by my disgustingness. God wants to be reconciled with me. He wants me not as I am, but as I am in Christ. Justification is the idea of paying up a debt or making right a wrong. It's not so much about God-reaching toward me as much as it is about making it possible for God to do so. So, Jesus paid my debt. It cost him dearly to pay the debt. He willingly did it, but it caused Him to be brutalized and to die. But now my debt is paid. I am justified before God. We are reconciled. Justification precedes reconciliation. This is the necessary order. First Christ has to die to pay my sins, which justifies me ... then, I can be reconciled to God. The debt has to be paid first. As in all broken relationships, reconciliation must occur before trust can be established. There's a one-timeness to reconciliation as well as it's continuing impact. I am still being saved by Jesus’ self-sacrifice on the cross because I still sin. When I repent for sin, His act on the cross erases it. Every one of my sins must be paid for, both known and unknown. Jesus’ long-ago death accomplished this. His life, death and resurrection continues to justify me before God. Our relationship is being re-restored instantaneously by that which has already happened on the cross. The greatest evil in the world was the death of an innocent man on the cross, not just a man, but a man-God whose death redeemed all humanity. God brought good out of this evil. Those of us who are in the depth of despair and suffering -- I am -- cling to verses such as this: "Though he slay me, yet will I trust Him." Everything and everyone are mere instruments in the hand of God. God can bring good out of evil. He is sovereign so He can bring good out of all the evil done to those who believe in Him. He turned injustice into good. He turned tragedy into good. It is rather easy to believe that God has the ability to bring good out of evil. He is sovereign, after all. As with the Joseph story, what others intended for evil, God meant for good. Yet, I find it difficult to believe that God will choose to do this for me. I want to believe -- so badly! -- that God will turn my circumstances into ones that lead to good, but I don't see any evidence of this and it's been many years. Still, I hope. I trust, though incompletely. I pray, sometimes fervently, sometimes half-heartedly. I believe God can turn evil into good. With the faith of a mustard seed, I know that God will make good out of the very evil current circumstances of my life.

Intercessory prayer has two components: 1) when we ask for prayer for ourselves, and 2) when we pray for others. Praying for others can occur without them knowing we're praying for them, or after they request prayer. Regarding asking for prayer for ourselves: I do not think we should ask for intercessory prayer for ourselves because it makes us feel good to be emotionally supported by a gaggle of friends. Instead, we should ask for intercessory prayer because we believe God hears these prayers and will answer them. I’m unsure if there’s "strength in numbers", as Pastor Ralph implied, but there may be. I am certain that select people seem to have a more direct line to God and that their prayers are answered when I'm in a crisis or need to hear God's voice more clearly. I do think, however, that when we’re in the midst of a debilitating crisis and unable to believe God will deliver us, that the prayers of others can hold us up until we’re strong enough to believe our own one-on-one prayer with God will be efficacious. I must admit I’m a bit confused by the need for intercessory prayer … for ourselves. We can pray alone to God without others. God answers these prayers. He is in our hearts … within us the Spirit resides. That spirit groans and prays for us constantly and, too, our own words release the Spirit’s power within us. Thus, I’m letting it remain a mystery as to why we reach out to others in our time of great suffering or need. Perhaps it’s no more than the normal human desire to be held and loved by others; perhaps it’s a spiritual necessity to ask for the prayer of others in times of great suffering. Regarding praying for others: Most of my prayers for others are done without them knowing about it. I pray for the salvation of people in my family and have been for many years. My oldest son finally accepted the Lord though he is struggling, now, in his faith. I pray for leaders and people in tough political situations and have felt led to pray for strangers I have seen on Internet news sites -- one man, in particular, who was in tears over the deaths of his friends in the Ukraine, comes to mind. I have prayed for him and his family on and off for many months now. Intercessory prayer has to do with people more than situations. Or, perhaps, we interceded for the people in particular situations or circumstances. Too, we intercede in prayer for others who ask for our prayers. I freely pray for them. One of the things I do, now, is pray in text messages. Rather than just say, “I’ll be praying for you,” I actually pray, right then and there, for them. I want them to see the prayer and be comforted by those words, believing that God will answer the prayer in His time.

I know, without a doubt, that my salvation is secure. I know this because I've tried to run away from God and return to my secular life. He pursued me. He doesn't let me go. So, yes, I know that Christ died for the ungodly sinner like me. He pursued me at my worst, in fact. I've never felt too bad to forgive because of His nature, His essential out-reaching toward me in spite of my huge failures.

I am in a "harrowing crisis" right now. Interestingly, I am concurrently doing two of Pastor Ralph's studies (Romans and this one) as I battle the worst trial of my life. Both of today's lessons were on trials and suffering. I needed to read more on this topic and have just spent many hours praying and reading other poster's responses. God is in this. This is His way of talking to me and perhaps you. As I'm in the middle of the crisis, perhaps over the hump, I can tell you that it has brought me to my knees in desperation. I turned to God in prayer because, frankly, I had no recourse. There was nothing I can do -- it was utterly beyond my control. Knowing this was more than humbling ... it was terrifying. For almost three weeks I was unable to eat much and have lost 14 pounds from my already rather thin body. I have fitfully slept. I have cried and begged God to hear my prayers, to answer them ... to stop the injustice and persecution, but it felt like God wasn't doing anything. He seemed silent. Distant. Unconcerned. But after about three weeks, I grew ... I don't know ... closer to Him. Resigned, perhaps. I'm willing to take whatever happens but still hoping/begging that a desirable and righteous outcome will be mine. That's where I'm at now. I'm trusting God to provide a path out, to work in the hearts and minds of the others involved and incline them toward the truth. Again, I'm resigned to whatever He wants done in this situation, but fearful there won't be a "happy ending." Honestly, like Paul, I am begging God to die. I would rather be in heaven than have to endure this on earth. Heaven seems ... heavenly: earth is hell. I learned early on in this trial that I cannot rely on myself because there was no way to do so. This is so counter-intuitive to me that I'm sure my unwillingness to throw it all on God was part of the reason for His long delay. My pride is gone. It's been destroyed, I hope. At least in this situation. I don't know how this will impact my effectiveness as God's servant. Right now, I'm still shocked and probably not very useful. But, strangely, in the middle of my own crisis-of-life, people I don't know well have reached out to me for comfort; God has given me the strength to comfort them. So, perhaps, I'll be more usefulin the future as I'm more gentle, humbled and ... yes, devastated.

It’s incredibly difficult to rejoice in suffering. My first reaction to suffering is to beg for deliverance and for an end to the pain; it is not to rejoice. This suggests my character needs improvement, that I need to be more Christ-like. But there have been times, rare though recent, when I have spontaneously rejoiced through the pain. As I rejoiced, I thought immediately of Paul in prison, singing in front of the guards to whom he was chained. I cannot say I was overwhelmed with peace or even the presence of God. Others have experienced His presence in a closer way. I rejoice because this is what God via Paul tells me to do and I obey Him. Rejoicing starts with half-hearted obedience and then, God willing, becomes more genuine. I think God honours my efforts, small as they may be. I have rejoiced through tears. Through sobs. Through begging to be delivered. Even these pathetic attempts at rejoicing cause me to look at Him, for a moment at least, and not at the circumstances which right now, are dire. Perseverance is the stick-to-it-no-matter-what attitude that doesn’t pretend that suffering is desirable or wanted, and isn’t even sure if the suffering is of God or Satan, and has no idea why it is happening or if there is something for which I need to repent, but continues to get up, do devotions, pray for anything … for His help! Perseverance is continuing when His help does NOT come, when His timing doesn't seem fast enough and when the trauma is so deep that I cannot sleep and vomit incessantly. A tried character is one strong enough to be dependable. To me, that’s what His trying is about – producing Christians who are constant, true, dependable and like rocks. Hope is, by definition, is future oriented. It’s the part of me that clings to the slim reed that this trial will end with vindication, joy and peace, as well as a stronger character and a deeper knowledge of Him. I hope because He can bring good out of evil, bring redemption out of spiritual poverty, bring freedom to those captive and bring glory to His name.

I am at the crest of the worst trial of my life, at this moment, so these verses speak deeply into my heart. I’m not certain the purpose of suffering is to comfort others. For me, at least, the purpose of suffering is to develop me spiritually, to point out my spiritual shortcomings as well as highlight my faith and trust in Him. It’s about Christ-likeness. My character. And it’s about increasing my faith in Him, really believing He’ll come through for me, and trusting in His essential goodness and love. I wish I could say that I am calm inside, but I am not. Instead, I’m in turmoil … wavering. Yet I cry out to God for help … screaming into the wind, hearing nothing from Him. As weeks pass, however, I can see that He responded in ways I couldn’t notice. “Then they cried unto the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them out of their distresses.”

Abraham, who had only experiential knowledge of God, found what he understood to be enough to trust God to lead him from his home to a new land. This is faith in action. He believed what he experienced and moved forward on this basis. We have the Bible and thousands of years of Christian history to guide us, therefore the experiential aspect of our faith is not our only guide. This doesn’t mean we should not expect God to make Himself known to us in a personal way, but that this personal knowledge is no longer the starting point of faith, but something that grows as we mature in Him. To be justified is to stand before a judge and hear that judge pronounce me NOT GUILTY. God has done this with my sins. God is the judge. Because of Jesus’ death on the cross, God judges me as not guilty. My faith in the validity and efficaciousness of Jesus’ death is what justifies me. My faith + His act on the cross = God’s clemency.

Rosesam's description above is fascinating. It makes sense that they chiseled the rocks from a distance so the people wouldn't be disturbed by the constant sound of the hammering as well as have do deal with piles of rock refuse or shards left over. When the construction of large public buildings begins they often lay one stone on the corner that faces the busiest street. Thus, it is the first stone laid which connects two walls. You can often see the date of the building's construction chiseled into that stone. So, the cornerstone is not a capstone but a foundational stone. I see trinitarian metaphors here (but am probably just being imaginative.) Jesus connects two walls (the Spirit and the Father). He's also the foundation of human faith, the essential rock that cannot be pulled. He was rejected by the Jews as Messiah (and still is) which means that only Christians have the Messiah as their foundational rock. --- In this time of persecution, this verse means much to me: "The LORD is with me; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me? The LORD is with me; he is my helper. I will look in triumph on my enemies." (118:6-7) With God, I know that the worst thing that can happen to me is that I'm martyred and taken home to heaven. That's the worst my persecutors can do to me. I trust His promises to help me and that I will triumph over my enemies. I know that death will not be my end. "What can man do to me?" Well, a lot, actually. We all know the horrors that people inflict on each other. YET, this verse counsels us not to be afraid, that in the end, we triumph.

Paul curses people. To say he is not really cursing, or doesn’t mean it for whatever reason, is to deny the plain meaning of the text. To say that his curse only mirrors God’s curse on non-believers cannot be true because Paul has directed his words to Christian believers. Paul curses: Christians who are confused and preach non-Christian ideas Christians who do not obey when instructed Christians who do not love the Lord. ---- Why does Paul look forward to Christ's coming? Maybe it’s a mid-life crisis sort of thing, but I increasingly look forward to the end of life when I can be with my Lord. Yes, Maranatha. Come Jesus. Take me home. Those who have suffered endlessly and deeply are most willing to end our lives for Him or have the Messiah come again to claim us. We’re tired. The fight is exhausting. We just want to go home. Those who are old and have “fought the good fight” are also eager to go home, for the next life will be so much more satisfying than the final dregs of this one.

I believe the predominant emotion in this psalm is a deep sense of belonging or kinship. our father made us we are His God is our shepherd and we are his sheep. we enter His courts ... His house. ... through all generations. I have difficulty really believing God loves me and thinks toward me as a good father would, so I find this psalm assuring in that it reminds me, once again, that I am His child and He will be faithful to me. The commands are as follows: Know ... that He is God Enter ... His/our home with thanksgiving and praise Give Thanks Praise His name.

As we step forward in faith, Satan tries to push us back. As we get stronger in Him, Satan tests our faith and endurance. We must fight -- spiritual warfare -- but do so by relying solely on Him. That's the paradox, that as we fight He's really fighting for us. I have no answer for fear. Not a true one. As this happens to me, I freeze with fear. I know this is faithlessness on my part, of not believing God will rescue or deliver me, which is a spiritual problem, one of maturity. Clinging to His promises, writing them down and reciting them can help, at times. Mostly, I just lift my arms to God and repeat His name, "Lord, Lord, Lord, Father, Father, Jesus, Jesus, Lord ..."

The difference between "being sorry" and having a "broken and contrite heart" is a matter of degree. Repentance comes on a sliding scale. We can be a little bit sorry or prostrate on the ground sobbing over our deed or word. Repentance parallels humility. As a person becomes more humble in life, his/her recognition of the horror of sin proportionally increases. -- Many things in the Christian life seem to increase in intensity as we mature in Him. Prayer, for instance. We've all prayed the "Bless this food to our bodies ..." sort of prayer, the obedient and rote prayer that comes less from the heart than habit, but I'm sure everyone on this blog has prayed the heart-felt, almost numbingly wordless prayers of deep pain and desperation.

We make tentative plans because we don't know God's will, even in our immediate future. He unfolds His will to us as it happens. But we live in this world, one that requires some planning and fore-thinking. We can't exist in our society without making plans. The way to make plans, then, is to make them lightly, be willing to turn on a dime, and admit to ourselves that we really don't know what we're doing, that only God Himself knows what He will do in our futures.

What we experience and feel on earth isn't mirrored with what goes on in heaven. In heaven, our sins are forgiven and the opportunity for a pure heart is ours again. On earth, a "pure" heart is elusive -- to ask for a "pure heart" is like asking for something that is yet, but not yet ... It is quite true that God forgives my sins, that they are blotted out of the book of life and as far from me as the east is from the west. That's the heavenly perspective. Here on earth, however, I have to deal with the consequences of Forgiven sin. Since the consequences of sin linger, a pure mind is impossible. The mind is troubled by the memory of sin. Impure, that is. I'm not sure any Christian can have a pure heart this side of heaven. We can have a heart that is being purified by Jesus, the process of sanctification, but because we have sinned and suffered the consequences of our sins, the innocence and purity that could have been ours has been destroyed. We are forgiven, but not pure. I know this isn't the answer Pastor Ralph wants to read. "How much more, then, will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself unblemished to God, cleanse our consciences from acts that lead to death, so that we may serve the living God!" (Hebrews 9:14) This verse is not in the past tense. The Spirit has not cleansed our consciences (a completed act) is in the process of, cleansing our consciences. He's cleansing us now. Such cleansing won't be complete until we're dead. Thankfully, we can serve God with partly cleansed conscience. Though our sins are totally forgiven, we are damaged and chastised by the consequences of forgiven sin which cause our consciences to suffer.

In my secular family -- almost all atheists -- giving was a way of life, strangely. We were taught from an early age to be generous, to "give back." Many of Paul's teachings, here, were taught to me without the Christian foundation. My father regularly gave a large percentage of his income to charities and individuals he thought were worthy and taught me to do the same. Now, as a Christian, I look at giving differently. I see giving in a broader context, in all it's facets -- time, money, expertise, knowledge, care, etc. -- and do not reduce it to money. I believe we are all called to give generously, even self-sacrificially, in all the ways we can. Some of us have wealth ... others time and talent. We give as we can and always give when asked. Paul is clearly focusing on the giving of money, however. These verses are a tutorial to the poorer people on how to give, because in the past, they had never given. Giving had been viewed as something wealthy people do. The Corinthian church was not a wealthy church, on average, and therefore was unfamiliar with the discipline of generosity. And since the Corinthians were gentiles, not Jews, they weren't even familiar with the concept of tithing. Paul, then, needed to teach the rudiments of generosity. He told them to put aside money for those who may need it, to physically set it aside. He explained that they weren't required to give large amounts of money as did the wealthy, but only what they felt God was leading them to give. And he told them to never forget to put money aside for future and unexpected needs -- a rainy day fund for others! -- so it would be available when the church asked for it. This is practical advice.

David seems to be dealing with his internal motives for his sin more than the sin itself; he is looking at his own heart. What he sees in himself is a man who has both a propensity to sin as well as a genuine love for God. David, like all who are saved, has two warring aspects in his deepest personality, fallen and redeemed natures. His sinful core is being slowly cleansed via sanctification which is the powerful infusion of the Holy Spirit that can, if permitted, purify that sinful core. When we sin, we push away the presence and voice of the Holy Spirit within us by choosing to sin, which means we have chosen our fallen nature over the presence of the Spirit within us. In this manner, our sin is ultimately against God. I rather doubt that David was thinking along these lines – theologically – when he stated that his sin was against God. Instead, the Spirit had increased in David a sense of guilt and shame. David, then, intuited that his sin was against God. Deep inside, he knew he had sinned against the God whose character and righteousness actually defines sin as that which is not-Godlike. Uriah and Bathsheba were not forgotten by God. I’m certain that God, in His love, rewarded Uriah in heaven though the fact that an innocent and loyal man was murdered is very troubling to me. Though Bathsheba lived, her children were a great problem to David. I’m struggling with the idea that David’s sin had such horrible consequences in his life, that as a fully repentant and confessed believer, David didn’t and couldn’t expect God to erase the consequences of sin both in this life and the next. Perhaps God lets us wallow in the consequences of our sin to both punish and remind us of its dreadfulness so we don’t do it again. Are there examples in the bible where the consequences of sin are not only forgiven, but erased by God? Do we all suffer the Adamic curse of being forced out of our circumstantial gardens after we sin? Does God ever look down mercifully and say, “That’s enough … you’ve suffered the consequences of your sin for long enough so go live the rest of your life in peace.”

When God calls us to do work that is humbling and repetitive, work that seems not to result in satisfaction of a job "well done," work that is not satisfying in any way -- it does stretch or feel good when done, work that never ends ... yeah, it's difficult. Drudgery is difficult. Doing repetitive work over many years is even more difficult! But it does develop Christian character. In my case, I am (slowly) learning perseverance, patience and how to use my dull labour-time to pray. I am relieved that God will reward me in the end, for in this life, there is often no reward. He says that my labour is NOT in vain. He notices what I do. I believe He is smiling down on me for sticking this out. I do pray, though, that this season of unsatisfying labour ends soon! Pickled Lilly, as usual, writes very insightfully about this. To paraphrase, if the humbling (demeaning?) and unsatisfying labour is what God is asking us to do, that is, if the Spirit has definitely led us to do these tasks, then we know God will strengthen us as we labour as well as guarantee that our labours are not in vain. Our labours, then, must be His will, not something we believed we had to do.

As a Protestant, I would love to confess anonymously to a religious leader behind a screen, and then hear him mirror what Jesus would say, "Your sins are forgiven." I would love his advice on how to make amends. Such confession would help Protestants (and most Catholics) recover their own deeply rooted need to confess their sins to God. As Pastor Ralph wrote, they could experience a huge relief when forgiveness and freedom from past sin is understood to have happened. The fact that a person confesses to another person doesn't negate the fact the God is between them, hearing and forgiving. Confession precedes emotional and moral liberty. If we don't confess, we stay bound to the sin that controls us. We resist because telling anyone, even God, our sinful thoughts/deeds is akin to admitting that the image we've created of ourselves for both ourselves and others is ... a lie. That's why Nathan had to confront David. Had he not confronted David, David would have been able to pretend it didn't happen. To David's credit, his guilt overwhelmed him and he confessed. I've watched people double down on the sin rather than confess it -- confession is that hard! I'm sure I've done this myself. There is a moment in the Anglican liturgy before the eucharist where the congregants are supposed to recall sins and ask for forgiveness. Yes, it's a moment. In most services, I have barely started confessing and recalling sins when the minister moves on to the rest of the liturgy. This has bothered me for a long time. We need time to confess. I do think Protestant churches need to institute some sort of confessional time. There's nothing wrong with taking the best from our Catholic brethren. Anonymous, unseen, conversational confession could have the potential of radically changing our ability to confess to God as long as it were voluntary, anonymous, and secure. Perhaps one of the reasons why Catholic confession has fallen to the wayside is that the government has tried to coerce priests to give up confessional information to the government if a person confessed to have committed certain crimes. It's important to keep the government out of our relationship to God and each other. The wall of separation between church and state must be thick and tall.