Wash Away My Sins

 “Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.” (Psalm 51:2)

Have I told you that spring is my favorite season of the year? Trick question. It’s true, I love the beauty of the flowers, and I am enthralled as I watch nature awaken from its winter slumber.

But there’s one thing about spring of which I am not a big fan. It kinda grosses me out. It’s the pollen. Between the pine trees, the flowering shrubs, and all the other plants erupting in full bloom, pollen is everywhere. It coats every outdoor surface. When you rub up against something, you come away with a yellow smudge on your clothes. 

I didn't want to shame anybody
by taking a picture of their car,
so I used this meme instead.
Totally accurate depiction.

Cars are especially vulnerable to the pollen. Well, and our noses, too.

Even when I open the door to the car, the pollen has found its way inside, on top of the wheel well. 

It’s everywhere, I tell you. Everywhere.

Thank God for the March rains and April showers, though. Not only do they bring the May flowers, but they also wash the pollen off of everything. After a good shower you will find streams of yellow-streaked runoff carrying the pollen away, and psychedelic pools of water with swirls of pollen floating in them. And just like that, the pollen is gone. Until it comes again. But for a moment, at least, everything is clean.

"For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me."

(Psalm 51:3) 

Whenever I see the spring pollen, I can’t help but think about the pervasive nature of our sin. It’s probably because I’m a Presbyterian, and we are sort of fixated on sin. Sin is everywhere, both personally and collectively. I know a lot of people don’t like to talk about sin, because it sounds preachy. But believe me, sin is real. And it finds its way into every aspect of our lives. Presbyterians, who love to throw around big words, call the thoroughgoing nature of sin “total depravity.” Because simply saying that we are sinners isn't enough.

Sin is everywhere. And here’s the deal: You and I can’t get rid of it, at least not by ourselves. We need help. We need a bath. Or maybe a power wash.

One of my favorite people of the Bible is David. A lot of people like David because he threw a rock at a giant and killed him. I like David because he bares his heart before God. And because he wrote a ton of psalms, he also bares his heart before us. “For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me… Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me.” (Psalm 51:3,5) 

David was a very self-aware person. He knew that on his own he could not escape his sinfulness. The solution to his sin had to come from outside of himself. And so he turned to God:

“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.” (Psalm 51:1, 2)

“Purge me with hyssop (whatever that is – probably some kind of supersoap), and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.” (Psalm 51:7)

“Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a right and new spirit within me.” (Psalm 51:10)

In an act of profound faith, David sought what he needed – forgiveness, cleansing from his sin – from God. Because David knew that God is gracious and compassionate, and that God is about the business of forgiving us and renewing us. 

A few hundred years later, one of Jesus’ disciples would offer this assurance: “If we confess our sin, God is faithful and just, and will forgive our sins and cleanse us of all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9) There’s that word again – cleanse. God washes our sins away, even better than the spring rains wash away the pollen.

I don’t know about you, but I always feel much better after taking a shower.

Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, O God, and cleanse me from my sin.

Dirty Hands

 “If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us of all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9)

So, yesterday was Ash Wednesday. I love Ash Wednesday – it’s the only day when people actually line up so I can tell them they are sinners. Go figure.

We had an Ash Wednesday service at our retirement village. But since not everyone would be able to attend the Ash Wednesday service, I carried my bowl of ashes with me throughout the day, making the ashes available to people who would ask me for them. 

Ashes on demand. Service with a smile.

Seriously, though, it is a sacred moment when I have the privilege of saying to the person standing before me, “You are dust, and to dust you will return.” Those are the traditional words spoken when imposing ashes on the forehead. The ashes, in the form of a cross, are a visible reminder of our mortality and our sinfulness, as well as the price that our Lord paid in order to save us from our mortality and our sinfulness.

At the end of the day, my finger was black with ashes caked in oil. Even after washing my hands, the ashes were still under my fingernails. I had to scrape them out when I got home. Sorry for planting the image in your mind.

Not only that, I realized that throughout the day there were things that I picked up and touched with my dirty hand, leaving an ashen fingerprint stain. I found an ash-print on my computer, on one of my calling cards, on a book I was reading. My ever-present coffee cup was the worst, with ashes smeared all over it. Everything I touched was stained.

It got me to thinking about the pervasive nature of sin. Everything – everyone – is tainted, stained by our sinfulness. Not that everyone is a horrible, no-good, very bad person; rather, it’s just that sin corrupts our being, and it makes us less than who God has created us to be. And no matter how hard we try, no matter how careful we are, we just can’t rid ourselves of our sin. The apostle John noted long ago that “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” (1 John 1:8) He was right – he is right – there is no use in denying our sinfulness. 

"If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves..."

But John did not stop there. He did not stop by reminding us of our sin, because our sin is not the last word he needed to say. And so he continued: “If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9)

Thank God that our sinfulness is not the final word for us. Our God does not leave us to wallow in our stained, broken nature. Indeed, the very heart of the Gospel is that God does for us that which we are unable to do for ourselves – God saves us from our sin. 

The final word is grace. 

Yesterday, as I was applying the ashes to the foreheads of my people, I felt an unease at stopping at the words, “...to dust you will return.” I can only describe it as a nudging of the Holy Spirit, but I felt like I had to add words of hope. (I can already hear the gasps of the liturgical purists who will insist that there is nothing to add to “...to dust you will return.”) And so after I said, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you will return,” I added, “and by the grace of God through our Lord Jesus Christ, you will be raised again.”

I felt like I had to say that.

Because the final word has to be grace.

A Prayer for Healing... from Sin

Create in me a pure heart, O God,

     and renew a steadfast spirit within me.

Do not cast me away from your presence

     or take your Holy Spirit from me.

Restore to me the joy of your salvation

     and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.

Then I will teach transgressors your ways, 

     so that sinners will turn back to you.

(Psalm 51:10-13)

Merciful and gracious God,

I have been so focused during this season

on one disease: COVID-19.

And with good reason, 

for the coronavirus has turned our world

upside down.

People around the world are dying from the disease,

thousands every day.

Our best science cannot cure it;

our best science simply says

that we should stay in our homes,

  and wash hands,

    and wear masks.

And so, with good reason,

my prayers have sought healing from COVID-19

and from the effects of the pandemic:

Heal your people, O God.

But there’s another disease to consider, O Lord,

Especially this time of the year,

in the days we refer to as Holy Week.

It’s a disease with one hundred percent infection

and one hundred percent mortality.

There’s a name for this disease, O Lord:

SIN.

I have the disease, Lord;

I have had it all my life;

and I cannot cure myself.

I can try to hide the effects of this disease

from people around me:

  I do good things,

  I help people,

  I show compassion to others.

I can put on a good show.

Omniscient God from whom nothing is hidden,

  you know I have the disease;

  you know I am a sinner;

  you know the corruption of my heart.

I cannot hide my heart from you, O Lord.

  You know my sins.

  You know my secrets.

  You know the things that taint and corrupt 

       the beauty of your image in me.

But then, as I remember your Son this week:

  betrayed

    denied – three times

      arrested and tortured,

        abandoned – by his friends, and by you 

          crucified – for me, 

                         and for every other sinner before me

                         and for every sinner alongside me

                         and for every sinner after me.

And so I know that there is a cure for my disease.

It’s not a cure I can conjure;

it’s a gift from you.

Thank you.

I cannot hide my heart from you, O Lord.

But I can give it to you:

Take me as I am, but do not leave me this way, I pray.

Take me, and wash me, 

    that I may be made clean and pure.

Take me, and purge from me 

    those things that have corrupted my being.

Take me, and make me a new creation.

Create in me a pure heart, O God, 

    for the sake of your glory and grace.

Heal me, I pray, of my sin.

Amen.

During the season of Lent, I am "Praying with David," using prayers from the psalms as inspiration for personal prayers.

Then I Acknowledged My Sin to You

Then I acknowledged my sin to you

     and did not cover up my iniquity.

I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord.”

    And you forgave the guilt of my sin.

Therefore let all the faithful pray to you

     while you may be found…

(Psalm 32:5-6)

Gracious and forgiving God,

I begin this 40-day journey toward the empty tomb

painfully aware that the reason for this season is sin – 

     even my sin,

     and the sin of the whole world.

It is sin – even my sin – that drove your Son to the cross.

It is sin – even my sin – that pounded the nails 

     into his hands and feet.

It is sin – even my sin – that caused him to cry out,

My God, My God, why have your forsaken me?

I confess to you, O God, my own complicity

in the scandal of the cross.

I am a sinner.

And yet…

And yet, you did not send your Son to condemn the world,

but that the world might be saved by him, and through him.

And yet, you are gracious and compassionate,

slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.

I am a sinner. And you offer me your forgiveness.

I ask for and accept your offer of grace and mercy.

I desire to counted among your faithful ones

who pray to you.

I desire to live into the truth of your unconditional love.

In all honesty, Lord,

I pray that these 40 days will inform all the days of my life,

so that every day I will confess to you,

and receive your mercy,

and offer myself as a living sacrifice

for you.

Through Jesus Christ,

my Savior and my Lord.

Amen.

During the season of Lent, I am "Praying with David," using the prayers found in the Psalms as a model and inspiration for my own prayers.

Praying the Passion, Part 2 - "Today You Will Be with Me in Paradise"

Jesus answered [the second criminal crucified alongside him], "I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise."- Luke 23:43

My Lenten discipline has been to write a prayer for each of the 40 days of Lent. The last seven prayers center on the seven last sayings of Jesus uttered from the cross. Today's prayer is based on the second saying.

"Today You Will Be with Me in Paradise"

From the foot of the cross I can see you, Lord.
And I can hear you. I can hear every word you say.

I heard what you said to the criminal crucified at your side:
"Today you will be with me in paradise."

Are you kidding, Lord?
Don't you know what he did?
Don't you know the evil he did?
There's a reason he's hanging on the cross, you know.
He's bad. Real bad.

Are you really going to forgive him, just because he asked:
"Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."?
Is that all it takes?

Then I remember that you once said, 

"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you."

And you also said, 

"...I have come not to call the righteous, but sinners."

And most your most famous words of all:

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."

So maybe you meant it, after all.
Maybe the criminal's faith was enough for your forgiveness.
Maybe all he needed to do, is ask in faith. 
Maybe your forgiveness even extends
  to the really bad people, too.

Maybe your work on the cross
  covers all sins. 
Every.one.of.them.
Including my sins.

Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.

Praying the Passion, Part 1 - "Father, Forgive them..."

"Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."- Luke 23:34

From the Cathedral of St. Francis of Assisi, Santa Fe, NM

My Lenten discipline has been to write a prayer for each of the 40 days of Lent. The last seven prayers center on the seven last sayings of Jesus uttered from the cross. Today's prayer is based on the first saying of Jesus from the cross.

"Father, Forgive Them..."

From the foot of the cross I can see you, Lord.
You're high and lifted up,
  but not like anybody ever imagined.
Your physical pain is unimaginable;
  your spiritual agony is beyond comprehension.
The crowd that has gathered is worked into a frenzy;
  your execution has become a sold-out, standing-room only 
    entertainment event.
You have been beaten, scourged, mocked, spat upon;
  you have been stripped of your clothing
  and your dignity.
There you hang, nailed to the cross,
  every fiber of your being screaming in agony.

Then you speak: 
  "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing."

I can't believe my ears, Lord.
 " Father, forgive them"? Is that really what you said?
  How can you say such a thing? 
  Why would you say such a thing?

Then I remember what you said last week,
  after you entered Jerusalem:

"Now my heart is troubled, and what shall I say? 'Father, save me from this hour'? No, it was for this very reason that I came to this hour."

And I remember that it was said of you
  hundreds of years prior:

"He was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed... The Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all."

"Father, forgive them."

Now I realize, my Lord, that it's not just "them"
    to whom you're referring.
"Them" includes me.

Now I realize, my Lord, that it's not just a few cruel people
  who nailed you to the cross,
  for I am one of "them".

My heart bows down within me
  to know that my sins have taken you to the cross.

Father, forgive them.

Father, forgive me.

Forgive Us Our Debts

"And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors."(Matthew 6:12)

Forgive Us Our Debts

"Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors..."
That's a tough one, O Lord. Really tough.

Do you really expect us to forgive others?
Everyone?

"Forgive us our debts, 
in the same way and to the same extent that 
we forgive our debtors."
If that's what I'm asking, then I'm in trouble.
But I'm pretty sure that's what I'm asking.

I'm going to need your help with this one, Lord.
I'm going to need your help if I'm going to forgive.

Forgiveness is your specialty. It's what you do.
As far as the east is from the west,
  that's how far you have removed my sins from me.
All of my sins, all of my offenses.
Every. one. of. them.

You have forgiven me so much.
I should learn to forgive.

Help me, Lord. Help me learn the way of forgiveness.
Help me live as one of your ambassadors, fulfilling the ministry of reconciliation to which you have called me.
Help me to be one who tears down walls that divide.

Help me, Lord. Help me learn the way of forgiveness.
Create in me a heart that is rich and abundant in mercy.
Fill me with a spirit that is driven by grace.
Help me to learn the way of forgiveness.
Amen.

Sunday Psalm

Note: As the observance of Lent does not technically include Sundays, instead of a prayer I will offer verses from the Psalter. 

Psalm 103:8, 10-12

The Lord is merciful and gracious,
    slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
9 
...
[God] does not deal with us according to our sins,
    nor repay us according to our iniquities.
11 For as the heavens are high above the earth,
    so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
12 as far as the east is from the west,
    so far he removes our transgressions from us.

Let It Snow

“Come, now, let us reason together,” says the Lord. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow...” (Isaiah 1:18)

Let It Snow

Let it snow, O God.

I love the snow, 

   especially when I don't have to drive.

The snow is beautiful as it covers the ground, 

   the trees, 

      the bushes.

The pure whiteness of a freshly-fallen snow 

   stirs my heart with awe and wonder 

   at your majesty and glory.

The light of the sun is magnified tenfold 

   when the snow reflects it; 

   its brilliance is stunning.

Let it snow, O God.

Let it snow on my heart.

Cover my sins with a blanket of purity.

Make my heart beautiful as the freshly-fallen snow.

Take my life, 

   and make me into someone 

   who reflects your light to the world around me.

Let it snow on my heart.

Let it snow, O God.