The Truth of Our Lives

We are now at the third installment in our contemplation of worship through its senses. First we allowed Jacob to introduce us to awe – that unexpected moment of holy encounter when we are caught up in something far bigger than ourselves and it brings us to tears and to joy and to worship.

Next we allowed Babette and Jesus to invite us to the feast – the one we are reluctant to enter because we simply can’t believe it is OK to indulge the delight that is God’s grace. This third week draws us deeper into truly sacred worship. If we trust God and know the goodness of God, then we are drawn into the truth of God and into the truth of our lives.

            As we gather for worship at Seneca Presbyterian Church this Sunday, we will allow David, Bathsheba, Uriah, and Nathan to invite us into truth. The story is the classic tale of lust, power, and conquest when the great King David, the apple of God’s eye, succumbs to the illusion that kings can take whatever they wish, including another man’s wife. Sadly, it is a story that lives on in so many ways even today. But unlike the stories of our world, God’s truth entered this one. When confronted with his sin, David confessed his guilt.

            Where can we go to honestly and safely confront our guilt? When we worship, we talk about sin. We even confess it. We use someone else’s words. Sometimes we confess the sin of others, trusting that we can bring that truth before God on the world’s behalf. In our tradition, we pause for a moment to confess privately our own sin before God. Then we always hear an assurance of pardon. Is that all it takes?

            When the faithful Wednesday night seekers entered this story, we asked if we could be honest – brutally honest – about our lives within the embrace of sacred worship. Can we name our true sins? Can we confess the struggles and the contradictions we are forced to encounter as we live out our lives in a world that does not always honor God’s way? If we succumb to the world, is it a sin?

What if we are forced to charge a customer with a less than stellar credit history 30% interest on a car loan? Is that sin or just good business? What if I say “no” to the habitually homeless man who comes asking for grocery money – for the third time in as many months? Is that sin or tough love? Should a Christian walk away from a job mining coal that blasts away 400 vertical feet of a mountain, strips the mountain of its coal, and leaves behind its mess?

Did we come up with the answers? No. Our dilemma was even more basic. Can we even talk about those challenges without judging and without preaching? Or is church the place for our Sunday best, leaving our real lives outside the walls? 

The question remains: if we cannot speak the truth of our lives in church, where can we?