Liturgy of Confession

Here are the BCP confessions that we’re thinking, talking about as we meet on 4th October:

[lex orandi lex credendi lex vivendi: What we pray is what we believe is what we live]

The General Confession for Morning & Evening Prayer

Almighty and most merciful Father, we have erred and strayed from your ways like lost sheep. We have followed too much the thinking and desires of our own hearts; and we have offended against your holy Laws.

We have left undone those things which we should have done; and we have done things we ought not to have done. And there is no health in us.

O Lord, have mercy upon us, for we are miserable sinners. Spare us, who confess our faults; and restore us, who are penitent according to Your promises, which you have declared to us in Jesus Christ our Lord.

And grant, O most merciful Father, for His sake, that we may, from now on, live a godly, righteous and sober [i.e. serious, clear-headed, self-controlled] life, to the glory of your Name. Amen.

The General Confession for Communion:

Almighty God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Maker of all things and Judge of all people:

We acknowledge and lament our manifold [a multitude, and of different kinds] sins and wickedness, which we, consistently and most grievously have committed, by thought, word and deed, against your Divine Majesty.

We have provoked your wrath and indignation against us, and in this you are most just.

We do earnestly repent, from the depths of our being we are sorry for what we do wrong. Even remembering them now breaks our heart. The burden of our sinfulness is intolerable and beyond what we can bear.

Have mercy on us, most merciful Father. For your son, our Lord Jesus Christ’s sake, forgive us all that is past, and grant that from now on we may serve and please You in a newness of life, to the glory and honour of your name; through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

(If you really want to go to town, get hold of a BCP and read through the service of ‘Commination, Or Denouncing of God’s Anger and Judgements Against Sinners’. Traditionally this was a service that would have been used by the Church on the first day of Lent. I warn you though - it’ll make your hair stand on end).

There is a modernised and abridged version available here: https://bcp2020.co.uk/a-commination/

The Lamb receives the rewards of His suffering.

Christian and Hopeful finally stand before the Gates of Heaven, and the Shining Men bid them to call. The saints that have gone before look over the battlements of heaven, but it is none other than the King who commands the Gate to be opened. The Pilgrims present their scrolls, and in words that are so simple yet so sublime, ‘Now I saw in my dream that these two men went in at the gate…’. It is beyond the imagination of mortals to convey the joy they felt, nor the sights they witnessed… nor the Majesty and Glory of the One who bids them enter.

These closing paragraphs are among the most celebrated of the Pilgrim’s Progress. Bunyan’s genius as a writer is often the focus (ironically). It is true that he paints a vivid picture with remarkably few words, and that what he chooses not to say is as powerful as what is written. But Bunyan would be seriously disappointed if his ‘less is more’ literary approach was what amazed us in these closing scenes.

Bunyan is determined to stay within Biblical parameters as he gives us this slightest glimpse into the wonders of the Celestial City, and of the Pilgrims as they are ‘transfigured’. Christian and Hopeful are equipped for the worship of heaven, and clothed in raiment fit to be there. The architecture and atmosphere of the City are hinted at, as is the powerful joy and worship within it. But after a breath-taking three short paragraphs, we are simply told, ‘And after that they shut the gates…’. But as the thunderous noise of the gates being shut echoes down the Hill, Bunyan gives voice to us all who have travelled with the pilgrims and watched them enter their rest: ‘I wished myself among them’.

Indeed.

But perhaps it is worth remembering that we have already been seen among them. In the Apocalypse of St. John (the Book of Revelation), John is granted a number of visions that lead up to the end of this age, and at the end of each sequence he is granted an insight into the worship of the Heavenly Courtroom. During one such glimpse, he sees ‘a great multitude that no-one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language standing before the throne and before the Lamb…’. later in the sequence he is asked who this great crowd are. John (wisely!) evades an answer, but it transpires this is the Church, redeemed out of this age, glorified, dressed to stand before the throne and captivated in worship by the God and the Lamb who sit on the throne before them. There is much tenderness in the picture of the Church, battered and beaten down by her Pilgrimage through the tribulation of this world being gently restored and refreshed in her worship.

But remember, this is the Church at the end of the age. The entirety of those who have confessed Christ as Saviour and Lord throughout the long centuries of history. The full roster of those who have walked the Narrow Path. The full register of Pilgrims.

including those from MIE…

I find this a breath-taking realisation. I have been seen in heaven.

And Jesus is not ashamed of me. We looked at this briefly in yesterday’s post, but it is worth returning to as we draw our series to a close. Heb.2:10-13 is an incredible passage in this regard, speaking as it does of Jesus’ bringing many sons and daughters to glory. It exalts the Person of Christ in His being holy, and the work of Christ in making us holy. It wonders at the union we have with Christ, our adoption as His brothers and sisters. And in the midst of it all is the extraordinary declaration: Jesus is not ashamed..! Not ashamed of what? He is not ashamed of us! He is not ashamed to call us His brothers and sisters. As we rejoice in Him in song, so He rejoices over us in song; as we delight in Him, so He delights in us (Zeph.3:17).

As I’ve read and pondered these closing scenes of Christian’s Pilgrimage, this is the amazing truth I’ve found myself coming back to again and again. Christ died to win for Himself a people. Or in the words of Paul, ‘Jesus Christ … gave Himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness, and to purify for Himself a people that His very own, eager to do what is good’ (Titus 2:13-14). In His glorious condescension and infinite compassion, that is and always has been His design. When Christ entered into eternal Covenant with His Father to redeem the Church through the Spirit, in His heart He longed for His Bride. In a single moment of colossal self-sacrifice, for which all of creation was called into being, He would revere His Father and redeem His people. The fullness of that compact between the persons of the Trinity is beyond human grasping, but this much we know: Whilst we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

And when we finally arrive at the Gate of the Celestial City, the Lamb that was slain from before the foundation of the world, will receive the reward of His suffering

Soli Deo Gloria.

There's no place like home...

Coming out of the River on the other side of death, they are greeted again by the Shining Ones, who escort them to the Gate, carrying these immortal Pilgrims up the Hill of the Lord (Ps.24). Bunyan does his best to catch us up into the sense of anticipation they feel as they approach the ramparts of heaven. It’s worth going back and reading this section again and again, as Bunyan piles up passage after passage, image after image (all of them drawn from Scripture) to awaken in us the joy of those who share the same hope! We would do well to meditate deeply on such passages with regularity. They will cause our spirit to soar, and to tremble.

Christian and Hopeful are met by ‘a company of heaven’ who come out to meet them. They are welcomed with benediction and a trumpet voluntary that must have shaken the foundations of the City! The gladness and celebration of their arrival before the Gate of Heaven is one of the most touching and compelling scenes in the whole book. And it leads us into an aspect of Christian experience that we may not be overly familiar with. When you imagine your arrival at those ‘ancient doors’, what happens? Do you see yourself standing sheepishly outside, while some conference is held within, deciding whether you made the mark or not? Do you expect to be welcomed grudgingly, with an air of dissatisfaction and disappointment? Do you expect to skulk into heaven, let in by someone who really should know better?

All of which would betray a tragic lack of awareness of the completeness of Christ’s work for us as our Mediator and Great High Priest. He has provided everything that is needed for every aspect of our Pilgrimage, and has given all we need for a triumphal entry to glory. I wonder if we dare to believe that Heaven will be glad to see us? … that the doors will be flung wide and that our arrival will be celebrated and rejoiced in? …that there will be angels, and saints who have gone before, who have rejoiced to see Christ’s grace worked out in our lives, and who delight now to see that grace brought to fruition in even such as us? …that even now they wait with eager anticipation for our arrival?

Perhaps even yet, our focus is too much on our own performance rather than on Christ’s? We pilgrimage in Him. And our welcome at Heaven’s Gate is the welcome He Himself has received. We are adopted in Him, and the greeting we receive is that of children coming home to a loving Father, of a family that have missed us, but tracked our progress on the way home. Angels who have ministered, unheeded and neglected by us, will line the way delighting in our salvation, and in the power and wisdom of Him who had sent them to our aid.

In a deep sense of course, the celebration of our arrival is an act of worship. None of us on that day will seek to take the accolades to ourselves. This isn’t our great Oscars moment, where we take the award and thank everyone who helped make it possible. Never will we be so humbled as on that day, never so grateful, never so meek. As we step out of the River, we will (in ways we can barely imagine now) know how fully we have needed His compassion and mercy, how every step along the Path was enabled by His strength and goodness, how every battle won and trial overcome was by His power and might. We will know for the first time what it means for us to have trusted in the grace of Christ, . As we gaze fully on the glory of heaven, and begin to enjoy the communion of saints, witness the ranks of angelic beings who ceaselessly declare the glory of the God who sits on the throne, and of the Lamb, in that moment the single great and overwhelming desire of our heart will be to stand in that magnificent congregation and to add our redeemed voice with theirs as we sing:

Worthy is the Lamb, who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honour and glory and praise!

Rev.5:12

Questions to ponder:

Dare you believe this?

As you contemplate such a scene, how does it shape your engagement with the congregation of the saints in the much more mundane context of Ipswich?

Why not memorise Jude 24-25:

To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy — to the only God our Saviour be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.

(emphasis added)

A River runs through it

Of all the deaths I have been present at, one of the most troubling and yet most triumphant was of a godly woman, who had served much of her life as a missionary in Pakistan. As she lay dying, she felt so very keenly the assault of the evil one. Given her life, I had little reason to doubt what she testified to in her death. It was a time of spiritual struggle, prayer, worship, reading of Scripture and exhortation. At the end she died in peace, confident of Christ, and His work. Her passing was marked by a great victory of faith, in confidence that the Saviour she had given her life to preach was able to deliver her from death.

As they face the River that symbolises death, both Christian and Hopeful are ‘much stunned’. Both hesitate, and wonder if there might not be any other way to the City beyond? It turns out that there are at least two other ways: the path trodden only by Enoch and Elijah; and a ferry service, offered by one Vain-hope. There is a confidence that comes not from what we know, but from what we don’t. And there are those who enter death with a misplaced security, and who are too far in before they realise they should have, like the Pilgrim’s, been ‘much stunned’ at its prospect. Christians alone, well versed in Scripture, understand the reality of death. Whilst this tends to terror, they also know the reality of Christ’s victory over death in the resurrection. This tends to confidence in the face of terror.

But this cosmic tension in Christian experience is what accounts for the Shining Ones’ counsel: ‘You will find it deeper or shallower, as you believe in the King of the place’. As we enter death, which will dominate: the reality of death, or the reality of Christ’s victory over it? Hopeful, true to his name to the last, feels the River’s bed and cries out in triumph. Christian has greater conflict. All through his Pilgrimage, Christian has struggled with Pride. And even here, in the midst of death, his thoughts turn from Christ and centre on himself. He remembers his sins and ponders his failings, rather than remembering Christ, and pondering the deliverances Christ has wrought. His view of the city is cluttered with fell and evil spirits as he is tempted even yet to lose sight of the King. Old doubts resurface, new fears engulf him, and foes old and new stand in his way. He is not in anguish at losing the world, but at his lack of holiness and faith. Death is a another trial to Christian. One he will vanquish, but a trial nevertheless. The River is deep when our faith in the King of the place is shallow. And it is shallow where our faith runs deep.

Hopeful has faith enough for both. His thoughts rest on the King, and his eye is on the Gate to the City. Death is nothing more than a necessity, a scorpion whose sting is drawn, a defeated foe, powerless to prevent his crossing. Bunyan stresses to the last the critical importance of fellowship. When our faith weakens we allow others to carry us. Or at least we should do! Sometimes we have no choice. As Christian struggles to keep his head above water… and barely manages even with Hopeful’s help! ‘Hopeful also would endeavour to comfort him, saying, Brother, I see the Gate and the men standing by to receive us’. Hopeful reminds Christian of the promises of Scripture, of the triumphs they have known along the way, the evidences of God’s having been with them. He is desperate to have Christian fix his eyes on Christ, who is both Pioneer and the Perfector of our faith, the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End of faith as of everything.

…and who now proves faithful to His Pilgrims. ‘Christian [after being absorbed in his thoughts for a time] brake out with a loud voice, O I see Him again! And He tells me ‘When you pass through the waters I will be with thee, and through the rivers, they shall not flow over thee’ (Is.43:2)’.

‘Then they both took courage, and the enemy was after that as still as stone, until they were gone over. Christian therefore presently found ground to stand upon, and so it followed that the rest of the River was but shallow. Thus they got over’.

Questions to ponder:

What Scriptures have you memorised that will give you hope and comfort when you step into the River? Who have you asked to be with you, to pray for you and to fellowship with you as you die?

When you are called to the bed side of a dying Christian, how do you plan to encourage them as they face the last great enemy of their Pilgrimage?

No post on Thursdays

But here’s a Bunyan quote to get you through the day…