on the approach (2)
The second thought I have had about this “approach to God” has to do with coming to God “as we are.”
Self-Awareness
Pray as you can and do not try to pray as you can’t. Dom Chapman
That parable that Jesus tells of a tax collector and a Pharisee is one that comes to mind when I think of the quote above (Lk 18.10-13). The Pharisee prays from a very righteous place, while the tax collector acknowledges his more realistic place before God. Jesus’ point is that we are to come to God in prayer - not as we desire or long or wearing a mask to find God’s approval - but coming to our Mighty God with an awareness that we are not worthy of a relationship, save the mercy found in Jesus. To approach God with self-awareness is to fight the temptation of employing pious language and acting more accepting of God’s will than reflects our personal reality.
When we only bring that “holy” part of ourselves before God, what are we sacrificing? When we fail to approach God in all our honesty, fully self-aware, it seems we fail to bring our whole selves, those parts which need to come bare and honest before God. We fail to bring our real need. We fail to trust God’s acceptance, mercy, power and love to deal with our imperfections and sin.
May we come to God and pray as we can - not using words or language that puffs us up or covers us up.
“Lord, have mercy on me a sinner.”

Comments(3)
Those closest to Jesus were confused during this final week of his life (not able or wanting to come to terms with the finality of Jesus’ language during this week) and even one would be used by evil to deliver him to death; but one disciple would bring him a moment of joy during this extremely difficult week. It was not one of the usual suspects - Peter, James or John - or any of the other “Twelve.” It was Mary of Bethany (according to John) that brought a years worth of quality perfume and anointed Jesus in the midst of his time at an evening dinner. She just lavished him; anointed him with sweet smelling perfume as an act of devotion and an act of surrender to cast her lot with Jesus’ mission (not to be overlooked she also probably just spent a good deal of her inheritance on Jesus). This act a moment of beauty and extravagance, a moment of clarity and a moment of confirmation in the midst of Jesus’ week was one that seemed to be profound in the Messiah’s estimation - as he declared, “wherever the Gospel is preached in the world, this woman’s deed will be remembered.” (Mt. 26.13)
Unexpected. We get jaded. We have heard it all. Few things surprise and startle us anymore - we get real time feedback of every tragedy and every news worthy story - we hear it as it unfolds; and over time nothing really shocks us. Forecasts of everything from the future stock price to the weather prepares us for anything. We woke up to a covering of snow this morning and just 60 or so years ago - before doppler radar and computer weather modeling - it would have been “unexpected.” Israel expected a king - a king like David and they expected a prophet - a prophet like Moses; but the Son of God? God in the flesh sent by the Father above? How? God is one. Unexpected, to say the least. It is all coming to a head on this Tuesday of Holy Week as Jesus makes his words more clear, bolder and as he confronts the religious leaders, sealing his fate.
An extremely busy and active week unfolds for Jesus as he approaches the pinnacle of his purpose for coming to live among us. One of the Psalm’s that is rehearsed on every Monday of Lent (an old tradition) is Psalm 23 and I can’t help but think how comforting that song of David might have been to Jesus as he progressed through this week. I also am challenged to think, “Are our churches places like David describes in that Psalm?” My experience unfortunately has been to find the Church competing with the culture around it to gain peoples attention with full calendars and endless activity. Maybe being distinct from our culture and offering a haven of quiet and a refuge of rest is what our stressed and adrenaline-addicted world needs.
