The “Bright Sadness” of Lent
A Commination
In older versions of the Book of Common Prayer, there’s a section called “a commination.” It has a rather weighty variant subtitle:
or denouncing of God’s anger and judgments against sinners with certain prayers to be used on the first day of Lent, and at other times, as the ordinary shall appoint.”
As a homeless Anglican, I have no diocesan bishop (let alone a diocese), and so I’m left to use this in my private devotions at my own trembling discretion. Technically, Lent began yesterday on Ash Wednesday, but the Commination has a stern value throughout Lent. The older 1928 BCP (which I’m using this year) sort of reformed this section in its “Penitential Office,” so I’m going to stick with the language 1662 for this post. Aside from the Ash Wednesday collect (a Thomas Cranmer original), the Commination has some of my favorite Lenten guidance.
Brethren, in the primitive Church there was a godly discipline, that, at the beginning of Lent, such persons as stood convicted of notorious sin were put to open penance, and punished in this world, that their souls might be saved in the day of the Lord; and that others, admonished by their example, might be more afraid to offend.
This is one of the reasons for church discipline – that others might see the correction and grow in their fear and hatred of sin (1 Tim.5:20). And so, as the Church of England continued this practice in the 17th century, “it is thought good that at this time [in the presence of the congregation] should be read the general sentences of God’s cursing against impenitent sinners.” The Commination mines Deuteronomy 27 and other texts and lists them as curses to be acknowledged. When was the last time your church service did that?
A Felt Kneed
What follows is the minister pleading with his people via the words of Scripture for them to repent. The melodies of John the Baptizer, the prophet Isaiah, and the apostle Paul are woven into an urgent symphony of “be saved!” After this full-throated exhortation to turn from sin, the people and clergy fall on their knees as one and recite Psalm 51.
They fall on their knees. In many evangelical churches, there’s a neglect of the body in worship. Your time in church is mostly for your mind and maybe for your spirit. In some traditions, you can sway. Perhaps someone might dare to raise their hand(s) during the chorus of a Matt Redman song. But to be on one’s knees after being read God’s call to choose life? The body’s posture has an effect.
Help Us Out, Jack
At this point, let’s invoke The Screwtape Letters. The more experienced demon, Screwtape, writes to his bumbling nephew, Wormwood, about how best to bedevil a person away from Christ. And in the fourth letter, Screwtape waxes eloquently on the body’s relationship to the soul.
[People] constantly forget, what you must always remember, that they are animals and that whatever their bodies do affects their souls. It is funny how mortals always picture us as putting things into their minds: in reality our best work is done by keeping things out.
We can be persuaded that the bodily position of our prayer makes no difference if our focus is kept on the mood produced by our concentration and our effort in the prayer. We try to whip up some improvisational devotional mindset when, in reality, a kneeling posture would nudge the soul into the correct state of awe for addressing God – or for repenting of one’s sins.
Thy Property is Always to Have Mercy
After Psalm 51, the priest moves with the people through the Lord’s Prayer and into a prayer in which God is asked to spare and to have mercy. In fact, the prayer reminds everyone that the Lord is so merciful that it is his “property” to have mercy. It’s a divine attribute. Mercy is one of God’s characteristics. This is the needful promise of Lent.
As we remind ourselves often of our sin and our need for repentance and the just wrath that sin incurs, we also must be reminded of the God who has mercy. He has such everlasting mercy that he covered the offense of our sin and hardheartedness with the blood of his Son, Jesus Christ. A big view of sin should lead to a big view of mercy. And so the Commination ends with this beautiful plea:
Turn thou us, O good Lord, and so shall we be turned. Be favorable, O Lord. Be favorable to thy people, who turn to thee in weeping, fasting, and praying. For thou art a merciful God, full of compassion, long-suffering, and of great pity. Thou sparest when we deserve punishment, and in thy wrath thinkest upon mercy. Spare thy people, good Lord. Spare them, and let not thine heritage be brought to confusion. Hear us, O Lord, for thy mercy is great, and after the multitude of thy mercies look upon us; through the merits and mediation of thy blessed Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
In his wrath for our sin, God thinks upon mercy for us because of Christ. As we weep and fast and pray (and fall into sin) this Lent, remind yourself of your merciful God who is more full of compassion and pity than you are of your own sin. Be blessed.