“The remembrance of them is grievous unto us”

The denomination in which I grew up, in which I was ultimately ordained a minister of the gospel—and which my family and I left about eleven years ago—was more liturgical than the average evangelical church. Although the worship services of each local congregation had its own distinct feel, there was a structure and pattern to worship which let you know you were in one of our churches, no matter the part of the country in which you were.

This was especially true when it came to the observation of the sacraments: the Lord’s Supper and Baptism. For the sacraments, there was a set form, with written prayers and set procedures. The ritual for the Lord’s Supper and Baptism were taken from the old Methodist Episcopal Church from which my former denomination broke rank in the late 18th century. The Methodist Episcopal Church, in turn, borrowed their ritual from the Book of Common Prayer of the Anglican Church from which it came.

After all these years, I still know much of the liturgy by heart, especially the order for the Lord’s Supper. After inviting communicants to the altar rail to partake of communion (in my former denomination, we used to kneel to receive the Lord’s Supper), the minister led the congregation in a prayer of general confession:

Almighty God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Maker of all things, Judge of all men, we acknowledge and bewail our manifold sins and wickedness, which we from time to time most grievously have committed, by thought, word and deed, against thy Divine Majesty, provoking most justly thy wrath and indignation against us. We do earnestly repent, and are heartily sorry for these our misdoings; the remembrance of them is grievous unto us. Have mercy upon us, have mercy upon us, most merciful Father; for thy Son, our Lord Jesus Christ’s sake, forgive us all that is past; and grant that we may ever hereafter serve and please thee in newness of life, to the honor and glory of thy name, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Today, I was thinking about particular sins I’ve committed, and the thought crossed my mind: “the remembrance of them is grievous unto us.” That’s exactly how I feel. I’m grieved by the things I’ve done. Needless to say, I can’t change the past, nevertheless, I still remember. Even knowing God’s forgiveness through faith in Jesus Christ, I find that “forgive and forget” is impossible to do. We can forgive others and receive God’s forgiveness, but the mind still retains its memory. It’s when my mind pulls up the memory of my sins that I’m grieved.

Not only does the memory of my sins grieve me, but the memory humbles me. When I want to lash out with condemnation against someone else, it is the memory of my own sin which either stops me completely or tempers my response. It’s the memory of my own sin which helps me understand fellow sinners, even of the grossest sort. I don’t condone their sin, but I understand that, but for God’s grace, I could do the exact same thing. It is the memory of my own sin which helps me to realize that, apart from Christ, I am a vile sinner deserving eternal condemnation.

Obviously, one can take this kind of thing too far. Nevertheless, I think brief remembrances of our own sins can be a useful corrective against self-righteousness and pride. As awful as abortion is, as shameful as homosexuality of any kind is, I just can’t get as worked up over it as some of my fellow conservative evangelicals. Is abortion a sin? Definitely. Abortion is murder. Is homosexuality a sin? Absolutely. It is an abomination in the sight of God. But the remembrance of my own sins reminds me that I’m not far removed from the homosexual or the one who condones abortion. Homosexuality and abortion are symptoms of a fatal affliction that I also have: sin.

The memory of my own sins informs me that the “pro-choice” individual and the homosexual do not need my hatred and condemnation; they need the Lord Jesus Christ, the Savior from sin. They need Jesus like I do.

Washington, DC, and the providence of God

Last Wednesday, my family and I returned from five days spent in Washington, DC—our first visit to this important and historic city. We had a wonderful time! There is so much to see and do, and we did not have nearly enough time, but we enjoyed everything we were able to experience.

In the span of those five days we walked to The White House and Washington Monument; visited the Lincoln, Jefferson and Franklin Roosevelt Memorials; saw the World War II, Vietnam and Korean War Memorials; visited Arlington National Cemetery and the graves of John, Jacqueline and Robert Kennedy, the Tomb of the Unknowns (and saw the changing of the guards), and the Marine Corps War Memorial (Iwo Jima Memorial); we also went into the Capitol, the Supreme Court Building and the Cathedral Church of Saints Peter and Paul (the Washington National Cathedral). Finally, we also made a quick visit to the National Aquarium in Baltimore. Whew!

The changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknowns in Arlington National Cemetery.

Ethan looking serious in front of the Iwo Jima Memorial.

The Washington National Cathedral—an immense and grand structure, and the 6th largest cathedral in the world.

The following Sunday, we had the privilege of worshipping with the good people of Hillcrest Baptist Church of Temple Hills, Maryland, where Eric C. Redmond is the pastor.

Hillcrest Baptist Church (I copied this photo off the web)

After worship we had the opportunity to meet and talk with Pastor Redmond. I also had the delightful surprise of running into Michael Mewborn of Reformed Blacks of America who, with his family, is a part of Hillcrest Church. That Sunday also happened to be my 45th birthday and the following Monday my 18th wedding anniversary!

On my birthday, outside the National Aquarium in Baltimore: Ethan, Evan, Catherine, Mary (Carl’s friend), Carl and me.

Still going strong after 18 years!

So, you can see our trip was, indeed, eventful. However, that wasn’t all for, by far, the highlight of our trip was meeting, for the first time in person, my biological father, Carl Wilson! This was intentional. You see, I met Carl over the phone only three years ago (that’s another, long story). We have talked and corresponded ever since, hoping one day to have the opportunity to meet. This trip was our opportunity.

Some background: Like my mother, Barbara, my father, Carl, was also a teenager when I was conceived. As you can imagine, the news of my mother being pregnant was rather traumatic. My family had never met Carl, so it came about one day that he was invited over to my grandparents’ house to meet my family. Unfortunately, when my father arrived, my grandmother, in what must have been a fit of rage, pulled a knife on him and, literally, tried to kill him. Fortunately, my grandfather intervened, grabbed his wife and held her, while Carl ran for his life. Understandably, Carl stayed away from my family after that (The irony is he would have received an understanding, compassionate reception from anyone else in my family, had he a chance to meet any of them. Unfortunately, he never got that opportunity). Ultimately, Carl moved to Washington, DC, where he has lived for the past 40 years.

Last week, thinking about my life history, and about the spiritual state of my biological parents and my now-deceased maternal grandparents, I was reminded, once again, of the providence of God. God, working behind the scenes, sovereignly guides all things—including the minute details of our lives—towards His appointed end, to accomplish His appointed purpose. From the perspective of 45 years of life, I clearly see God’s hand of providence in my life from before my conception until now. Without removing me from my immediate blood family, God so arranged circumstances that I was placed in the one home in my family where I would be exposed to the gospel and nurtured in a Christ-ward direction: with my great-grandparents. So, even though I was an “illegitimate” child, born out of wedlock, I still grew up in a two-parent household, had a “father”—my great-grandfather, “Pa Bill”—and a “stay-at-home mom”—my great-grandmother, “Grandma”, was well-provided for and given the opportunity to go to college and finish…and, on top of that, I was exposed to the gospel! What more could I have asked for? God worked through bad circumstances to bring about good.

Why has God seen fit to bring Carl into my life after all these years? Perhaps God has a gospel purpose in mind. I don’t know, but it’s both comforting and encouraging to be reminded that my life is still in God’s hands, and God can be trusted.

“But I trust in you, O LORD; I say, ‘You are my God.’ My times are in your hand…” (Psalm 31:14-15a).

I’m also reminded that our sin does not have to be the end of the story. Our sin cannot thwart the sovereign purpose of God. You and I should be glad about that! God’s plan is not derailed because of our sin and rebellion and disobedience. Our God is sovereign, even over our sinful choices, and He is more than able to work out His purpose in spite of us.

If you, like me, have sinned and messed up, first of all, you need to repent, turn to Christ Jesus as Lord, and receive the forgiveness He purchased with His blood on the cross. Then, be encouraged to know that your sin is not the end of the story. God has a plan, and His plans have never been thwarted. He has the power to bring good out of bad, to the praise of His glorious grace.

“Honor your father and your mother…”

Dr. John Piper’s father, Rev. William Solomon Hottle Piper, died yesterday morning, Tuesday, March 6, at about midnight. John Piper was at his father’s hospital bedside when he died. On the Desiring God Blog today, John Piper has posted his journal entry narrating his father’s death. I recommend you read it; it is a tremendously touching tribute to a godly, faithful father by his loving son. For that reason alone, it is worth the read.

But, I have two other personal reasons to recommend you read Piper’s account of his father’s death. As I read it today I thought, “I hope my sons can say these things about me when I die”, if the Lord wills that I precede them in death. Let your mind ponder the questions that have been on my mind today: What will those who know me best say about me when I’m gone? What kind of father, husband, Christian have I been?

Secondly, for those of you whose parents are living, may Piper’s account be an encouragement to love and honor your parents while you have the chance. If your parents don’t know the Lord, pray and seek opportunities to talk with them about their souls and share the gospel. If they are believers, take the time to let them know how the Lord has used them to influence your life toward God.

Actually, reading Piper’s account was painful for me. Although my biological parents are living, I’ve never lived with either one. They were unwed teenagers when I came into the world, and never parented me. My “parents”—the ones who actually parented me—were my great grandparents. They died in 1986 and 1989. My pain relates to my great grandfather’s death. He died at home. For various reasons, my great grandfather and I had a lot of interpersonal struggles, especially from my adolescence onward. Less than two days before he died, in an angry rage, I said some very hateful and hurtful things to him. I won’t bother with the details of what would be a very long and complicated story, except to say I acted immaturely, dishonorably, shamefully and sinfully. The venom I spewed forth out of my mouth that day still hung in the air the night he died. I have long since confessed my sin to the Lord, but to my dying day, I will regret every vile syllable I uttered in anger.

Reading John Piper’s tender account of his final moments with his father brought back to my mind my shame as my great grandfather was dying (although, truth be told, it’s never that far from my mind). This is why I encourage those of you whose parents are living: Please, love and honor your parents, and let them know how much you appreciate them while you have the opportunity. Although he was far from perfect, I can now say, as a 40-something-year-old man, I love and appreciate my great grandfather. Unfortunately, I don’t think he ever knew that. My opportunity is long gone. Don’t make the same mistake I did.

However, if you find yourself with similar regrets, I encourage you to turn to the word of God. If the one you’ve sinned against is in heaven, he or she is not troubled with memories of the pain you inflicted. The Bible says, “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes…, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Revelation 21:4). “They will see his face…” (Revelation 22:4), and the sight of our Lord will be more than enough to banish the memory of any pain or grief you caused. On the other hand, if the one you sinned against is in hell, (and this is not meant to be flippant) they have far worse things to worry about! Your sin infinitely pales in comparison to the eternal, just torments of hell. If the person you sinned against is deceased and your opportunity to apologize to them is gone, what you need to do is confess your sin to God. Seek the forgiveness that Christ purchased with His blood for everyone who savingly trusts in Him.