The snow has a crunchy top layer from the temperatures dipping down today. I’m nestled in a bay window, and watch the still, quiet street of my new neighborhood. In middle class America. Insulated from the suffering. Here, I am seemingly a world away from the hurting.
I open to the back of the resource I’m using for Advent. There I find written prayers recorded for the reader’s benefit. I start with “The Prayer of Confession” and my going-through-the-motions rhythm is interrupted by this sentence:
“I confess that I have sinned against you…by what I have left undone…”
The tendrils of that sentiment curl around my conscience and don’t let go. I come back to that phrase again: “…what I have left undone…” It’s an unexpected word of repentance for this Protestant. We who usually reserve confession for sins committed, not omitted. But there is truth that resonates in me from these words.
…what I have left undone…
My rebellion against the ways of God’s kingdom comes often in the form of what I have failed to do. The violence in my heart has often been most clearly exposed in what is left undone in me, through me, because of me. Maybe my confessions need to be filled with sorrow for what might have been, not what was.
It nags at me. Those five words printed on a page at the back of a book. Five words that disturb my otherwise peaceful, silent night.
Just tonight, I’ve been exposed (again) to unimaginable pain. Across my computer screen, the stories show up in my newsfeed and my inbox. I read of the ongoing suffering in the city where I resided for two decades. I scroll through debate after debate that litters the political landscape. The headlines that never let up, reminding me this world is far from perfect.
It’s Advent, and as the headlines mingle with the warm glow of christmas lights, a longing merges. A deep yearning to feel; to be moved; to be awakened. Admittedly, my own suffering has anesthetized my heart. My weary soul has been in need of a pass on the messy of life. I’ve wanted permission to be dismissed from having to engage. But tonight, there’s no escaping. Something has been
…what I have left undone…
What if I am most in need of confessing the things I have not done? Have not completed? Have not attempted?
Jesus is a dependent baby in the manger, but soon He will be an envelope-pushing, pot-stirring threat to the established order. And scripture says Jesus was without sin. So, Jesus’ challenge of the status quo, His fight for the marginalized, His undaunted courage to rebuke corrupt politics that masqueraded as righteousness - none of that disqualified Him from that description of perfection. What if Jesus’ greatest temptations were in what He could have left undone; what He could have skirted, skimmed, or avoided so as not to rock the boat or make things worse?
…what I have left undone…
Jesus never had to pray a prayer of confession, but I wonder if those five words were the biggest temptation of His ministry. The temptation to stay silent, to remain a bystander in the crowd, to overlook the need. Jesus, however, never left anything undone that needing doing. He never left anything unsaid that needing saying.
But me? I have come up short far too often. Perhaps my deepest confessions lie in the space where I have not acted; have not spoken; have not moved.
Here’s a start to this confession. God, I have sinned against you by leaving these actions undone:
- following through on my promise to edit my daughter’s essay
- acknowledging publicly and boldly that I support the #metoo movement
- regularly speaking words of encouragement to my husband
- seeking solace through the ancient words of scripture
- calling my senators to express my lament over the tax reform bill
- saying thank you for the blessings of this day
- remembering the plight of refugees worldwide
- declaring the destructive marriage between Christianity and conservative politics
- making it known on a regular basis that “Black Lives Matter”
- freely offering kindness to my children when I’ve been frustrated with them
- saying for a 100th time that the government (national, state, and municipal) has not done right by the city of Flint
…what I have left undone…
The wounds of this world are deep. Sometimes gaping. I have no desire to add to the injury by leaving undone something that is needed by a follower of Jesus. It's Advent and Jesus is coming. He's not coming to coddle my comfort, but to expose the wrong. Not to build a name for Himself, but to usher in a bit of Heaven on earth. And maybe Jesus shows up in my life most clearly when I choose to do that which I have formerly left undone.
God, forgive me when I fail to act, respond, or speak in ways that build Your Kingdom. Forbid it, Lord, that my comfort and security obscure my faithfulness. Forgive me for allowing fear and complacency to meter my actions and thus allow the darkness to reign. Only then, God, when I have left nothing undone that needs to be done, will I find peace amidst the pain. Give me wisdom. Make me brave. Amen.
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