Comfort in Liturgy - Confession of Sin & Assurance of Pardon

"Today on weary nations the heav'nly manna falls, to holy convocations the silver trumpet calls. Where gospel light is glowing with pure and radiant beams, and living water flowing, with soul refreshing streams"  (O Day of Rest and Gladness - Christopher Wordsworth)

"It is not insignificant that the liturgy of Sunday worship was developed early on in the church, to remind us that while God has prepared good works for us to do, we walk in them from the place of resting in the resurrection" - Ragged: Spiritual Disciplines for the Spiritually Exhausted by Gretchen Ronnevik

I love consistency. I love my everyday rhythm of rolling out of bed, walking to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, and powering on my computer to begin a day's work. After work I enjoy watching an episode of "Call the Midwife".  To help me sleep, I've recently enjoyed listening to Harry Potter on audiobook and remembering the experience of reading the books for the first time. I love knowing what to expect in a chaotic world.  My daily rhythms ground me when I am overwhelmed.  

 My absolute  favorite rhythm is my church's liturgy. Every Sunday, I look forward to confessing my sin with my brothers and sisters in Christ and receiving the assurance that I am not under the curse and wrath of God.  I hear the external pronouncement of God's  forgiveness and mercy for me, and it is so comforting.  

It is a time in which the law of God is read from either the Old or New Testament. Then the minister leads us in corporate confession: 

"Our Father, we are sinful and You are holy. We  recognize that we have heard in Your law difficult words, knowing how often we have offended You in thought, word, and deed, not only by obvious violations, but by failing to conform to its perfect commands, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. There is nothing in us that gives reason for hope, for where we thought we were well, we are sick in soul. Where we thought we were holy, we are in truth unholy and ungrateful. Our hearts are filled with the love of the world; our minds are dark and are assailed by doubts; our wills are too often given to selfishness, and our bodies to laziness and unrighteousness. By sinning against our neighbors, we have also sinned against You in whose image they were created. In this time of silent confession we bring You our particular sins...." 

After confessing our sins both corporately and silently before the Lord, the minister prays that the Father would look upon Christ the Righteous and forgive us our sins.  The minister then asks the following question: 

"Brothers and sisters, you have heard the Law and have confessed your sins to Almighty God. Do you believe that Jesus Christ, by his perfect life, sacrificial death, and glorious resurrection, has atoned for your sins and satisfied the wrath of God toward you?" 

"We do" , we say.

With uplifted head, my ears perk up to hear the familiar and lovely words of God's declaration of forgiveness from the minister's lips: 

"In the name of Christ and by the authority of His Word I declare to you that your sins are forgiven and you are not under the condemnation of God" 

My face always breaks into a big smile when hearing these words. I have never in my life interacted with the Gospel in such a communal and personal way. When this is done, I viscerally feel the weight of my sin and the relief that comes from hearing that I am not under condemnation.  I love the communal aspect of this practice as well. I feel connected with my brothers and sisters in Christ when I hear us all, in unison, confessing the same words, acknowledging our common need for forgiveness and mercy. When we do this every week, I am not left wondering if the Gospel really applies to me. When I look up and see the minister with his hands raised proclaiming the assurance of pardon, the Gospel is made so real to me that I find myself believing it again in all of it's sweetness.  

I love this Gospel consistency because inwardly I am inconsistent and chaotic. I am acutely aware  that I don't love God and my neighbor as much as I ought. I know that as I encounter the law in all of it's various forms, I fall short of "conforming to it's perfect commands". My motives are always mixed, and the temptation to look to my works to placate my conscience is always present.  Yet this beautiful rhythm of Sunday assurance continually reminds me that I am safe in Christ. All of my own internal chaos, doubt, inconsistency, sin, despair, and struggle is swallowed up in the consistency and stability of "Christ for me". 

The pain of honestly assessing where I fall short throughout the week is always overpowered by the joy of knowing that because Christ lived, and died, and rose again, my sins are forgiven and I am not under condemnation.  Christian, despite the accusations of your conscience and the chaos of this world, Christ's works for you forever grounds you in the reality of God's love for you.  His life, death, resurrection, ascension, and intercession is the perpetual truth that defines and colors your life. 

"Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" Romans 7:24-25a 

"For our sake, he made him to be sin, who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God" - 2nd Corinthians 5:21

P.S. I am also including a teaching that goes through reformed church liturgy in more detail. I highly recommend looking listening if you would like more context.  - "Confession of Sin and Pardon"