God, be merciful to me, a sinner

The early Methodists regularly met with other likeminded believers who were committed to rigorous self-examination. They gathered to confess their sin before God and each other, seeking support and encouragement in an atmosphere of loving accountability so they might grow in holiness and grace through the power of the Holy Spirit.  There were 22 questions that were commonly used for this searching self-inventory, and the first one is a real zinger. 

Am I consciously or unconsciously creating the impression that I am better than I really am? In other words, am I a hypocrite?  

This searing question invites us to see ourselves in Jesus’ parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector in the gospel of Luke.  You know the story. The good, honest, law-abiding religious guy looks over at the louse who has cheated people out of their money and collaborated with the enemy, and he loudly thanks God that he is nothing like that! Meanwhile, in humble acknowledgement of his guilt, the tax collector barely lifts his eyes up to heaven as he softly prays, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”  

Lately I have been asking myself that question in light of the murder of George Floyd and the public outcry following. A massive outpouring of grief and anger and a passionate demand for justice has become a global reality with marches and protests in cities and towns literally around the world. 

Everyone, it seems, has something to say. Some of us, myself included, have fallen all over ourselves posting supportive messages and memes and/or peacefully protesting and preaching — and of course it’s a very good thing that eyes are being opened and that so many want to help change systems and institutions that have persistently favored whites over blacks and other people of color.  

But in some cases, it seems that we who are genuinely well-meaning are also trying to distance ourselves from “those people " while ignoring our own prejudices and shortcomings. It’s  “Oh, I’m not like that; look at what I’m reading/doing/saying and who I’m hanging out with” or “Look how woke I am about this stuff. Let me tell the rest of you what you should be reading and doing.” Reflection on that question has made me stop and look honestly into my own heart and ask again —

Am I consciously or unconsciously creating the impression that I am better than I really am? In other words, am I a hypocrite?

Ouch. I don’t want to see myself as a sinner, as a racist, as a hypocrite, as a person who benefits consciously or unconsciously from advantages I have neither earned nor achieved. It may feel good to write blog posts like this and indignantly stick up for people of color, and it may look great to like and share stories on Facebook and fill my bookshelves with the writings of James Baldwin and Alice Walker and Cornel West and Toni Morrison, and it’s better to do those things rather than propping up the status quo, but it means little if I am not willing to be changed and to become an agent of change. It means nothing if I do not seek to walk humbly with God, if I do not love wholeheartedly like Jesus, if I do not blaze with the passion of the Holy Spirit. 

Ordination stole, 1999

As I continue to ask myself that question, I confess before God and you that I have a long way to go before I can truly say that I love my neighbor as myself. I have much to learn and do, and there are many stories I need to hear. And so, as I slightly lift my eyes towards heaven, I pray for strength and boldness and forgiveness, as I open my heart to the transformative, fiery grace of the Spirit, as I continue to pray, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”