Repenting Trio

Part of this week's prayerful focus on Repentance...

"How can you love your neighbor

if you don't know how to build or mend a fence,

how to keep your filfth out of his water supply and your poison out of his air;

or if you do not produce anything and so have nothing to offer...

How will you practice virtue without skill?

it is of the mind and of the hands,

of neither alone."

- Wendell Berry, The Gift of Good Land

Jesus,

I repent.
Of my pride
that puts my self-serving way above Your servant way,
that puts my comfort, my desires, my goals,
ahead of You, and the rest of my family,
in this home, and in this world.

I repent
of my gluttony
that takes another helping when my sister in Sudan starves,
that consumes canned and packaged goods, plastic and cardboard, tin and glass, to feed my ravenous lifestyle.
while others cup their hands and beg for morsels of bread.

I repent
of my greed
for more,
another book, another vehicle, another pair of shoes,
when the widows and orphans don't have food, heat, or a place to lay their head.

I repent
of my theft.
The Earth and all that is within it is Yours,
And I, the lowly caretaker, have stolen what is Yours, acting as though it were mine.

I repent
of my idolatry
that covers this crown of grey with color and highlights when babies die for lack of medicine
that perfumes myself with appealing scents
when too many live in the stench of garbage and sewage.

I could offer feeble defense,
that we never buy clothes but at the thrift store, that we grow all of our own meat, eat our own eggs, fill our freezer with all our own corn. That we grind our own wheat, bake our own bread, compost, recycle, and drive but to church and the grocery store once a week, commuting nowhere to work. That we live simply, with few techno gadgets or toys, with no subscriptions or television, with plain meals and plainer vacations. That we tithe much, and give away the profits from the work of our hands to those who cry out for relief.

I could cling to the facade of my own goodness.

But this was about confessing
how I blatantly sin against You and Your creation,
this Earth that You alone own,
and these people whom You have made
with whom I share so relatively little,
not about all that I think that I do right, assuaging my conscience.

It is Friday, Father,
And I repent.
But will I remember come next Monday, and Tuesday and...?

If I say that I have no sin, I deceive myself, and the truth is not in me.

But if I confess my sin, You are faithful and just to forgive me of my sins and cleanse me from all unrighteousness.

I hold up my ugly confession, Father, of pride, gluttony, greed, and idolatry.

Cleanse me, Lord, cleanse me. My mind, my heart, my hands. And make all three like Yours.

Originially published in February, 2007