I've been reading a fun and insightful book; one that has challenged me. It's a book about a nameless man that takes place in Russia in the 1860s. He's a Christian wandering around Russia as a Pilgrim seeking God and having many adventures with the goal of figuring out what it means to "pray without ceasing." The name of the book is THE WAY OF A PILGRIM & THE PILGRIM CONTINUES HIS WAY.
In one section I found my Pilgrim friend in the middle of preparation for confession. He thought that since he was going to get things right with God, he'd make a written list of every sin he'd committed since he could remember. I'm guessing this took a while. After getting his list (maybe a book) finished, he came across a Priest who was known as being a wise and helpful counselor. He went to this wise Priest and began confessing his sins. The Priest, being wise and all, rebuked him for bringing up things that God had long ago forgiven and placed under the blood of Christ. He reminded the Pilgrim that what's forgiven is history.
About now I'm thinking the Pilgrim is feeling pretty good to be free, but then the Priest said something that knocked the book out of my hand and that's what I want to share with you on my blog. Here's what the Priest said to our Pilgrim:
" You have not disclosed the gravest sins of all. You have not acknowledged nor written down, that you do not love God, that you hate your neighbor, that you do not believe in God's Word and that you are filled with pride and ambition. A whole mass of evil and all our spiritual depravity is in these four sins...."
I had been traveling with the Pilgrim for 145 pages before I met the wise Priest and all along I'd seen nothing that implied the Pilgrim was a man of such character. I'd seen him helping people, giving away his money and time, beaten and robbed and helping those that did it to him later on in the book and all of these things were done from a good heart.
As you can imagine, the Pilgrim was taken aback by such a statement and immediately defended himself rather well. The Priest was not only wise but compassionate. He'd already been through these 4 grievous sins himself and wrote notes that he now shared with others that told of what he'd learned. He called his notes: A CONFESSION WHICH LEADS THE INWARD MAN TO HUMILITY. Then the wise Priest gave the notes to our Pilgrim and we all get to read what he wrote and it was then, as I read, that I realized I was the Pilgrim. Here's an excerpt from the notes:
1) I do not love God. For if I loved God I should be continually thinking about Him with heartfelt joy. Every thought of God wold give me gladness and delight. On the contrary, I much more often and much more eagerly think about earthly things, and thinking about God is labor and dryness. If I loved God, then talking with Him in prayer would be my nourishment and delight and would draw me to unbroken communion with Him. But, on the contrary, I not only find no delight in prayer, but even find it an effort. I struggle with reluctance, I am enfeebled by sloth (laziness) and am ready to occupy myself eagerly with any unimportant trifle, if only it shortens prayer and keeps me from it. My time slips away unnoticed in futile occupations, but when I am occupied with God, when I put myself into His presence every hour seems like a year. If one person loves another, he thinks of him throughout the day without ceasing, he pictures him to himself, he cares for him, and in all circumstances his beloved friend is never out of his thoughts. But I, throughout the day, scarcely set aside even a single hour in which to sink deep down into meditation upon God, to inflame my heart with love of Him, while I eagerly give up 23 hours as fervent offerings to the idols of my passions. I am forward in talk about frivolous matters and things which degrade the spirit; that gives me pleasure. But in the consideration of God I am dry, bored and lazy. Even if I am unwillingly drawn by others into spiritual conversations, I try to shift the subject quickly to one which pleases my desires. I am tirelessly curious about novelties, about civic affairs and political events; I eagerly seek the satisfaction of my love of knowledge in science and art, and in my ways of getting thing I want to possess. But the study of the Law of God, the knowledge of God and of religion, make little impression on me, and satisfy no hunger of my soul. I regard these things not only as a non-essential occupation for a Christian, but in a casual way as a sort of side issue with which I should perhaps occupy my spare time at odd moments. To put it shortly, if love for God is recognized by the keeping of His commandments (If you love me, keep my commandments, says our Lord Jesus Christ), and I not only do not keep them, but even make little attempt to do so, then in absolute truth, the conclusion follows that I do not love God.
2) I do not love my neighbor either. For not only am I unable to make up my mind to lay down my life for his sake (according to the Gospel), but I do not even sacrifice my happiness, well-being and peace for the good of my neighbor. If I did love him as myself, as the Gospel bids, his misfortunes would distress me also, his happiness would bring delight to me too. But, on the contrary, I listen to curious, unhappy stories about my neighbor and I am not distressed; I remain quite undisturbed or, what is still worse, I find a sort of pleasure in them. Bad conduct on the part of my brother I do not cover up with love, but proclaim abroad with censure. His well-being, honor and happiness do not delight me as my own and, as if they were something quite alien to me, give me no feeling of gladness. What is more, they subtly arouse in me feelings of envy or contempt.
3) I have no religious belief (believe in God's Word). Neither in immortality nor in the Gospel. If I were firmly persuaded and believed without doubt that beyond the grave lies eternal life and recompense for the deeds of this life, I should be continually thinking of this. The very idea of immortality would terrify me and I should lead this life as a foreigner who gets ready to enter his native land. On the contrary, I do not even think about eternity, and I regard the end of this earthly life as the limit of my existence. The secret thought nestles within me: Who knows what happens at death? If I say I believe in immortality, then I am speaking about my mind only, and my heart if far removed from a firm conviction about it. That is openly witnessed to by my conduct and my constant care to satisfy the life of the senses. Were the Holy Gospel taken into my heart in faith, as the Word of God, I should be continually occupied with it, I should study it, find delight in it and with deep devotion fix my attention upon it. Wisdom, mercy, love, are hidden in it; it would lead me to happiness, I should find gladness in the study of the Law of God day and night. In it I should find nourishment like my daily bread and my heart would be drawn to the keeping of its laws. Nothing on earth would be strong enough to turn me away from it. On the contrary, if now and again I read or hear the Word of God, yet even so it is only from necessity or from a general knowledge, and approaching it without any very close attention, I find it dull and uninteresting. I usually come to the end of the reading without any profit, only too ready to change over to secular reading in which I take more pleasure and find new and interesting subjects.
4) I am full of pride and sensual self-love. All my actions confirm this. Seeing something good in myself, I want to bring it into view, or to pride myself upon it before other people or inwardly to admire myself for it. Although I display an outward humility, yet I ascribe it all to my own strength and regard myself as superior to others, or at least no worse than they. If I notice a fault in myself, I try to excuse it. I cover it up by saying, 'I am made like that' or 'I am not to blame.' I get angry with those who do not treat me with respect and consider them unable to appreciate the value of people. I brag about my gifts: my failures in any undertaking I regard as a personal insult. I murmur, and I find pleasure in the unhappiness of my enemies. If I strive after anything good it is for the purpose of winning praise, or spiritual self-indulgence, or earthly consolation. In a word, I continually make an idol of myself and render it uninterrupted service, seeking in all things the pleasures of the senses, and nourishment for my sensual passions and lusts.
The wise Priest had obviously been through the ringer. How many know what that actually means? When I was a kid, after you washed your clothes you "ran them through the ringer." The "ringer" was made of two long twirling cylinders with no space between washing_lrgthe
m. We'd slip the end of a piece of wet clothing into the ringer and and they'd get sucked through and the excess water would be rung out. That is what it means to be put through the ringer. That being said, when the Priest saw these 4 things in himself, he was wrung out by God. And when the Pilgrim was confronted with them, he was too. When I read it, it made me do some thinking and repenting.
That's about all I'm going to do with this one. If you'd like to read the book you can find used copies here: http://www.abebooks.com/servlet/SearchResults?isbn=0816420696&sts=t&x=33&y=15
I love this little book and trust if you pick one up you'll enjoy it too. Oh, for all my old Protestant friends that are etching crosses over the screen of my blog because I talked about a Priest and confessing to him, fear not. When we go to a Priest to make confession it isn't to ask him for forgiveness, it is to ask him to listen and pray and counsel with us as we confess to God. If you want to keep it entirely honest in your life, quit confessing your sins in private and start confessing them to the same person every couple of months. You'd be amazed what a little accountability will do for you.
