My dumb pride gets in the way of everything. Even yesterday's blog post - which was supposed to be largely about HUMILITY - gave me a little zing of pride as soon as I hit the "publish" button. I wondered if my writing would relate to anybody. I wondered if I had come up with an analogy that would really get the job done (because, you know, I'm just so brilliant...)
And then, as it often does, the pride turned into fear and self-deprecation..."Gosh darnit, you got too passionate again. You said too much. You were too wordy. You were too bossy. Why do you try to be clever. They'll probably just stop reading, because you're doing it all wrong..."
I want to start a discussion that God might use for His glory, but even subconsciously, my stupid pride tries to sabotage that goal. Please forgive me for me for any hidden, selfish motives. I know they're in there. I'm asking God to get rid of them, but they've become a familiar companion. Pray for me.
Maybe the best topic for today is "Lord Have Mercy."
This is probably the cornerstone phrase of Orthodoxy, as far as I can tell. It's repeated over and over (and over!) in Liturgy, it's laced throughout prayer books, and it forms the heart of the Jesus Prayer: "Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner."
"Lord have mercy" may be a surprising Orthodox cornerstone for those of us who used to look at "High Church" as pompous, arrogant, and removed from the true message of our need for God's grace. If you're like me, you saw repetitive prayer, ornate churches, and scripted liturgy as "vain religion," a form of legalism that does not emphasize (or perhaps even acknowledge) God's work of saving grace and mercy.
In actuality, the Orthodox seem to have a firm grasp on just how much we need God's mercy. They ask for it daily - even hourly - and seem to recognize that God's mercy really does offer us grace in every moment of the day. Truly, in what moment are we NOT in need of God's mercy? I can't name even one. And when in those moments, when I'm at a loss for words, I don't have to be clever enough to come up with my own. I don't even have to be clever enough to memorize something. Even children who can barely talk can remember the words, "have mercy on me."
What a beautiful and freeing gift.
Fr. Rohr wrote about the phrase "Lord Have Mercy" in a Huffington Post entry:
This is not a self-demeaning prayer, nor a self-defeating prayer, nor is it a dis-empowering prayer. Relying upon mercy, in fact, protects you from the arrogance and pride that wants to judge others, even in your mind. It situates you in freedom from any sense of your own sufficiency or superiority, and affirms a non-need to justify yourself, and thus keeps your heart open for others and for God. It is basically a prayer for detachment from the self, both mind and heart, and its endless games of self-validation. "Lord, have mercy" seeks validation only from God and not from any inner or outer attempts to be worthy, independently "good," or not-in-need-of-mercy.
My favorite (very slim) book about Orthodoxy is called The Illumined Heart, by Frederica Matthews-Green.
If you're at all interested in reading about Orthodoxy, I highly suggest this as a first read. It's easily read and intended for the modern Christian audience. I also have a copy you can borrow. :)
She writes a lot about the Jesus Prayer. I'll end this posting with a teaser from The Illumined Heart. Note that "..." indicates that I've jumped forward a bit to the next section, just for the sake of space and your time.
From the beginning, Christians had wondered how to implement St. Paul's command to "pray constantly." It was of course impossible to speak verbal prayers without ceasing, day and night, not that some people didn't try.
...
The Jesus Prayer arose as a way to practice unceasing prayer. It offered a short and simple form that can be repeated in an unhurried way no matter what else a person is doing. Since the prayer is silent and interior, it can be kept going in all situations.
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Murmuring like a brook, the prayer becomes the background music of every other thought and deed in life. It beats in the heart through long years, accompanying the believer at every moment.
...
This may sound a little craven to modern-day believers, for whom a healthy idea of repentance is still somewhat new. Yet the discomfort we feel is based partly on misunderstanding. This prayer doesn't ask Jesus for forgiveness, it asks him for mercy. We don't have to keep pestering Jesus to forgive us; if repentance is sincere, asking only once is enough, as was shown to the thief on the cross.
But mercy is slightly different. The Hebrew word is hesed, meaning "steadfast love," a love that perseveres to save the beloved. In Greek it's eleos, and "Lord, have mercy" is Kyrie, eleison. In that language it resonates poetically with elaion, olive oil, the medium for medicinal balm. The Good Samaritan bound the wounds of the beaten man with elaion. This healing mercy is an inherent attribute of Jesus, and it is steadfast and constant, streaming toward us ceaselessly.
The problem is not in God's willingness to have mercy, but in our forgetting that we need it. (emphasis mine) We keep lapsing into ideas of self-sufficiency, or get impressed with our niceness, and so we lose our humility. Asking for mercy reminds us that we are still poor and needy, and fall short of the glory of God. Those who do not ask do not receive, because they don't know their own need.
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