My dear congregation,
An army of locusts has devoured the land. All Judah’s fields are stripped. Vines give no grapes, trees yield no fruit. Even the beasts of the fields are lamenting that the streams were dry. The prophet saw something more dreadful: “The day of the LORD cometh, for it is nigh at hand.”
And what should Judah do, in light of that great and terrible day?
“Rend your heart.”
Everyone in Israel knew how to rend. Both hands would grasp the cloth atop the breastbone and pull to tare it out and open. A sign of inward grief.
Yet, man being what he is, can do all this, and his heart remain stone.
So much religion can occur in the show. His face grows solemn. His voice slows and lowers. His body enters a posture. There may even be fasting and weeping. And still, the heart is unbroken.
“Rend your heart.”
Because, a garment is easily sown back up! A broken heart, not so easily. When we afresh, see who we are in ourselves, we can’t return to our former selves, can we? We have seen what lives within. We know what has wounded us, polluted us, tempted us in our flesh. Something opens which we can’t sew shut. Streams of vile pollution.
We also confess the perimeters of sin more easily. General weakness, sin, and failure. However, for the child of God, the conscience has particular words. We know the sin that so easily besets us. General confession is whitewashing. Or, to go further (but not far enough), we rend our garments just a little bit. A small rip, a stitch or two. Our heart heals best, when we confess particulars.
Honesty is painful, so where is the balm?
“And turn unto the LORD your God.”
A good rending is “unto the LORD your God.” Many time, I have told you of a kind of self-examination that curls the soul inward on itself. There is a rending that does the same. All discovery is left inside our soul as a weeping wound. Joel directs that heart away, toward the LORD your God. The God of your baptism, your confession, and your faith. Dear one, the heart breaks first before God, and then breaks toward God. Why?
“For he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness.”
What blessed ground. God tells us what He is like, so that the broken hearted will taste who He is. Can you not see that this command comes from the heart of God who declares Himself gracious AND merciful? He knows we will mourn, so His mercy calls us to His tenderest attributes. Oh, we are so slow to believe!
Dear ones, our deepest hindrance may be our secret suspicion of God Himself. We fear what He will do, because we do not understand Him well enough to trust His Word.
The Lord says, “Turn ye EVEN to me.” As if to say, see in me my most gracious parts. I hold them out before you. I lie not. My anger toward your sin is slow because of my great kindness.
At the Lord’s Table we will see bread broken and wine poured out, which is the greatest of all great kindnesses. By partaking, we are reminded that our peace required more than an outward show. Our beloved Savior, gave His body and shed His blood for us. He carried all our sins with courage.
Can we cherish a rended garment and an unbroken heart? Or, this communion season, can we be satisfied with a broken heart that does not turn?
No, we will rend our hearts. We will come naked to be clothed upon of Him. We will tell Him all the truth He already knows.
The soul which rends Godward, will find mercy and grace waiting.
Your friend and pastor,
J. Lewis
Very soul searching and very needful for ever child of God to consider daily, not just for communion.