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This Sunday’s gospel concerns a parable that Jesus tells about a Pharisee and a tax collector praying in the temple. The Pharisee is proud of himself, the tax collector is bereft with contrition, and utters, “God, have mercy on me a sinner.”, which became the Jesus prayer, “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have mercy on me a sinner.”

 

This has become, in some parts of Christianity, the basis for a prayer discipline, where this phrase is repeated, often using knots in a prayer rope to pace and mark one’s prayers. While at first it appears to be a confession of guilt (especially because, a better translation from the original Greek, “Have mercy on me THE sinner.”, since the article is definite, not indefinite), I find it to be a declaration of God’s mercy and forgiveness.

 

When I engage in this practice, I find that the gravity is less in saying the words with each knot, and more in the silence, the space between each knot. It is cause for a deep breath. I don’t actually use the prayer rope very much these days, for I have found that I have knots within me, maybe even bowling balls.  And so after the words of the prayer, in the spaces between, I offer to God these knots: 

 

I give you my loss.

I give you my joy. 

I give you my despair. 

I give you my hope. 

I give you my grief. 

I give you my thanks. 

I give you my life. 

I give you my death. 

 

Breath and then breath and then breath.

 

It helps my knots to unravel a bit, and my bowling balls become a bit lighter.

 

Too much to say in Sunday’s sermon, but a gift to you this day.

 

CJ+


 
 
 

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