A Prayer of Lament Over Our Sin

God’s Word says “the heart of the wise is in the house of mourning.” (Ecclesiastes 7:4) Let’s mourn together now over our sins, sins that brought grief to the Man of Sorrows. Would you pray with me?

Our gracious God and Heavenly Father,

You are the Sovereign Lord.
You made the heavens and the earth.
Your steadfast love endures forever.
Your steadfast love is better than life.

But we have failed to love You as You deserve.
Because of our sin, we ought to lament before You,
like a young woman dressed in sackcloth,
mourning the death of her husband.
But we don’t.
We so rarely, if ever, weep over our sin.

O Lord, our hearts are often cold to Your love.
Our minds are often numb to Your Word.
Our wills are often stubborn to Your ways.

O Lord, rend our hard hearts, we pray!
Help us to mourn our many sins.
Our words, and thoughts, and actions,
bear witness against us.
Our guilt has mounted up to the heavens.
And, Holy Father, the blood of Your Beloved Son,
the blood of Your anointed One,
should have been upon our heads.

It grieves us, Lord Jesus,
that because of us, Your sacred head was wounded.

It grieves us, Lord Jesus,
that because of us, Your sacred head was crowned with thorns.

It grieves us, Lord Jesus,
that because of our transgressions, You were pierced.

It grieves us, Lord Jesus,
that it was our sins that caused You grief,
that it was our sins that caused You sorrow,
that it was our sins that caused You pain.

And yet, wonder of wonders, You love us still!
O Lord, how could we ever doubt Your love for us?
You loved us when we were dead in our trespasses and sins.
You loved us with a love that is stronger than death.

O Father of mercy, You sought us in our rebellion,
You drew near to us in the gospel of Your Son,
You showered us with grace.
You covered us with compassion.
You robed us with righteousness.
You rescued us from the domain of darkness.
You transferred us into the kingdom
of Your Beloved Son,
In whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

We deserved to be cast out,
where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.
We deserved to be cast out into outer darkness.

But through Your Beloved Son and by Your blessed Spirit,
You have turned our mourning into dancing.
You have raised the poor from the dust.
You have lifted up the needy from the ash heap.
You have welcomed us with the open arms of grace.
You have brought us into Your banqueting house,
and the banner over us is love.

We had orphaned ourselves because of our rebellion,
But You have adopted us to Yourself.
You have seated us at table with the King of kings,
Not as a guest, but as a child at home,
so that in the coming ages
You might show the immeasurable riches
of Your grace in kindness towards us
in Christ Jesus our Lord.

O Lord, You have promised:
“Blessed are those who mourn,
for they shall be comforted.”
O, hasten that day of comfort;
When sorrow and sighing will flee away,
When You will wipe every tear from our eyes,
When we will finally see You face to face,
When our hearts will rejoice,
And no one will take our joy from us.

Until that Day, O LORD, bless us and keep us,
Make Your face to shine upon us and be gracious to us;
Lift up Your countenance upon us and give us peace.
Through Jesus Christ our Lord,
who lives and reigns with You,
together with the Holy Spirit,
One God, forever blessed and forever praised. Amen.

“The second­-century world is, in a sense, our world” by Carl Trueman

“It is appropriate that Christians who acknowledge that they have a religion that is both rooted in historical events and transmitted through history via the church ask whether there is an age that provides precedent for the one in which we live.

Nostalgic Roman Catholics might point to the high medieval period, when the papacy was powerful and Thomas Aqui­nas’s thought offered a comprehensive synthesis of Christian doctrine. Protestants might look back to the Reformation, when the Scripture principle galvanized reform of the church.

But neither period is truly a plausible model for the present. The pope is not about to become the unquestioned head of some united world church to whom secular princes all look for spiritual authority; Thomism is not about to unify the field of knowledge; and the Reformation unleashed religious choice on the world in a manner that meant the Reformation itself could never again occur in such a form.

If there is a precedent, it is earlier: the second century.

In the second century, the church was a marginal sect within a domi­nant, pluralist society. She was under suspicion not because her central dogmas were supernatural but rather because she appeared subversive in claiming Jesus as King and was viewed as immoral in her talk of eating and drinking human flesh and blood and expressing incestuous­ sounding love between brothers and sisters.

This is where we are today. The story told in parts 2 through 4 of this book indicates how a pluralist society has slowly but surely adop­ted beliefs, particularly beliefs about sexuality and identity, that render Christianity immoral and inimical to the civic stability of society as now understood.

The second­-century world is, in a sense, our world, where Christianity is a choice—and a choice likely at some point to run afoul of the authorities.

It was that second­-century world, of course, that laid down the foun­dations for the later successes of the third and fourth centuries. And she did it by what means?

By existing as a close­-knit, doctrinally-bounded community that required her members to act consistently with their faith and to be good citizens of the earthly city as far as good citizenship was compatible with faithfulness to Christ.

How we do that today and where the limits are—these are the pressing questions of this present moment and beyond the scope of this volume. But it is a discussion to which I hope the narratives and analyses I have offered here might form a helpful prolegomenon.”

–Carl R. Trueman, The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self: Cultural Amnesia, Expressive Individualism, and the Road to Sexual Revolution (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2020), 406-407.

“The task of the Christian is not to whine about the moment” by Carl Trueman

“This book is not a lament for a lost golden age or even for the parlous state of culture as we now face it. Lamentation is popular in many conservative and Christian circles, and I have indulged in it a few times myself.

No doubt the Ciceronian cry “O tempora! O mores!” has its therapeutic appeal in a therapeutic time like ours, whether as a form of Pharisaic reassurance that we are not like others, such as those in the LGBTQ+ movement, or as a means of convincing ourselves that we have the special knowledge that allows us to stand above the petty enchantments and superficial pleasures of this present age.

But in terms of positive action, lamentation offers little and delivers less. As for the notion of some lost golden age, it is truly very hard for any competent historian to be nostalgic.

What past times were better than the present? An era before antibiotics when childbirth or even minor cuts might lead to septicemia and death?

The great days of the nineteenth century when the church was culturally powerful and marriage was between one man and one woman for life but little children worked in factories and swept chimneys?

Perhaps the Great Depression? The Second World War? The era of Vietnam?

Every age has had its darkness and its dangers. The task of the Christian is not to whine about the moment in which he or she lives but to understand its problems and respond appropriately to them.”

–Carl R. Trueman, The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self: Cultural Amnesia, Expressive Individualism, and the Road to Sexual Revolution (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2020), 29-30.