Deus Misereatur

Recently I was reading a Catholic author on prayer, Romano Guardini, “The Art of Praying”. As he was laying out the importance of having a routine for prayer, especially the “time for prayer”, he brought out what follows: “Six days of the week are dedicated to work, one to rest. On working days man is bound by duty, on the seventh day he is free. ( . . . ) Sunday, therefore, is the day of God and, for this very reason the day of man. Its meaning has been largely forgotten. In our modern age it has become a day of vaguely festive character and ultimately merely an occasion for recreation and pleasure” (25). I appreciated his observation and recognition. The Lord’s Day has fallen into the utilitarian trap of “what works for me” and so it has lost most of its vitality and meaning. It is only a matter of time before it is discarded all together. But if the Lord’s Day is primarily the Lord’s day, that changes things. Then it truly becomes the day of man, because “The Sabbath was made ...

There’s just something about losing your voice! It’s in the frustration and isolation that is often imposed by seasonal vocal limitations that you begin to get a sense of the value and soul-deep joy of being able to express your desires in an audible, coherent way. Truly, there are times when having our sentiments and hearts wrapped in silence is good. But there are just some prayers, some praises, some crying out, some emotions, some conditions that holler for audible expression, an audible expression that goes beyond the squeaks and gibberish of squirrels, mice or laryngitis. Much of our worship is audible for very good reason. If we are truly made in the image of God, then verbal communication seems to be part of that image. “God said, “Let there be…” (Genesis 1), or “Indeed, He sends out His voice, a mighty voice” (Psalm 68.33b). In fact, all of Scripture presupposes that God is a communicative God, declaring, warning, affirming, directing. Therefore man is a communicative being...