Here I stand

"Martin, what is it you seek?"
"A merciful God! A God that I can love! A God who loves me..."
"Then look to Christ...bind yourself to Christ, and you will know God's love. Say to him, "I am Yours - save me!"
(Johann von Staupitz to Martin Luther, in the movie Luther)

I know that story.

It is my story, too.

When I first heard of Martin Luther's faith struggles in the classic book Here I Stand, I knew I had found a kindred soul. Like him, I felt driven to church by the pangs of guilt and shame, and the fear of hell. Like Luther himself, I knew that there was never going to be enough penance that I could ever do to keep myself clear of the flames. Like brother Martin, this revelation of Scripture hit me like a thunderbolt:

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God – not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. (Ephesians 2:8-10, NIV)

Do you feel like God's workmanship? I sure don't, most days.

Courtesy of a real winter storm this weekend, I had two complete days of freedom. I could have cleaned my room, and rearranged it the way I wanted. I could have read any of two dozen spiritual classics: everything from Luther himself, to Henri Nouwen, to Robert Foster, to Brian McLaren. My one selfless act of the weekend, shoveling out our building's front step and back-porch stairways, was obliterated less than an hour later by another wave of snow. The rest of the weekend was spent absorbed by the latest shipment from Netflix, including seven back-to-back episodes of Stargate SG-1.

My friend Chris over at Radio Rebellion wrote this little gem that convicted me in a big way. I, too, keep singing the song, "(I'm Coming Back to)The Heart of Worship," but so often I get derailed by my own desire to just walk away, to escape. I've done it with booze, with prescription drugs, with food, with work - hell, I've even done it with study. In the end, all I ever really want to avoid is the voice of judgement - my own voice - telling me what a failure and a fraud as a Christian I have been (and still can be). And in the end, all that I escape is the knowledge of God's love for me...which in the end is the only thing that can heal me.

That's why I've had such a love/hate thing with the movie Luther. This 2003 version of the story of Martin Luther's life has been on my desk all weekend, and yet somehow I watched all my other escapist sci-fi stuff before I even thought to watch it. Admittedly, I did ask several of my fellow students if they were interested in watching it with me...but all to no avail.

So finally, on Sunday night, I broke down and slipped it in - knowing full well that I would see myself in almost every scene. My struggles with the Catholic church (as I understood it, growing up), my struggles with the hypocrisy I saw in the church (that mirrored my own), my questions about God, and my calling (and my fear of God's answers to those questions) - it was all there.

I'm not sure I'd ever be as courageous under fire as Luther was. (And I'm very sure I'll never be as good-looking as Joseph Fiennes!...) But I know that I am not alone in my struggles - and that my solution, in the end, is the same one Martin found five hundred years ago. I may never again be a candidate for Lutheran pastorhood - but I will always be a minister in Luther's footsteps. Loud, brash, obnoxious - and driven forward by the lash of faith...with you, Br'er Martin, I can say, "Here I stand."

(And if you haven't seen the movie, do yourself a favor and see it. And then thank the good folks at Thrivent for making sure it got made.)