"This I Call To Mind"

"But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end..." (Lam. 3:21-22).

“Mary, what is that phrase, ‘Something, something, his mercy is more?’ “

My mom has dementia. I think she had been mulling over this question for a while before finally voicing it. She knew there was something important to be remembered, to be gathered from the entirety of it, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Caring for my mom as she is slowly lost to this disease has been one of the more difficult sorrows of my life, everyday a new challenge brought on by its cruel progression. Sometimes the grief of it is overwhelming, coming on unexpectedly as there is the daily disappearance of one who has been a steady presence in my life for the whole of my life, having a front row seat to precious memories now scattered. Most days she does not remember that my dad is gone. She forgets, sometimes, who I am for a moment, then recalls my name with a glad smile. Of all the things she is forgetting, it brought tears to my eyes to hear her grasping for this memory as I reminded her, “Our sins they are many. His mercy is more.”

“Oh yes!” She gladly exclaimed.

I love that it was the second part of that phrase that my mom recalled, the part about God’s mercy, because so often I get stuck on the first part, the part about my sin.

I have been so painfully aware of that sin lately- my failings as a mom, a wife, a daughter, a friend. Sometimes it overwhelms me, threatening to make me sink into the mire of self-condemnation. I was on that destructive path the morning my mom asked me this question. I had dressed for church with thoughts of just how sinful I was and wondered how I could dare join in worship. David, the psalmist, understood that difficult place and its fearful effects. He said, “For evils have encompassed me beyond number; my iniquities have overtaken me, and I cannot see; they are more than the hairs of my head; my heart fails me” (Ps. 40:12).

Those are some strong words. He is surrounded, overtaken, and blinded by his iniquities. Unable to count the vast number of his sins, David’s heart fails. I wonder which sins had him the most troubled when he penned this Psalm. Was it the man he had murdered or the census he had taken or the adultery he had committed? David was no stranger to sin or its grievous consequences. As king, his sins were on display. He was a man who had been humbled by a rebuke from the prophet Nathan, the sin he had so carefully hidden suddenly brought to painful light. I can imagine the crush of despair he felt when Nathan cried, “You are that man!” I can imagine the conviction that pierced David’s heart. “My sins they are many!” I can imagine his cry came forth, mingled with myriads who had lived before him and who would come after. What can account for so much sin, for thousands of years, for every soul that has ever lived?

Our sins they are many.

It is tempting to start here when we come to God in prayer. We think, sometimes, that much groveling will somehow lift us up to a place of forgiveness, that if we can just grasp the muchness of our sin, we will then grasp the muchness of God’s mercy. I was reminded the other night that this was Martin Luther’s approach to his own salvation as he strove to find redemption through an awareness of his great sin. Then he was arrested by the truth of Romans 1:17, “The righteous shall live by faith,” and God opened his eyes to the fact that righteousness was given as an undeserved gift because of the great mercy of God.

While Luther sought salvation by focusing on himself, he was shown that salvation came by turning his eyes to Christ, the one who had achieved salvation through the obedience of the cross.

David understood this, and his self reflection over the crushing weight of his sin is sandwiched between these amazing truths: “As for you, O Lord, you will not restrain your mercy from me; your steadfast love and your faithfulness will ever preserve me…Be pleased, O Lord, to deliver me! O Lord, make haste to help me!” (Ps. 40:11 & 13). No matter the far reaches of his sin, David knew God’s mercy and steadfast love and faithfulness reached further still. He knew the answer was not further condemnation on himself, but rather deeper reflection on God.

Luther is supposed to have said, when reflecting on God’s mercy, “If you pour a pailful of water on the floor of your house, it makes a great show, but if you throw it into the sea, there is no sign of it.” I think the sea is a fitting analogy for the mercy of God. Standing on its shore, you will observe that it reaches farther than the human eye can see. Exploring its depths you will find it is deeper than the human body can reasonably go. Considering its volume, you will be aware that it holds more than the human mind can fathom. That bucket of sin that so quickly floods the floor of my life is decisively swallowed by the sea of God’s mercy.

His mercy is more.

I have often thought of that conversation with my mom as I’ve gone about my day, getting weary and anxious over the many demands of life and my weakness in the midst of them. I think about my own forgetfulness- sometimes my mind is so full of my sin and failures and struggles that I forget how much God loves me, that I am forgiven, that he will never leave me or forsake me. My mom’s forgetfulness led her to a different place, a much better place.

With childlike glee, eyes shining with tears, she repeated, “Our sins they are many. His mercy is more." Then she paused. "That’s an amazing thought, isn’t it.” she wondered aloud.

“Yes, momma,” I replied. “That is an amazing thought.”

What love could remember no wrongs we have done?

Omniscient, all knowing, He counts not their sum.

Thrown into a sea without bottom or shore,

Our sins they are many, His mercy is more! (“His Mercy is More” by Matt Papa)