A white pastor’s lament, repentance, and Advent prayer… Cyon Edgerton

A white pastor’s lament, repentance, and Advent prayer… by Cyon Edgerton

Heavenly Father, who created us in your image, how long will your Church be of this world and not just in it?

You called us to be faithful, and fruitful, and to multiply and fill the earth.

You called us to care for your creation and all things in it.

You called us to make disciples of all nations.

You knew that in our own strength we could not fulfill these commands, so you promised to be with us always.

And yet, we must lament the state of your church...

Your church is broken. Where are you, Lord?

Your bride is hurting. Where are you, Lord?

Your people are divided. Where are you, Lord?

Your creation is pillaged and prostituted. Where are you, Lord?

We have chosen politics and progress over peace.

We have chosen success over your Spirit.

We have sought power, position, and privilege more than your presence.

We have climbed onto platforms rather than knelt at your feet.

We have colonized your gospel and bastardized your mission.

Lord, we are lost. And we are sorry.

We have strayed. And we are sad.

We are prideful. And we are ashamed.

We are selfish. And we are heartbroken.

You have every right to reject us.

Deny us.

Turn your face from us.

Destroy us.

And yet, you haven't left us yet.

Father, we confess and repent of our self-serving ways.

We repent of every picture of a blue-eyed, blond-haired, white Jesus hanging in a church foyer.

We repent of every woman who has been told she has no authority in your church.

We repent of every dollar spent on marketing strategies, fancy lights, swag bags, and hoodies with church logos on them that only served to make OUR name great rather than being used to further YOUR mission.

We repent of bigger and better buildings built in ways that rob the earth of her resources and leave a carbon footprint rather than leaving your imprint behind.

We repent of our segregated Sundays.

We repent of hours spent in committees debating whether we should have chairs or pews.

We repent of spending more time training volunteers to craft perfectly foamed lattes than we spend training them to love their neighbors.

We repent of dismissing the sleeping homeless from the steps of our churches so that guests won't feel uncomfortable or be forced to face the depths of their apathy.

We repent of twisting your holy scriptures in order to support and promote our own agendas.

For these sins and countless others, Father, we repent.

Lord, we need you.

We need you to upset our plans.

We need you to prevent our progress.

We need you to stay our success.

We need you to open our eyes.

We need you to break our hearts.

We need you to convict our souls.

We need you to divert us. Redirect us. Heal us. Restore us.

Father, you are good. You do not forget your people even when we forget you.

You have saved us before and you will do it again.

You have redeemed us before and you will restore us once more.

You are not deaf to our cries.

You are not impervious to our waywardness.

Father, we are waiting.

Sorrowfully waiting.

Expectantly waiting.

Hopefully waiting.

Father, we worship YOUR will, not our own.

We glorify YOUR goodness, not our own.

We celebrate YOUR successes, not our own.

We remember with thanksgiving your deliverance.

We praise you for all you are doing in our midst even now, and for all the ways you will rescue, redeem, and restore us even still.

Amen.

Bio:

Pastor, writer, wife, neighborhood Maestra. Committed to coming alongside churches who are learning to decolonize the gospel. Devoted to coming alongside families desiring to break generational curses and live into fullness. Loyal to Jesus, justice, and the quiet, slow, steady work of transformation.