Te iubesc, O Domnul meu...

This is one of those nights where I am thinking about a great many things, but I'll try to focus in on one theme and get to a coherent point...

Yesterday, I went with some friends to a homeless shelter in downtown Phoenix. We gave burritos to people and talked to them about God. Some conversations were better than others, but one was particularly intriguing. When asked what he knew about the gospel, this guy responded that most churches are not teaching people the basics. I had certain assumptions about where he was going with this and thought this might be a point of agreement (I think many churches do NOT teach people the basics). I was thrown for a loop when he said, "For instance, the letter J..." He went on to talk about the fact that Jesus' name in the original language is not Jesus at all, that the letter J didn't come into existence until 500 years ago, and that if we are praying to Jesus, our prayers will not be answered because that is not His name. No matter what we said, it was clear that he was stuck on this point. I was blown away. To me, it is so obvious that a God who intends to call some from every tribe, tongue, and nation, would not be bothered by a language "barrier," clearly not a barrier to Him. I even expressed to this man my own joy at being called a Romanian version of my name while in Romania - that this in no way changed who I was but seemed to immerse me more deeply into the culture I was in. This man's mind was unchanged, however, and he begged us NOT to pray for him when we finally walked away.

Tonight, I went to Apele Vii - the Romanian church I attend a couple times a month. I was very encouraged by every part of the service and thrilled that despite an exhausting day I was able to follow the Romanian sermon more successfully than usual. The part that most affected my heart, though, was while we were singing. It was a song in Romanian that I didn't know but mostly understood. The last line, which we sang repeatedly, was "Te iubesc, O Domnul meu," which means, "I love you, O my Lord." I was struck by the miracle that it is that I can sing those words, for several reasons. First of all, I was born a sinner and was incapable of loving God. He rescued me from my pursuit of sin and ultimately of hell, and he gave me a heart that is now able to love Him. Secondly, he is MY Lord. What right have I do have any sort of claim on the creator of the universe, a perfectly holy and righteous God? Only the right given me by the death of Christ on the cross, as he bore the wrath of God on my behalf so that I could be called His child. And on top of all of that, I am able to address Him as Domnul and know that the Lord hears my voice, understands that name, and responds to that worship. And I can know that those same things were true earlier in the day, when I praised Him in English. He doesn't only identify with blood descendants of Abraham, He doesn't only identify Himself as a God of the Hebrews and respond only to a Hebrew name. Instead, an American, English-speaking girl is able to worship Him alongside Romanian believers, and to have confidence that the blood that was spilt was not spilt for only one people group and was not affected by the creation of the letter J. Praise God!