An old preacher story has it that a man new to town went from church to church looking for a spiritual home. None seemed to fit. At one, he arrived a little late and heard the congregation intoning the words of Paul: "The good I would, I do not, and the evil I would not do, I do."
He slipped into a pew with a sigh and said, "My kind of people at last."
I don't suppose that would happen today. Hardly anyone uses a prayer of confession anymore, in either private or public worship. But whether I acknowledget it or not, those are my people.
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