In the opening Collect of the Day, the collect for this day, we pray: "Almighty God, you know that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves: Keep us both outwardly in our bodies and inwardly in our souls, that we may be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul." "Almighty God, you know we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves." The Collect for the Day expresses our belief that God himself knows we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves. It is the wonderfully joyful prayer of human relief. God does not require or even expect us to be able to help ourselves. Doubtless God knows that, but I wonder if we know that. Really know it. The Collect is supposed to express our modest and faithful admission to God, and to ourselves that we realize what he realizes--that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves. But is that really what is happening, is that occurring among us and for us? I wonder. If we are living by grace, or at least making some attempt to do that, we probably admit that we have no power in ourselves to save ourselves, to redeem ourselves, At our best and most modest, we probably also realize that we have no power to fix ourselves, to refashion our intentions fully, to amend our lives completely . We probably do admit we have no power to do it all. But do we really admit that we have no power even to help ourselves, no power in us even to lend a hand in the great endeavor of our salvation, our healing, our restoration and redemption? We cannot even help God as he goes about his loving business of keeping us, defending us from the full consequences of all the dreadful things that can happen to us, from the evil that can assault us, from the hurt which can happen to our souls. We are the ones who make a mess of things, and he is the one who cleans it up, and we cannot even lend a hand, we have no power, in ourselves, to help. No, I am not at all sure that we really do believe that. But that is what we are supposed to believe, the Church thinks that is the truth--about God, about ourselves. There was a cute little cartoon in one of my magazines last week. A sad-looking little guy is browsing through the human potential section of a typical modern bookstore. The top shelf is labeled "Manuals for Self-improvement", the next shelf is labeled "Manuals for at least holding your own". The Christian Church says you can do neither, do not even try. You do not have the power. Not even to help. When a loving parent is confronted with a very young and incapable child's offer to help, it seems to this bachelor that that must be a sad and dreadful moment in which out of love the parent acquiesces to the offer of assistance for the sake of the child's dignity and self-respect. And a reasonably well behaved host will usually find something appropriate to permit the eager and caring guest to fulfill his offer: Can I help you with something?". I can only guess how much God dreads our sweet offers to help him out with our lives. Like a good mother or a perfect host, God is surpassingly gracious enough to let us help, though it is not necessary, and even though it makes his activity more complicated, more drawn out, more inconvenient for him, I suspect, than if we simply sat quietly while all was being prepared for us. But we do so feel that we have to lend a hand. But in repeating over and over again that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves, the Church really means, I feel certain, that we are talking about the beginning, the first move, to defend, to safeguard our selves, our souls and bodies. That really does belong to God alone. That first move. But there is, certainly, the other part, the responding, the reaction, the acceptance into our lives and our faith of the gracious offering and activity of God. We and we alone are the decisive factor at that point. The doctrine of grace is adamant on two points--God and God alone can do it, we cannot. But we, and we alone, can allow it. He will not force it, assign it, insist on it. He will defend, restore, redeem, save, if we permit it. We can refuse, and he will accept that stubborn, sinful refusal. We have no power in ourselves to help ourselves, but we do have the power, given by God, to say "No" to his help. To refuse to allow him to do it for us. That is the power we have, and one we often exercise. And that is the business of our religion and the function of our faith--helping us to overcome our refusal to accept his help, when we can not begin to help ourselves. The Church's teaching on grace has a surpassing reassurance and a devastating warning. We cannot do it, but we can refuse it. In my present life, in my recovery, I hear time and again such simple little things. One of the simplest, and one of the best known, is a much-used phrase, "Let Go, and Let God," the godly admonition to let go absolutely, not partially, not overwhelmingly, absolutely. Not to allow God some role in helping, a large and critical and substantial role, but rather the only role, to admit with the collect that have no power in ourselves even to help all--it is all, always, and only up to him, he and he alone can do it. We cannot even help out. I can only modestly, gratefully, joyfully receive, respond, accept his power keeping us - outwardly in our bodies and inwardly in our souls. On this Third Sunday in Lent, the Church clearly reminds us that we have no power to do it ourselves, no power even to help. But it also reminds us with care and great caution to allow God to do it for us, permit him, accept his saving help, which we so badly need. We have no power to save redeem or even improve ourselves. We do not have to power to accomplish that, we do not have the power to help. But we do have the power to stop it all.