Confession - a Radical Reliance on God's Grace

 

Confession – a Radical Reliance on God’s Grace

Confession - a Radical Reliance on God's Grace - Audio/Visual 

If we claim we have no sin, we are only fooling ourselves and not living in the truth. But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness. If we claim we have not sinned, we are calling God a liar and showing that his word has no place in our hearts. (1 John 1:8-10)

Confession. The word conjures up a lot of different images. Backroom interrogations. Chinese water torture. Admitting dalliances to a priest who sits on the other side of a black curtain. Or maybe walking down the church aisle and filling out a card. Is that what John had in mind? I don’t think so.

Confession is not telling God what he doesn't already know. That’s impossible. Confession is not complaining – if I merely recite my problems and rehash my woes, I'm just whining. And confession is not blaming – pointing fingers at others without pointing any at me may feel good but it doesn't promote healing. Confession is a lot more than that. Confession is a radical reliance on grace; a proclamation of our trust in God's goodness. "What I did was bad," we acknowledge, "but your grace is greater than my sin, so I confess it."

The truth is that if our understanding of grace is small, our confession will be small, i.e., reluctant, hesitant and hedged with excuses and qualifications; a fear of punishment. But great grace creates an honest confession. Like the one by the prodigal who prayed, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you, and I am no longer worthy to be called your son." (Luke 15:18-19) Or the confession of the tax collector who begged, "God, be merciful to me a sinner!" (Luke 18:13) The best-known prayer of confession came from King David, even though it took him a very long time to offer it.

This Old Testament hero dedicated a season of his life to making stupid, idiotic, godless decisions. Stupid decision #1: David didn't go to war with his soldiers in the spring. He stayed home, instead, with way too much time on his hands and, apparently, romance on his mind. While walking on his balcony, he spotted Bathsheba, a bathing beauty, bathing. Stupid decision #2: David sent servants to chauffeur Bathsheba to his palace and escort her into his bedroom, where rose petals carpeted the floor and champagne chilled in the corner. A few weeks later she told him that she was expecting their child. David, still living in the fog of bad choices, continued his “winning” streak. Stupid decisions #3, #4 and #5: David deceived Bathsheba's husband, had him murdered and behaved as if he’d done nothing wrong. The baby was born, and David was still unrepentant. Yes, that David.

The man after God's own heart allowed his own to grow rock-hard. He suppressed his wrongdoing and paid a steep price for it. Later on, he would describe it this way: "When I refused to confess my sin, I was weak and miserable, and I groaned all day long. Day and night your hand of discipline was heavy on me. My strength evaporated like water in the summer heat." (Ps. 32:3-4) Sin's present reality had replaced sin's earlier euphoria. David began to see in Bathsheba not a picture of beauty, but a symbol of his own weakness. Could he see her face without imagining the face of her husband, whom he had betrayed and then had murdered? Most of all, could he look at her and not sense the gaze of God upon himself? He knew his secret sin was no secret at all.

Six Psalms later, he prayed, "O Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger or discipline me in your wrath. For your arrows have pierced me, and your hand has come down upon me ... there is no health in my body; my bones have no soundness because of my sin. My wounds fester and are loathsome because of my sinful folly. My back is filled with searing pain." (Ps. 38:1-3, 5, 7) Bury misbehavior and expect pain. Period. Unconfessed sin is like a knife lodged in the soul – you can’t escape the misery it inflicts. Ask Li Fuyan.

This Chinese man had tried every treatment imaginable to ease his throbbing headaches. Nothing helped. An X-ray finally revealed the culprit. A rusty four-inch knife blade had been lodged in his skull for four years. Apparently, in an attack by a robber, Fuyan had suffered lacerations on the right side of his jaw. What he didn’t know was that the knife blade that had caused the lacerations had broken off inside his head. That would certainly explain Li’s stabbing pain. Similarly, we can't live with foreign objects buried in our bodies, or in our souls. What would an X-ray of your interior reveal? Regrets over a teenage relationship? Remorse over a poor choice? Shame about the marriage that didn't work, the habit you couldn't quit, the temptation you didn't resist or the courage you couldn't find. Guilt lies hidden beneath the surface – festering; irritating. Sometimes it’s so deeply embedded that you don't even know the cause. You become moody and cranky. You're angry, irritable and touchy, all of which is perfectly understandable since you have a shank of shame rusting away in your soul.

Interested in an extraction? Confess. Request a spiritual MRI. "Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my anxieties; and see if there is any wicked way in me and lead me in the way everlasting." (Ps. 139:23-24) As God brings misbehavior to mind, agree with him and apologize. Let him apply grace to your wounds. But don't make this inward journey without God. Many voices urge you to look deep within and find an invisible strength or some sort of hidden power which is a dangerous exercise. Self-assessment without God's guidance leads to denial or shame, i.e., we can either justify our misbehavior with a million excuses, or design and indwell a torture chamber. Either justification or humiliation. We don’t need either one. What we need is a prayer of grace-based confession, like David's.

Finally, after a year of denial and a cover-up, he prayed, "God, be merciful to me because you are loving. Because you are always ready to be merciful, wipe out all my wrongs. Wash away all my guilt and make me clean again. I know about my wrongs, and I can't forget my sin. You are the only one I have sinned against; I have done what you say is wrong. You are right when you speak and fair when you judge." (Ps. 51:1-4) David had finally waved the white flag. No more combat. No more arguing with heaven. He came clean with God. So, how about you? Your moment might look something like this.

Bedtime. The pillow beckons. But so does your guilty conscience. An encounter with a co-worker turned nasty earlier in the day. Words were exchanged. Accusations were made. Lines were drawn in the sand. Names were called. Tacky, tacky behavior. You bear some, if not most of the blame. The old version of you would have suppressed the argument; crammed it into an already-crowded cellar of unresolved conflicts. The quarrel would have festered into bitterness and poisoned yet another relationship. But you aren't the old version of you. Grace is happening, rising like a morning sun over a wintry meadow, scattering shadows and melting the frost. Warmth. God doesn't scowl at the sight of you. You once thought he did – arms crossed and angry, perpetually ticked off. Now you know better.

You've been “Boazed” and bought, foot washed and indwelled by Christ. You can risk honesty with God. You tell the pillow to wait, and you step into the presence of Jesus. "Can we talk about today's argument? I’m sorry that I reacted the way I did. I was harsh, judgmental and impatient. You have given me so much grace and I gave so little. Please forgive me." There, doesn't that feel better? No special location is required. No chant or candle needed. Just a prayer. The prayer will likely prompt an apology, and the apology will quite possibly preserve a friendship and protect a heart. You might even hang a sign on your office wall: "Grace happens here." Or maybe your prayer needs to probe a little deeper.

Beneath the epidermis of today's deeds are the unresolved actions of years past. Like King David, you made one stupid decision after another. You stayed when you should have gone, looked when you should have turned, seduced when you should have abstained, hurt when you should have helped, denied when you should have confessed. Talk to God about these buried blades. Go to him as you would go to a trusted physician. Explain the pain and revisit the transgression together. Welcome his probing and healing touch and trust his ability to receive your confession more than your ability to make it. We all have an unruly perfectionist who indwells us raising cankerous doubts like, "Was my confession sufficient? Did I forget any sin?" Of course you did. Who among us knows all our violations?

Who of us have felt sufficient remorse for our failings? If the cleansing of confession depends on the confessor, we’re all sunk; none of us have confessed accurately or adequately. However, the power of confession lies not with the person who makes it, but with God who hears it. God may even send you to talk to the church. "Confess your sins to one another and pray for one another so that you may be healed." (James 5:16) James calls us to not only confess up to God, but to confess out to each other.

Like the church in ancient Ephesus, "many of the believers began to confess openly and tell all the evil things they had done." (Acts 19:18) And what was the result of their confessions? "So, in a powerful way the word of the Lord kept spreading and growing." (v. 20) People are attracted to honesty. Find a congregation that believes in confession. Avoid a fellowship of perfect people where you won’t fit in and seek one where members confess their sins and show humility; where the price of admission is simply an admission of guilt. Healing happens in a church like that. Followers of Christ have been given authority to hear confession and proclaim grace. "If you forgive the sins of any, they have forgiven them…." (John 20:23)

Confessors find a freedom that deniers don't. "If we say we have no sin, we are fooling ourselves, and the truth is not in us. But if we confess our sins, he will forgive our sins, because we can trust God to do what is right. He will cleanse us of all the wrongs we have done." (1 John 1:8-9) Did you hear the certainty of those words? "He will cleanse us." Not he might, could, would or has been known to. He will cleanse you. Tell God what you did. Again, it's not like he doesn't already know, but the two of you need to agree. And spend as much time as you need. Share all the details you can. Then let his grace flow over your mistakes and carry you to the place where God created you to be.

Grace,

Randy