“Confessing in Confidence” – sermon on March 16, 2014
March 16, 2014
Scriptures:
Psalm 32:1-8 What happiness for those whose guilt has been forgiven! What joys when sins are covered over! What relief for those who have confessed their sins and God has cleared their record. There was a time when I wouldn’t admit what a sinner I was. But my dishonesty made me miserable and filled my days with frustration. All day and all night your hand was heavy on me. My strength evaporated like water on a sunny day until I finally admitted all my sins to you and stopped trying to hide them. I said to myself, “I will confess them to God.” And you forgave me! All my guilt is gone. Now I say that each believer should confess her sins to God when she is aware of them, while there is time to be forgiven. Judgment will not touch her if she does. You are my hiding place from every storm of life; you even keep me from getting into trouble! You surround me with songs of victory. I will instruct you (says the Lord) and guide you along the best pathway for your life; I will advise you and watch your progress.
Luke 5: 4-10 When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.”
“Confessing in Confidence” – sermon on March 16, 2014
Reverend Doreen Oughton
Today I continue my Lenten sermon series on various types of prayer by focusing on prayers of confession. I grew up in the Catholic faith, and the words still form on my lips so easily – “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned” – a scripted introduction to a private time of confession with the priest. And then there are the corporate prayers of confession, in which the church community makes a confession together, often at the start of worship. There is this from the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer: “Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone. We have not loved you with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves. Have mercy on us and forgive us.” Or from the Presbyterian Book of Common Worship: “Gracious God, our sins are too heavy to carry, too real to hide, and too deep to undo. Forgive what our lips tremble to name, what our hearts can no longer bear, and what has become for us a consuming fire of judgment. Set us free from a past that we cannot change; open to us a future in which we can be changed; and grant us grace to grow more and more in your likeness and image, through Jesus Christ, the light of the world. Amen.” These corporate prayers of confession are usually followed by words of a assurance of pardon, such as these: “Thank you for calling us back, for never giving up on us when we turn aside, for always loving us, even when we forget who we are and who you are. We know you, as the greatest Gardener of all, who has promised always to replant us in flourishing fields.”
You may have noticed that we do not have such a ritual in our liturgy. There is room each week for individuals to offer private prayers of confession during the period of silence before the morning prayer. Sometimes the morning prayer, or the Communion prayer of consecration includes words that acknowledge error or wrongdoing, and expressions of confidence that God loves us and continues to reach out to us in mercy and loving-kindness. I have preached on this topic before, and the overall tone of the feedback was that people are glad we do not include a formal prayer of confession, and do not want one. Some have felt hurt by previous religious focus on the sinful nature of humanity. Being told they are not worthy has harmed their sense of connection with God and church. Others believe that rote words of confession, recited because someone else printed them in the order of service, makes it a meaningless ritual.
Some have challenged the theology behind confession, put off by the idea of a God who is just waiting to catch us in sin, eager to punish us unless we crawl before him, beating ourselves up, acknowledging our unworthiness. I’m put off by the idea of such a God also, and can see how some religious put forth a vision of a vengeful, punishing God. But just because the practice of confessional prayer has been done badly in some times and some places does not mean it has to be done that way. It can be a valuable and meaningful practice. I am not here to advocate for a formal, corporate prayer of confession in our worship, but I do want to suggest that we each and all could benefit from a practice of confessional prayer, and suggest some ways to integrate such a practice into your life.
Our scripture readings this morning reveal two different reactions to confession. The psalmist is bubbling over with joy. He or she has confessed sin before God, has found the relief of forgiveness, and contrasts this joy with the burden and suffering of trying to hide the sin, to pretend it wasn’t there. And then we have Peter. I don’t get the impression that Peter was walking around burdened by guilt as the psalmist had been. But when the goodness of Jesus shined forth before him, he experienced the painful shadows under which he lived. He said, “Go away from me, Jesus, for I am a sinful man.” For the psalmist, the acknowledgment of sin cleared a path for reconciliation, but for Peter, awareness of his failings made Jesus’ closeness to him painful.
In a way that is not a fair comparison, because it was the awareness that struck Peter with such force, where the psalmist had been aware, acutely aware, long before sharing with God and seeking absolution. Peter does not seek absolution, but is afraid of the light, wants to retreat into the shadows in which he has lived. I wonder just what it was that Peter was confessing. Did he have some particular wrongdoings in mind? Had he stolen something from his partners, criticized his mother, gossiped about a friend, lied to his wife, lusted after a neighbor? Or was it the things left undone that came to mind – walking by a beggar, laughing – or remaining silent – at the racist joke, skipping Temple worship? Perhaps, perhaps. But maybe it wasn’t something specific, just an overall sense of unworthiness – a sense of having failed to become what he had hoped to become, of taking the easy way, of slowly losing his integrity, of become despairing or cynical about life. And what a contrast he sees in front of him – Jesus, a man who knows deeply about the abundance of life, a man who won’t compromise on his vision of the beloved community, and who insists that the kindom has come near.
It is also possible that Peter’s sense of unworthiness stems not from things done or left undone, but from having received messages all his life that he is unworthy. Sometimes people get that message from their families, or from their community, or from their religion. Perhaps he reminded his mother too much of his no-good father who left her. Maybe he looked different or sounded different as a child and was bullied. Perhaps the doctrine of original sin was promoted in his synagogue. There is a Psalm of Confession in the lectionary cycle for Ash Wed that says, “I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me.” This is not the kind of confession I would ever advocate. I do not believe God wants us to internalize these kinds of messages. I do not believe anyone is born guilty, a sinner at conception. I will grant that we are born into a sinful world and its power to envelop us in sin is overwhelming. But each person is created in the image of God, has the divine seed planted within, has the capacity to shine with God’s glory. But I believe that the things we do and the things left undone can and do make it hard for that seed to sprout; they can smear that image and dull our glory. What I love about this Gospel passage is Jesus’ reaction, or rather, non-reaction to Peter’s confession. He doesn’t say repent. He doesn’t recommend a ritual of sacrifice that might be pleasing to God – offer up two doves and the first fruits of your crop. He says simply, “Do not be afraid.” He doesn’t forbid Peter from retreating to the shadows, but calls him out into the light, invites him to enter the kindom, to join him in bringing the kindom to others.
As I approached this topic, I have been focused on an article I read in Christian Century about forgiveness. The author, Nicholas Woterstorff, asserts that forgiveness is a two-way engagement. He differentiates it from pardoning or excusing, or letting something go for one’s own well-being. For each of those things, it is an internal process and you don’t need someone to apologize in order to do it. The person who hurt you may not even realize he or she hurt you, and you accept that the harm wasn’t intentional. Or you realize that the person isn’t culpable because they were under duress or weren’t capable of doing better – like the small child lashing out. Or you hold the person culpable, believe the harm was intentional, but the anger and resentment is eating you up and so you just let it go. You are not seeking reconnection, you just don’t want all the bitterness. Mr. Woterstorff would not call these things forgiveness, and I appreciate his distinction.
He says that with forgiveness, the person who was harmed seeks engagement with the wrong-doer. The goal is to repair the relationship, to reconcile, to have a renewed relationship. If that end is attained, the person who was harmed does not hold it against the wrong-doer, does not build up extra protection against it, does not seek evidence of continued wrong-doing. And for this, the wrong-doing must be treated with moral seriousness. A wrongdoing must be acknowledged by both parties, the culpability of the person who has done wrong must be acknowledged by both parties. The person who did the harm must join with the person who was harmed in condemning the wrong-doing. He or she must repent. Repent means to turn around, go in a different direction. The person takes steps to avoid doing such harm again – sees the error of her ways and makes changes.
Now it is possible to repent – to turn around and make changes without actually confessing or apologizing. But in terms of repairing relationship it certainly makes a big difference to do both instead of just changing the behavior and hoping the person you hurt notices. This type of forgiveness seems more attainable when there is an open verbal apology along with a change in behavior.
I’ve been talking about relationships between people, but these prayers of confession are about our relationship with God. I believe God constantly pardons and excuses us – sees where we can’t help something, understands when we mean no harm. I do not believe God gets stuck in anger or resentment and does not hold on to our wrongdoings. I also believe that God stands always and ever willing to forgive us, truly forgive us – start a fresh new relationship with us, free of the smears of our wrong-doing. But God can not do so unless we repent – not because God is unwilling, but because it is a two-way engagement of moral seriousness. It is completely up to us. You might think of God’s forgiveness as electricity – always there but meaningless to us unless we actually plug into it. And the result ought to be what the psalmist declares – joy, relief, confidence, increased trust in and love for God and self. Now doesn’t that sound worthwhile?! Or as with Peter, the courage to start living a life of purpose and meaning, stepping out to accept Jesus’ invitation to full life in the kindom.
So how can we do it, and do it well? I suspect it might be different for different people – another case against a one-confession fits all practice. Perhaps during Lent you could try a few different things and evaluate them. Keep a journal of things done and things left undone. Commit to making one sincere apology a week to a person. Come to the Good Friday stations for reflection. Post a prayer of confession somewhere you will see it often, and let the words sink into you.
I would love to hear from you if you want to try something, how it works out, or if you have heard of or experienced confessional practices that leads to joy and renewal. Let us join together in bringing God’s glory to shine on this world. May it be so.
