Monday, August 28, 2023

Confessing Together

 

Psalm107:17-22

2 Corinthians5:16-21

A Lutheran pastor once told me a story about the “new and improved” Lutheran book of worship that had just come out. 

It’s actually a bit of a tussle whenever the church puts out a new book of worship because it means the congregations have to learn new musical settings for the liturgy. And, believe it or not, a lot of the congregants don’t like change that much.

But apparently some of the members of this congregation thought they had found a silver lining. They noticed that the confession of sin was no longer a required part of the weekly worship service. It was now optional; they could confess their sins if they wanted to, but they didn’t have to.

Well, they immediately brought this to the pastor’s attention. Because it seemed as though he had overlooked this important piece of information. He just looked at them and smiled. He said, No, actually, it isn’t optional. It might be the new and improved worship setting, but we’re still the same old and unimproved human beings. We’ll continue to confess our sins. Every week.

I guess I feel the same way this Lutheran pastor did. While it isn’t required in our Presbyterian worship – because in our Reformed worship there are very few things that are explicitly required – it is important in our faith and in our worship.

For Presbyterians, the confession of sin is strategically placed in our order of worship. It is one of the first things we do together on a Sunday morning, very simply because it is something we all need to do before we can enter the Word of God. Before we can hear the Word, before it can work in us, we need to remove any barriers that stand in the way. Pretending we are not sinners? That would be a major barrier.

So important is this act of worship, that some Presbyterian churches put the call to confession as the very first thing. It is as if to say you cannot even begin to worship God before you have made your confession.

The prayer of confession is, of course, a corporate prayer, meaning it is a prayer we make together as one body. And that is sometimes troublesome to some of us. Many times I have had someone approach me after the worship service to let me know that they have a bone to pick about some particular part of the prayer of confession. They will say, “I don’t do that, so I don’t feel I should have to confess it.” They might say, “That isn’t even relevant to me, and I am offended by the expectation that I should say it.”

It is true, of course, that some of the things we confess on any given Sunday we have not done personally. But we are confessing as a body; we are, in a way, all claiming responsibility for one another. We confess the sins of the church as a whole, and even sometimes the sins of humankind as a whole.

But even more, I would suggest to you that the corporate confession of sin gives each one of us an opportunity to search ourselves honestly and root out the hidden sin. The moment of silent confession gives a little time for that.

I know that the time of confession may not be the most upbeat and joyful part of our worship, but it can truly lead to joy. We confess our sin to God, we lift off the burden that is weighing us down, imprisoning us, and we rejoice in the glory of God, who is merciful and loving.

Because every time we enter into confession we immediately receive an assurance of forgiveness through Christ our Savior. In the words of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, “if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation.”

In fact, the reason we can confess our sin so freely is because our forgiveness is assured.

We confess as a church, together, for the sins of all. We each confess silently, for the particular sins we have committed. And for all of it we receive forgiveness. But it may feel, somehow, that the sin clings to us, even though we have confessed.

I have often heard it said that the problem is that we don’t forgive ourselves. We remain troubled by sins because we continue to hold ourselves in contempt, even though God has already forgiven. Friends will encourage us to be kinder to ourselves, to forgive ourselves so we can move on. I know this is true sometimes.

But Bonhoeffer raises a question that I find nags at me: When we have made our confession in the silence of our hearts, naming our particular sins in silence, are we, perhaps only confessing to ourselves? Is it possible that in this silent confession we are trying to grant ourselves absolution, leaving God and everyone else out of it? and is this, possibly, the real reason we feel unable to leave that sin behind?

Bonhoeffer makes a strong case for each one confessing their sin to another human being. Not a priest, because there is no special power that the priest has to wipe out our sins, but to a brother, or a sister, in Christ. To say them out loud to another, and, of course, that is something we don’t care to do.

We say that our sin is between ourselves and God, but there are actually so many ways this is not true. When we have wronged someone else, when we have failed to give our time and our talents to the work of the church, when we have been callous about the needs of others – in all these cases our sins are relevant to others. In truth, our sin is between ourselves and God and our community. In the community of Christ, we are all called to be as Christ to one another.

We often say in the Presbyterian Church that we are all ministers, and that is true in the Lutheran Church as well. We believe that, by virtue of our baptism we are empowered to share the good news of God’s grace; we are given the authority to offer the forgiveness of sin in Christ’s name. And we are strengthened to give strength to one another as we walk this path together. This is a ministry that we all share. As Paul writes to the Corinthians, “God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, has given us the ministry of reconciliation.”

There are moments in the life of a congregation when this act of reconciliation is crucial. A congregation where I once served went through a rough patch together. During that time people said things they should not have said. People did things they should not have done. There was a lot of hurt. Something needed to be done. So we held a healing service. We implored everyone to come, especially those whom we knew were suffering.

We made a prayer of confession a central part of our worship. We prayed together, using the printed words on the page of our bulletin. Then we took some time to move around the sanctuary to offer forgiveness to one another. We gave everyone as much time as was needed to approach the ones they wanted to approach, to say the words they needed to say, and to offer one another signs and words of forgiveness.

It was something that had to be done. These were not matters we wanted to carry around with us for years to come, like suitcases full of bricks. The church had to let it go and the only way to let it go was to ask for and offer forgiveness.

“If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.” We find these words in the first epistle of John, and it is a reminder we all need to hear: that our confession of sin is not an add-on. It is not just one of many options we might choose on any given day.

The church is sometimes called a hospital for sinners, because all of these sin-sick souls are in need of healing, which comes to us through forgiveness. Anyone is welcome here. No one is expected to get their act together before they walk in the door. Just as God loves each of us just as we are, we are each called to love others, just as they are.

The church is also sometimes called a school for saints, because every one of us recovering sinners is in need of spiritual nourishment, to grow in grace and love. That is our hope for anyone who walks through our door, no matter who they are.

Only in church can we do these things. Only in the community of Christ can we give to one another what is needed to heal and grow. That is why we are here.

I don’t know how I would live without the church, because it has always been there for me. It feels as though losing the church would be like losing my heart.

I say this, even though I know that being the church is never easy. The work of community is hard work. When we would rather sleep in, we are called to get up and go be with the community. When we would rather spend our cash on our own private pleasures, we are called to give to the work of the church. When we would rather walk away from a hard relationship, we are called to stay in it, working toward reconciliation.

But I must say this morning, the ministry of reconciliation goes beyond what happens between these four walls. After the news of another racist mass murder on Saturday in Jacksonville, we are reminded there is much need for reconciliation out in the world, and once again we see how excruciatingly painful this problem is. We live in a society where hatred is allowed to grow freely and flourish. So free that some even believe they are justified in killing others simply because they have dark skin. This is the sin of our nation, a sin we all share, and we must face it. Hard as it is, we must face it.

Only church asks these hard things from us. And only church gives us the surprising and precious gifts in return.

Together we are so much more than any one of us could be alone. Together we are the body of Christ our Lord – to him be all glory and dominion, forever and ever.

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