In many Sunday worship services, there’s a moment when you’re invited to a time of silent confession of sin. And maybe, in that moment, there’s something that is recent enough, “live” enough, that you haven’t quite forgotten it yet: The unkind, irritable words you spoke in the car on the way to church. The wave of resentment that crashed over your heart when you saw someone across the room just a few minutes earlier. And in that moment, the Lord invites you: Talk to me about that.
But here’s my theory about times of silent confession: in those moments, I think many of us draw a blank. The invitation to confession feels like an unwelcome intrusion into a mind and heart that are not eager to re-examine things already buried, rationalized, and forgotten. So in the moment, we can’t think of anything. Many of us do not live our daily lives with an awareness of our present need for God’s grace.
Alternatively, when an awareness of our sin does intrude–when it can’t be so efficiently sorted and forgotten–then we are cast into shame. For a time, we’re deeply troubled and embarrassed, anxious that others not know, or if it was obvious and public that they wouldn’t remember what we’ve said or done. We keep secrets. Often we don’t even want to talk to God about these things. We just want to be distracted, to forget.
Perhaps this summarizes the situation well–many of us, even if we’ve been Christians for a long time, don’t know what to do with our sin. It’s either bury it or be torpedoed by it. But there’s another way.
To be clear: sin is not the beginning and end of who we are. There’s more to the story of every man and woman. But it is, unavoidably, a part of the story. And part of the way forward is learning what to do with it.
This is the paradoxical counsel the Scriptures give us: we need to have a steady, front-of-the-brain, daily knowledge of our sinfulness and need for grace, not just for “long ago, when I used to be a sinner,” but for today. We need to think about our sin more often. That may sound negative, gloomy, and soul crushing. But here’s the paradox: it’s not, because a growing awareness of my sin invites me into a growing awareness of the grace of God. Knowing more of my sin allows me also to know more of my Father’s love for me. It’s the pathway of openness, transformation, and freedom.
A little bit of counsel for those who are willing:
Begin by seeking to know your sin more deeply than you currently do. You’re under grace; you’re loved–so it’s possible to do this without fear. King David, in a time of deep conviction in his life, wrote, “For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me” (Psalm 51:3). That knowledge was the result of a breakthrough of grace in David’s life after a long season of rationalization that had left him oblivious to his sinful actions and the effects of those actions on the lives of others.
Similarly, if we are to know our need for Christ, it will be because the Holy Spirit has brought that need home to our hearts. So begin to pray: “Search me, and know my heart” (Psalm 139:23). God, of course, already knows your heart. But by praying this for several weeks, you are saying that you want to be known. You are daring to come out from under the bed and open the curtains. And as you are asking God to know you, you are also asking for the courage and grace to know yourself.
As you start to understand more about yourself in a deeper, truer way, what do you do with that knowledge? You speak it. In Psalm 32 David acknowledges, “When I kept silent, my bones wasted away.” It was killing him not to say it out loud. As David learned, it’s in speaking, naming out loud to God and to trusted friends in Christ what you are beginning to know, that you demonstrate a settled commitment to living in the light. You’re beginning to exhibit a readiness to inhabit a clear-eyed gospel realism about yourself and your need for grace. With the Lord’s help you are beginning to come to terms with your deepest daily need—for forgiveness and help. You grow in knowing that struggles with sin are an everyday part of your lived experience.
As you begin to talk to Jesus regularly about your sin, the Spirit calls you to do more than just describe the observable externals of behavior. He calls you to invite him to search your heart, to probe the deep places that your sin is finding room to grow.
When our kids were small, we sometimes offered them a penny for every dandelion head they picked from our yard. We had a lot of dandelions, so they could make a dollar pretty quickly. But of course, all that achieved was preventing the weeds from going to seed, so that the problem didn’t get worse. If you really want to address a dandelion problem, you need to get out your trowel and dig them up one by one by their roots.
My sin problem is a little bit like the dandelion problem in our yard. As long as I am only confessing my outward sins, progress will be limited. (“I lost my temper again, Lord. I’m sorry–I won’t do it again!” Of course you won’t . . . ) The Lord is inviting you to something deeper, a meeting of your heart with his. He wants to talk to you, and for you to talk to him, about the root sins, the deeper desires, fears, and attitudes of the heart from which the outward, observable manifestations of the problem spring. He wants to apply the grace of his gospel there, in those subterranean places, so that there might be deep freedom from patterns that have characterized you for a long time.
And lastly, what else do you do? You rejoice. What? Why rejoice? Because your Father who loves you, your dear Lord Jesus who is your most faithful friend, and the ever-present Spirit who is your profoundest ally, are all working together to roll back darkness in your life! In the short run, it seems like the exact opposite–you’re becoming aware of things about which you were blissfully ignorant, and it’s no fun. But the ice is melting. The sun is rising. “Our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed.” (Romans 13:11–12). The Lord is carrying out his redemption in your life. And showing you how much you need his grace is a significant piece in that blessed reclamation.
Is God Disappointed with me?
Do you have a hard time imagining that God looks at you with a warm smile of affection and delight? Does it feel like he must be disappointed in you? Many Christians struggle with embarrassment and shame due to their failures and sins, living with an internal voice that constantly reminds them of all the ways they don’t measure up.
