A Time For Confession

A Sermon Preached At Christ the King Chapel, CFB Suffield, Crown Village of Ralston, AB, 10 March, 2013, The Fourth Sunday of Lent.

Readings For This Sunday, Lectionary Year C: Joshua 5:9-12, Psalm 32, 2 Corinthians 5:16-21, Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not hide my iniquity; I said, "I will confess my transgressions to the Lord," and you forgave the guilt of my sin. Psalm 32:5

The last time I preached I said that I wanted to pay more attention to the psalms, and so my starting verse is from today's appointed psalm. Among other things, Psalm 32 is about confession, which is the naming of sin (those things we have done which trouble us, hurt others, and offend God), turning to God, and seeking his forgiveness.

The first two lines of the psalm speak of the benefits of confession: "happy are those whose transgression is forgiven". Lines 3-5 describe the process which leads one to confession: "While I kept silence my body wasted away through my groaning" (4). Line 6 describes the remedy for sin, calling on the faithful to turn in prayer to God who will save them "at a time of distress".

In our worship each Sunday, as in many churches, we practice confession together. We start by hearing scripture which reminds us of God's promises and faithfulness, and of his call to us to be his people. We are invited to co sider our sin, we confess it together, and then we hear the promise of God's forgiveness. In the last part of our worship, if it is a Eucharist, we are called to God's table as his dinner guests, receiving the bread and wine which we call communion, being united with God rather than being set apart from him.

The parable of the prodigal son from Luke, our gospel reading for today, works as an illustration of the psalm and of our own practice of worship. The younger son makes his decision to separate himself from the father, goes off, and then discovers, like the psalmist in lines 3-5, that he has made a bad decision and longs to return to the father. He goes back, makes his confession ("Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son" Lk 15:21) and finds forgiveness.

Confession as we practice it, with a short silence between the invitation to confession and the actual prayer of confession, is sometimes said to be too short, and can be perfunctory. Paul Myhere, a preacher and pastor, recalls one congregation he served where at least one person thought the act of confession was too short.

"In one of the many congregations I have served there was a practice for congregational members to lead most of the worship service. One particular layperson was fond of saying that the silent prayer of confession was usually too short. He claimed, “I have not even made it through Tuesday before they are announcing that I am forgiven.”

So when he led the worship service, the corporate prayer of confession -- including the silent prayer of confession -- would be longer than most people felt comfortable with experiencing. I think the discomfort in part was shared because the list of things for which any one person could confess is generally longer than an entire worship service might take."

If we prefer a short pause for confession, it may because we are indeed uncomfortable confronting the subject, because it frightens us. if we really think about what we have done, particularly those things that we are deeply troubled by or ashamed of, how can we be sure that we will find forgiveness from God, especially if we ourselves are unable to forgive ourselves?

If we prefer a short pause for confession, it may because we are indeed uncomfortable confronting the subject, because it frightens us. if we really think about what we have done, particularly those things that we are deeply troubled by or ashamed of, how can we be sure that we will find forgiveness from God, especially if we ourselves are unable to forgive ourselves?

If such is the case, the parable of the prodigal son reminds us that God's capacity to forgive is, fortunately for us, far greater than our own. It's been pointed out that by asking for his share of the inheritance, the son essentially says to his father, "I wish you were dead". And yet here is the father, scanning the horizon for his lost son, running to meet him on his return, and giving him an extravagant welcome. The whole point of the parable, like the ones that proceed it (the parable of the lost sheep and of the lost coin), is about the abundance of grace. As David Lose has observed, there is something almost pathetic in the father’s eagerness to forgive, something no one in Jesus’ lifetime would have done for such a grave offence. Lose writes: “Jesus is introducing people to the relational logic of the kingdom of God that runs contrary to and way beyond the legal logic of the world.”

On the other hand, it may be our short pause before the prayer of confession betrays a cavalier attitude toward the practice. One of the dangers of being reminded constantly of God’s grace, as we are Sunday by Sunday, is that we grow too comfortable with it. We assume that it will be automatically given to us, because after all, here we are in church. We must be the good guys, right? I think there are two traps in this attitude.

The first is a self-righteousness towards those who aren’t in church, and who aren’t seeking forgiveness, and if that is our inclination, then it’s helpful to remember that the occasion for this parable was to counter the grumbling of the Pharisees, who didn’t approve of the characters Jesus was hanging around with.

The second trap is an indifference to God’s grace. Marketers say that consumers attach no value to what is free, and therefore tend to disapprove of giveway promotions. As he was dying, a German poet was urged to confess his sins, and replied, “Of course God will forgive me,. that’s his job”. Why bother being Christian if we are automatically forgiven? Why come to church? Here it’s worth remembering that the opposite of indifference is gratitude. I think one definition of a Christian is a person who is surprised and delighted that God loves them so much. I think that idea is behind the Lutheran liturgy, which, before the absolution, has the pastor say “now humble your hearts to receive God’s blessing”.

There is probably not enough time in any Sunday morning for most of us to remain in silent reflection of our sins before hearing of God’s forgiveness. It’s fortunate for us that we don’t need this time. The Prodigal Son could have stammered out a lot of excuses and long apologies, but he didn’t have to. He was hurried off the road and brought into the banquet hall by his delighted and loving father. So it is with us. We bring our confession to God, hopefully with the sincerity and contrition that we owe to him, but instead of hearing words of judgement we hear “Welcome home, come to the table”.