confession

Growing up Protestant, I never quite understood why my Catholic friends went to confession. It seemed embarrassing, difficult, and...well, quite honestly, it seemed fruitless. If Jesus forgave me, why did I need to tell someone what I'd done? Wasn't it enough that Jesus knew? I also remember growing up with anxiety problems and having a long-running relationship with guilt. Now, I'm not saying that ten Our Fathers and ten Hail Marys are the answer to anxiety and guilt—I mean, that's so Old Covenant. But I am saying that while confession may be embarrassing and difficult, it's definitely NOT fruitless.

While Isaac talked Sunday night about confession, I realized that there was some sort of floodlamp shedding light on my life. Why do I always do things out of guilt? Why do I try to work my way into good graces? Why do I feel like I have to trick people into liking me? Why do I have this underlying sense of anxiety? Let's switch the light on and see—oh, looky there. I'm not a confesser. I'm not one who takes my confession to anyone other than my Heavenly Father. There is something powerful in The Church that Christ gave us: community. And confessing to them is part of the deal.

While we were at Passion in our Community Group, Francis Chan was talking about confession. I'd been pressed hard by God the entire week with the word "holiness," and when Francis brought up confession, it seemed to be a very integral part of holiness. I immediately looked around and—as if there had been a large neon sign with a flashing arrow pointing to them—I saw two very close friends that I trust unquestionably. During the next break I asked them if they wanted to form a three-person accountability group. Long story short (too late, I know), they said yes, and it's been incredibly life-giving. But here's the point, which is also the funny part: I'm not really comfortable with confession yet. When it's my turn to lay out the stuff I need accountability for, I close my eyes, put my head down, make fists, and tell them what I need to tell them with a scrunched-up look on my face. And I don't open my eyes until I hear their loving voices. I'm pretty sure I'll get better at it though, because I'm learning that revealing who I am and then seeing that they still love me imparts massive amounts of freedom and understanding of the word grace.

I've learned something over and over during the past few years, but it often hits me like a water balloon at the most unexpected times: Following God isn't about sticking to a set of rules because he said so. It's about his love for us and if we live the way he instructs us to live, it gives way to freedom. Freedom to be exactly who he made us to be. Freedom to be happy. Isaac said that God gave us confession to say, "I want to take the image of God that is in you and make it whole." Simply put, confession catapaults us right into falling deeper in love with God. Which is precisely the point.

Isaac gave us a list for "coming clean" with someone. I want to include it because it seems immensely valuable.

1. Prayer Of Examen: God, where have I failed to love you and love others?
2. Inventory: (a good tool to use is the Ten Commandments)
3. Confess: Not only what I did, but how and why.
4. Prayer Of Repentance: I'm sorry, and help me to be sorry for the things I'm not sorry for.
5. Statement Of Release: God has heard you. You are forgiven. Christ is remaking you and you are now embraced in his arms.
6. Prayer Of Gratitude: (self-explanatory)
7. Post Confession: Is there anything I need to go fix? And ripping up my inventory list.

One thing Isaac shared I'd pretty much known in my heart for a long time, but I'd never put words to it. When he said it, his words clicked with that feeling I'd known in my heart, and it was beautiful like that moment that the sunrise bursts over the mountain and sheds a warm orange glow on the entire valley.

He said, "God not only forgave my sin, but he also forgave the guilt of my sin."

Amen, and hallelujah.