“The confession of evil works is the first beginning of good works”.
 ~Augustine of Hippo

 I had an interesting conversation with a friend yesterday.  I began disclosing to her the awkwardness I felt immediately before opening up to her and a few other friends with regards to my heart and holding it close with regards to romantic prospects and relationships.  I knew that the direction the conversation was headed (we were talking about dating and relationships in general) would provide an opportunity to share and perhaps lend to a deeper understanding of the inner turmoil that can exist when desires and sin collide.  

I went on to tell her that on the brink of speaking I had a moment of question.  I wondered if sharing this part of my life would reduce my credibility in their eyes.  I want to be respected, but at the same time I found myself worried that my weaknesses might cause my peers to think less of me that evening.  I shared anyway… 

As I shared with my friend, I confessed to her the difficulty of being vulnerable (which was weird for me because there is much about my past and struggles that I’m honest and open about, especially those things that relate directly to my conversion from atheism to Christianity).  I also wanted to share with her my welcome surprise of freedom and strength that I actually got, not just from my sharing, but perhaps more so from the reception and encouragement/exhortation that I received from her and one of the guys that was sitting in on the discussion. 

What I shared that night, wasn’t so much a confession of current struggle or sin, but perhaps a weakness or past hurt that continues to, in some way, affect me and relationships I have with people.  Somehow discussing this led into a conversation on confession and the corporate discipline of confession – its place and its difficulty. 

James 5:16 tells us very clearly the mandate for confession with brothers - 

“Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.  The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.” 

There is something powerful and healing in confessing to another…yet my friend and I pondered whether or not this happens to any great extent.  

Unfortunately Christians are the first to put Christian leaders on pedestals, or put themselves on a type of pedestal (not always in the “better than you” sense, but definitely in the “no one can relate” or “I’m alone in this struggle” pedestal).  We are also, surprisingly, the first to throw stones when a Christian leader steps forward or is found in some great moral failure.  We are the ones who preach James 5:16, but we’re also the ones who seem to be the first to condemn and judge when one does step forward and confess.  

I wonder to myself if I would be as devoted to follow a pastor who stood in the pulpit and confessed a deep struggle to His congregation.  While I would love to hear the humanness of our Christian leaders, I wonder if, in my own sin, I would withhold from them the very Grace that I’ve been given so freely through Christ.  Unfortunately I think (based on my reactions to other leaders who were found in some kind of moral failure) I would judge them and consider them less credible.  I probably wouldn’t trust their church, their preaching, and their ministries…all because they revealed themselves as fallible, fallen people.    

I wonder if this dynamic of confession and diminishing credibility (or perceived/feared diminished credibility) acts to propagate a sense of non-confession.  We confess the spiritual sins while the deeper soul eating sins continue to live on when no one is looking.  We fear the very things I just said I would and have done in the past. 

Or perhaps, as I mentioned earlier, we lie to ourselves, placing us on a pedestal of isolation – thinking that we are the only ones going through this, or that no one will understand or relate.  We conceal our sins thinking that everyone is better than us or couldn’t possibly relate to this or that.  We never act on James 5:16 with regards to all areas of our heart and life.   

Or perhaps we have yet to recognize or call a sin for what it is – not a result of family or other people, but a sin that we own and acknowledge to be the struggle and problem that it is.  In other words, we remain blind to it – we dare not to own it…it lives on, secretly thriving in our lives. 

I think there is a great deal of humility in confessing sins…and that is something that is hard for us.  We don’t want to look like bad people, but often come out looking like hypocrites regardless of whether we confess or just wait until our sin is found out by the people around us.  

Richard Foster says this in his book “Celebration of Discipline“ 

“Confession is a difficult discipline for us because we all too often view the believing community as a fellowship of saints before we see it as a fellowship of sinners.  We feel that every one else as advanced so far in to holiness that we are isolated and alone in our sin.  We cannon bear to reveal our failures and shortcomings to others.  We imagine that we are the only ones who have no stepped onto the high road to heaven.  Therefore we hide ourselves from one another and live in veiled lies and hypocrisy.”

 With all this said, and knowing the sterotype of hypocrite and holier than thou amongst people outside of the church…perhaps true honest confession paired with The Grace extended to each of us through Christ is a key for increased credibility.  Perhaps it is confession, not perfection, that gives the greatest witness to sanctification and our need for Christ, both within the Church as well as to the world around us.