Lent is here, again. And
once again I’ve struggled to come up with something to give up for these 40
days. But inspiration struck Sunday
evening during a sermon on confession: this Lent, I am letting go of my sin.
Ok, Kelsey, wow that sounds amazing. Pretty sure that if
you’re a Christian, Kelsey, Jesus already took care of that part. Like permanently. So you’ve got no worries.
You’re absolutely right.
Jesus has taken care of that. But
I’ll let you in on a little secret: sometimes I don’t act like I’m a Christian
liberated from sin. Sometimes, I hang on
to that sin and wallow in it.
Why? Because letting that sin go may hurt. Some sins I keep buried down deep, secrets I
keep hidden from the world and from God.
And confessing to that sin and asking for forgiveness could hurt, a
lot. So instead of confessing, I keep
quiet.
Confession. Say the
word aloud and savor the taste of it on your tongue for a moment. It’s not necessarily the best tasting word is
it? It’s kind of salty, a little bitter,
definitely not pleasant.
Unfortunately, this bitter flavor is a result of history and
culture, and not in fact the word (or act) itself. Our culture has warped the word into a
painful experience of admitting the bad things you’ve done aloud for everyone
to hear and potentially judge. Which is
why we avoid it so much! Instead, we end
our prayers with “Lord, forgive us of all our sins” and we flippantly throw
“I’m sorry, please forgive me” around.
But this is only to avoid the actual act of confessing, using the
blanket petition for forgiveness to cover the fact that we never confessed what
we did wrong.
Let’s go back to the root: God designed confession as an act
of healing, not punishment. We confess
our sins to him, not because he needs to hear it but because we do.
By confessing aloud and admitting to the fact that we have failed in
some manner and owning that, we are allowed to let that go and make room for
God’s grace.
Which brings me to Judas.
Yes, the Judas. Judas Iscariot, one of the chosen 12, was a
man who sinned. He was a man who knew
that he had betrayed a good and honest man, a man who knew he had led his
friend to his death. Judas knew full
well the act of treachery he had committed, and in the end hated himself for it. Jesus offered Judas healing and peace, but
Judas couldn’t accept it. Instead of
confession and forgiveness, instead of choosing his Lord and Life who was
standing right in front of him, he chose to hold on to his failure and suffer
in his misery. Eventually, this led to
Judas committing suicide.
His story breaks my heart.
He was this close to getting the big picture but just couldn't see it. I
wish he had accepted God's grace and forgiveness--it truly would have been a
powerful story of redemption. I want Judas to be forgiven, to be saved. But
instead, we get a story of how strong a person’s guilt and attachment to sin can
be in overriding our acceptance of God's forgiveness and love.
I don’t want to end up like Judas did. I don’t want to wallow miserably in my sin,
choosing suffering over joy. I know full
well that I am a broken daughter of God who sins every day. BUT, I am a daughter of God, liberated
through the loving sacrifice of Jesus Christ.
So during this time of Lent, I am actively choosing Life every day by
confessing my wrongdoings, letting my sins, my failures and my brokenness go,
and making room for God’s grace.
Stay tuned!
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