Don’t worry – I’m not going to embarrass myself – no more so than usual at least – but I’ve been thinking about how most of us like to make out that we’re rather better than we are – more fair-minded, more generous with our time and money, and, perhaps, more morally upright than those we like to think ourselves superior to.
And how, in reality, it’s generally the complete opposite – how most of us are rather worse than we like to make out. And that the world would, therefore, be a far better place if we were all a little more honest about what we’re really like.
Not only because, if we did, we’d be able to stop pretending and cease being constantly afraid that the truth would one day come out, but also because, by admitting the truth about ourselves we would, I think, be a little happier, a little more forgiving, and a little more understanding of others.
And that’s true of Christians too.
And so I find myself wondering why it is that most Christians aren’t any better than anyone else when it comes to admitting their faults – and a darn sight less honest about their weaknesses than many of those I’ve had the pleasure of knowing who attend Alcoholics Anonymous – an organisation which, from what I can gather, is sometimes more accepting of its members than some churches are of theirs – and remarkably supportive of those they know are struggling.
But be that as it may, I’ve come to the conclusion that our desire to maintain our squeaky-clean image isn’t only because of the shame we rightly feel, or a highly appropriate desire not to dishonour the God we claim to love and the Lord we say we seek to obey.
Because I think it is often a gospel matter – our reluctance to reveal the truth about ourselves stemming from the fact that we don’t quite believe the good news enough ourselves – or, alternatively, aren’t convinced that the person we’re opening up to believes it sufficiently either.
Now I’m not suggesting we should tell all to every Tom, Dick and Harry we know – not unless the only people we know with those names happen to be our dearest and most trusted friends who know, what’s more, just how deeply flawed they are too. Because oversharing is not helpful – indeed it is often selfishness on the part of someone who, desperate to unburden themselves of their guilt, ends up burdening someone else with it instead.
But if we don’t wholly believe that we are saved by grace – not because we are good enough in ourselves, but because, no matter how grievous our sins may have been, Christ’s death on the cross paid the penalty we deserved – then we will continue to believe that we need to be better than we are to be acceptable to God. And rather than rejoicing in the fact that, as well as our sin being credited to Jesus, his life of perfect righteousness has been credited to us, we will continue to feel the need to try and present ourselves more favourably than we are.
Similarly, if we aren’t fully confident that the person we’re confiding in really believes that we are saved by grace, we may worry that they won’t accept us once they discover that we aren’t as perfect as we imagine they think we ought to be.
But here’s the thing. Whilst we, our friends, and fellow believers may sometimes struggle to believe the gospel, God does not!
After all, it is the good news of his own Son, Jesus Christ, and of the promises he has made to us in light of the salvation Christ completed on the cross. Which means we can be absolutely confident that, as we throw ourselves on his mercy, he will hear our confession and, rather than turning away from us in disgust, fully forgive us instead.
None of this is meant to suggest that our sin doesn’t matter, or that we shouldn’t seek to live more obedient lives, but a little mutual honesty would help us all feel less alone when we inevitably sin and fall short ourselves.
And so, whilst I’m not going to tell you my deepest and darkest secrets any more than I’d expect you to tell me yours, we can both tell the one who, if we confess our sins, is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. [1 John 1:9]
So let me go first.
My name is Pete – and I am a sinner.
Related blogs:
To read ‘Confession – good for the soul’, click here
To read “Hope comes from believing the promises of God”, click here
