Over the last 200 or so concerts I have talked about sin quite a bit. At the same time I have observed that many churches, both those of my home denomination (which is PCA), and others who are evangelical, conservative, and would say they attempt to be biblical, talk very little about sin or confession of sin. Many times all that is done publicly is for someone to thank God for forgiving us. Certainly there is nothing wrong with that. But actually confessing our sin is something else altogether. It seems that to a certain degree in order to not appear like the Roman Catholic Church we have done away with, or diminished as much as possible, the practice of confessing our sin together as the family of God.
This, in my view, once again, is swinging the pendulum to far. A large portion of the Scriptures talk about sin. A large portion of the church forget at best, or disparage at worst, the bible’s emphasis on sin. Why? Perhaps it’s our perception that sin doesn’t sell or make people feel encouraged. But grace does. The obvious problem, however, is that we don’t need grace if we aren’t sinners, and so grace becomes an impotent concept that is relegated to the sphere of the sentimental.
I am not afraid of the topic. In fact, I find confessing my sin along side others a wonderfully encouraging and uplifting experience that is based in the reality that an Almighty Father longs to embrace his wayward child. The parable of the Prodigal pictures a father running to throw his arms about the repentant son.
Public confession of sin as the family of God should be revitalized. Perhaps we can even regain the practice of confessing “our” sin rather than only confessing “my” sin. Yes, the Lord works with individuals, but he also has a long history of working in, and through groups of people. The church is a group, a covenant family. I pray that when we come together on a Lord’s Day that we can confess together, be humbled together, and thereby be uplifted together by the Strong Hand that bore all sin. Why carry the burden? Confess.
