2020.07.05 | A Good Place for Confession
“A Good Place for Confession”
Pastor Arlene
This past May, I celebrated the 32nd anniversary of my graduation from Andover Newton Theological School. Whew! Time flies in the revolution!
Andover Newton is a Christian seminary founded as a result of the 1807 merger of two seminaries, Andover, from the Congregational tradition, and Newton, from the American Baptist tradition. As a consequence of this dual affiliation, there were lots of Baptists on my seminary campus, and I was fortunate to become friends with most of them. I was also fortunate to learn about Baptist culture and pick up some Baptist vocabulary words and phrases and even a couple of jokes that are both clean and funny.
One Baptist phrase that I heard and learned to appreciate was this: “The church is a good place for confession.”
This saying was used as a reminder that confession ought to begin at home, that the Christian life is not about wagging fingers at neighbors, but rather about reflecting on and assessing one’s own walk and talk--or lack thereof--and getting right with God and our neighbors.
Today’s sermon is about the importance of confession, so I begin with my Baptist friends’ saying: The church is a good place for confession.
II
What should we confess?
This is the weekend in which we celebrate our nation’s Independence, so it is timely and important for those of us who are US citizens to confess what pastor and theologian Jim Wallis refers to as “America’s original sin”--racism.
In chapter 3 of his book, America’s Original Sin, Wallis writes: “The United States of America was established as a white society, founded upon the near genocide of another race and then the enslavement of yet another.”
Continuing on a few paragraphs later, Wallis writes:
Racism is rooted in sin--or evil...which goes deeper than politics, pointing fingers, partisan maneuvers, blaming, or name calling. We can get to a better place only if we go to that morally deeper place. There will be no superficial or merely political overcoming of our racial sins--that will take a spiritual and moral transformation as well. Sin must be named, exposed, and understood before it can be repented of.
I couldn’t agree more. That’s why my message today is based on Romans 7, the epistle lesson for today in the Revised Common Lectionary.
In addition to confessing that racism is America’s original sin, it’s also necessary for us to acknowledge that the Christian Church has a lot of racism to confess, and that congregations like ours (that come out of a Liberal Protestant tradition) aren’t too enthralled with confession.
III
What do we have to confess as a faith tradition?
For starters we must confess that Christianity has a mixed history when it comes to slavery. We have not always been on the right side of justice.
On the one hand, the primary narrative of the Hebrew Bible is the exodus story--the story of God freeing the Hebrew people from Egyptian slavery. Yet, on the other hand, reference is made throughout the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament to Jews and Christians owning slaves--and to the practice of slavery being normative throughout the Ancient Near Eastern and Greco-Roman Worlds.
In the Gospels, Jesus is depicted as telling stories about slaves, healing slaves, and referring to himself as a slave; but there are no accounts of Jesus actually freeing slaves from their masters.
In the New Testament Epistles, the author of Ephesians encouraged slaves to be loyal and obedient to their masters (6:5-8). Similar statements were expressed in Colossians 3:22-24, I Timothy 6:1-2, and Titus 2:9-10.
In Colossians 4:1, Paul advises slave owners to treat their slaves justly, mindful that there would be a reckoning in the next life for unjust masters. Paul also routinely applies the term slavery to describe his relationship with Christ, thereby implying that the institution of slavery somehow provides a model for the Christian life. Ick!
Galatians 3:27-29, by contrast, is sometimes referenced as an example of Paul’s opposition to slavery, because he writes: “There is neither slave nor free person, there is no male and female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (This pronouncement is repeated in 1 Peter 2:18.)
The argument is often made that Paul’s emphasis on the primacy of Christian identity over worldly identities is an illustration of his opposition to slavery, but others argue just as vigorously that this passage reveals the Apostle’s tacit acceptance of it.
The epistle to Philemon, a slave owner, is another example of a text that has been used to both embrace and challenge the practice of slavery. The proponents of slavery, during the Civil War for example, argued that Philemon affirms slavery as a social institution and teaches slaves to accept their station and to work hard for their masters.
Protestant Abolitionists’ and the Roman Catholic Church’s teachings on slavery, by contrast, have claimed that Philemon provides a biblical basis for freeing slaves, because the Apostle regards Onesimus, Philemon’s slave who is referred to in the epistle, as his “beloved brother in Christ.”
It’s humbling and troubling for me as a life-long Christian and as a pastor to note the number of references to the tacit acceptance of slavery in the Bible, and to realize that for more than two millennia the Judeo-Christian traditions have, at best, had mixed record of complicity with slavery in particular and racism in general.
Furthermore, on this weekend when America celebrates our Independence, we must truthfully face the fact that racism is our nation’s original sin, that it took our forebears nearly 250 years after the first slaves were brought to this continent to abolish the institution of slavery in this nation, and that we have a momentous task ahead of us to dismantle the racist legacy that we have inherited, and the privilege that white citizens have benefited from at great cost to Americans of African decent.
IV
In addition to confessing our original sin of racism, we Americans also have a lot of confessing to do about the fact that--especially in predominantly White Liberal Protestant traditions like ours--we aren’t all that keen about confession, and our aversion to confession cobbles our ability to do the deeper, harder work that is necessary for us to become more intentionally and actively anti-racist people.
Why this aversion to confession and where does it come from?
For my white liberal Protestant peers, confession makes us feel bad about ourselves. Confession reminds us of our mistakes, of who we don’t want to be, and about what we wish we would have done, and those thoughts and feelings lead us to feel uncomfortable.
In addition, those of us who have enjoyed white privilege aren’t accustomed to feeling uncomfortable, and we are not eager to get comfortable with it either; and yet, having these hard conversations and taking a hard look at ourselves is exactly what is called for in these times. Without these conversations and this self-reflection, racial reconciliation and justice will not be possible in our land.
This is so because confession acknowledges injury and loss. Confession takes seriously the truth that injury and wrong have occurred, that someone was hurt, and that someone else caused that hurt.
Confession is the second in a series of a five step process of reconciliation that Christians historically and cross-culturally have embraced and practiced as part of our faith tradition. There are four other steps to this process that must also be practiced in order for us to experience the healing we need. The five steps include reflection, confession, contrition, forgiveness, and absolution. A brief explanation of each follows:
Step 1: Reflection has to do with recognizing that something has gone wrong in a relationship. Someone has been injured, either intentionally or unintentionally, and there is a need to make amends. Sometimes the person who makes the mistake recognizes the error of their ways immediately, but more often than not, mistakes aren’t immediately realized or acknowledged.
Often it takes intervention on the part of another person—either the person who has been injured or someone who witnesses the injury or wrong—to point out the error or wound. Reflection involves understanding what the offense was, and how it has affected the person who was wronged and the relationship between the two people (or even two groups).
For example, many times over the course of life, I’ve heard one person say to another, “That was a really racist thing to say or do.” More often than not, I’ve heard the person who has been called out say, in a knee-jerk response, “That’s not racist, or I’m not racist.”
Most people I know don’t think of themselves as racist and they truly do not want to be racist, and yet, how can any of us not be racist. We have been raised in and we live in a racist society. Racism is literally and figuratively in the air that we breathe and the food that we eat.
If we want our society to change, if we want the world to be a better place, a better response to someone calling us a racist or telling us that our words or actions (or our silence or inaction) are racist, would be to pause and say, “That wasn’t my intention. I need to reflect on this situation, and discern why my intention and action (or inaction) don’t line up. Once I figure out what went wrong, I am poised to make a meaningful confession.
Step 2: Confession is the admission of wrongdoing (both intentional and unintentional) by the person who committed the offense. In the Church, we acknowledge two types of sins: sins of commission and sins of omission.
Sins of commission are erroneous actions, while sins of omission are failures to take action. Confession—acknowledgement and ownership of my mistakes—sounds like this: “I’m sorry. I was wrong to do or say X. I made a mistake.” Or, “I’m sorry. I should have spoken up, and/or taken action, and I did not.”
In order to achieve some semblance of racial justice, those who have benefitted from white privilege must recognize and acknowledge our sins of commission and omission. We must identify and admit when we have said or done something racist, and when we have failed to speak up or act out in the face of racist actions, laws, and policies in our interpersonal lives and in our communities.
Step 3: Contrition is a peculiar church word which means to behave in a way that demonstrates that we are truly sorry for what we did or did not do, and we make amends for our action or inaction.
Sometimes when we mess up, the remedy for our mistakes is pretty clear, but at other times the needed remedies are less obvious or more complex. So part of the way that we can demonstrate contrition is by not assuming that we know how to make a situation better. Often, it’s best for us to ask the person whom we’ve hurt or who has been hurt by our racist institutions, “How can we make amends?”
A helpful first step in the practice of contrition is to listen to victims--really listen--and hear them out, rather than getting defensive and shutting them down or walking away, or trying to put a band-aid on a deep wound that’s oozing and infected. The desperate need to end violence against people of African descent in the USA, especially at the hands of law enforcement officers, is a case in point where deep listening and meaningful acts of contrition are imperative in order for racial and social justice and healing to be possible.
Step 4: Forgiveness. Whether forgiveness of slavery or other forms of egregious racism are possible, it is not mine to determine, because I have never been a slave or the subject of racism.
But if forgiveness is possible--and it may not be possible this side of heaven--forgiveness can only be rightly granted by persons who have been enslaved and/or who have been the targets of racism.
And, again, true forgiveness will only be possible if those who have participated in or benefited from slavery and other forms of institutionalized racism take adequate time and opportunity to reflect, confess, and amend for the harm that people of African descent have incurred over many generations.
Step 5: Absolution. The final step in the reconciliation process is called “absolution.” Absolution means “to be set free.” Though the day and time for absolution is a long way off in our country, it will only be possible if we have taken the four preceding steps of reflection, confession, contrition, and forgiveness. Then, and only then, will any of us be able to enjoy the fullness of life that God intended for one and all. Because our lives are tied to the wellbeing of everyone in our community.
V
To be sure, the path that we are on is uphill. It’s an Everest. But like the sherpas on Mt. Everest say, “Every step is a step.” Nobody ever reached the summit by thinking about it or talking about it. They got to the top by taking one step at a time. So let’s get on with it. Let’s take responsibility for ourselves and for doing our part, so that we might be part of the answer to the prayers that we pray for racial and social justice and healing. Amen.