If God knows what we have done wrong, why must we confess our sins? Consider what novelist Frederick Buechner writes on the subject, “To confess your sins to God is not to tell God anything God doesn’t know. Until you confess them, however, they are the abyss between you. When you confess them, they become the Golden Gate Bridge.” Confession has the power to heal our breach with God yet are factors at work in us that recoil at the very thought of confession. It assaults our pride and pokes a gaping hole in our invincibility. Let’s set the record straight: we confess for our sake, not on God’s behalf. Confession brings to our awareness our need for mercy.
The Puritans (I’ve written elsewhere about how unfairly they are maligned in common American culture) were big into confession. They knew the power of confession to draw us back into union with God. In yesterday’s prayer, I wrote about the recuperative powers that accompany a broken heart. Today’s prayer moves from naming our wild hearts to asking God to fill our broken hearts. Somehow, I don’t associate Puritans with being wild-hearted, but that’s hardly the point. Confession is good for the soul. There’s an old Jewish tale about a student who asks the rabbi, “Why does the Torah say we lay these words upon our hearts? Why doesn’t it say we lay these words in our hearts?” The rabbi answered, “Because God knows that our hearts are closed, so we lay these words upon the heart. When our hearts break, the words fall in.” God’s Word falls like good seed into fertile soil when our hearts are broken.
Today’s prayer of confession is included in a collection of Puritan prayers: