Public Confession

“You can’t imagine how good it feels to get that off of my chest,” the old gentleman said as he stood up grinning from ear to ear. He continued, “I’ll never forget what happened, but I can finally let it go.”  The older gentleman had just spent the last hour confessing the burdens that were on his heart.  He was shaken up and wanted someone to remind him that it is Easter—Christ forgives and brings new life.

It’s a shame that public confession is not more common. There are plenty of Scriptural mandates—John 20:21-23 says, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you…If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” Christ’s presence in our community, which is the body of Christ, allows all of us to perform the action of Jesus. Christ gave us the authority to forgive in his name.

We have an anti-Catholic bias which often assumes that humans cannot (or should not) forgive another in the name of Christ. Jesus gave us a free pass to call up God whenever we want and receive our forgiveness there. “I can forgive myself,” is what we say. “It’s redundant to receive forgiveness from another human being.” We can learn something from the Catholics who confess regularly to the priest. The problem is that self-confession can become an exercise where we grant ourselves forgiveness without really confessing at all; we go through the motions. There is no freedom in self-deception. Conversely, public confession breaks the circle of deception. The Catholics may have gotten it wrong by giving the priesthood a monopoly on the authority to forgive, but they do have something important to say about public confession.

Vulnerability is also a part of the problem. It’s difficult to confess to another human being, even if the person is your best friend. Confession is an assault on our pride. Bonhoeffer says, “Confession in the presence of a brother is the profoundest kind of humiliation. It hurts, it cuts a man down, it is a dreadful blow to pride” (Life Together 114). I’ll be the first to admit that I rarely confess to another, and I confess to my best friends when I do.  I also realized that I am missing out on something important when this older gentleman confessed his sins in front of this 26 year old. Our relationship received an authenticity that was not there before. 

 I learned that authentic community is rare without public confession and vulnerability. The community can be a sham without it—it’s as if we walk through the Church doors with food in our teeth, and we are unwilling to tell each other how ridiculous we look. As long as we do not confess to one another, we will remain prideful, desiring to rule over one another.  The barrier between you and me will remain until we can truly become vulnerable and admit our sin. Confession frees us to love truly and sincerely.

The older gentleman knew that he could go straight to God, but he chose to go to another Christian.  Public confession gives the community certainty of its forgiven existence in a way that self-forgiveness cannot. Sin seeks to claim the individual for itself but public confession reveals the sin, breaks the individual out of solitude, and reconciles the person to the community. In Life Together, Bonhoeffer says, “A man who confesses his sins in the presence of a brother knows that he is no longer alone with himself; he experiences the presence of God in the reality of the other person” (116). It was clear that this man no longer felt alone; he was made free and joyous.

It’s a privilege for all of us to receive the gift of public confession.  Confession is a “dreadful blow to our pride,” but it is the most freeing blow we will ever receive. We are made free for new life, authentic community, and true love.