I’ve been thinking about confession lately.
Lent, as you know, is almost upon us.
This year at Calvary we’re spending a few weeks learning how to confess-the value of sharing our challenges, fears, failures with others and mostly, with God . . . as a blessed way of unburdening our heavy, heavy souls.
To help us do that together in Sunday worship I’ve been on the prowl for creative ways to experience corporate confession (Do you have a suggestion? Share! Please!), so I’ve been searching . . . for confessions.
Confessing the ways in which we fail, of course, is often intimidating if not downright depressing. The heaviness of Lent settles in and it’s heavy. Really heavy.
So all of this was on my mind the other day when I heard my littlest, Sammy, talking about his group of friends. I mentioned offhand that I thought our family decision to switch him to a special program at a new local school was a great idea.He agreed.
And then he mentioned, offhand: “You know, as it turns out, in my class I am fairly popular.”
He said this, you should know, with a totally straight face. It seemed to be an exercise in reporting information-not even one shred of self-promotion that I could ascertain. And watching Sammy make this declaration made me think about the way God sees you and me.
Certainly, I’d have to say, there is value in confession. I don’t know about you, but I often need to be excused from the time (after time after time) I screw up. But the problem is: when I start equating my personal value with how often I need to confess . . . well . . . well, that can get a little depressing.
I think it would do me good-and maybe you, too-to take to heart what my little innocent 9-year-old had to say: “as it turns out, I am fairly popular.”
Because . . . you know, you are. Fairly popular, that is. With the God who came to live among us to show us how we might live. Fairly popular-you and me.
Can you believe it?
This Lent, in the middle of confession, please . . . believe it.