Confession in Everyday Life

Confession in Everyday Life

I’m sure we can all imagine this typical Hollywood scene: the darkened church, the shadowy stall, the priest obscured behind a screen. ‘Bless me father, for I have sinned.’

Is this the image we have in our mind when we think about confession? A ritual and transactional exchange of words to absolve us of our misdeeds? Or is there more — or less — to confession in the Biblical picture?

The New Testament word for confession (homologeō) conveys the idea of a declaration or acknowledgment. It’s in this broadest understanding that we ‘confess [Christ] before men’ (Matthew 10:32). It’s also, literally, a shared word, or agreement. An example of this is the Westminster Confession, a collection of statements about God that one might confess or proclaim individually as true, but which also binds people together through that shared confession.

Even though these may not be how we typically conceive of confession, they serve to highlight a key aspect of all forms of confession: that a confession is ultimately a statement, an agreement, of truth. Sometimes that might mean saying that ‘Yes, Jesus is Lord!’ Other times that means saying that ‘Yes, I am a sinner,’ or perhaps more pointedly, ‘Yes, I was speeding when I crashed into the parked car.’

So when James instructs us to ‘confess [our] sins to each other’ (James 5:16) what he is saying is: be honest and open about your sins with each other.

But what does this look like? What might a church look like when we’re open and honest about our sin? What might we need to be wary of?

Firstly, Jesus, while sinless himself, openly acknowledged the sinfulness of his followers. This led him to clash with the Pharisees who were under the misapprehension that they had no sin to confess themselves, and were scandalised that Jesus fraternised with prostitutes and tax collectors. But as Jesus said, the healthy don’t need a doctor; he came to heal and forgive sinners. That means us — which is good news! We should never be afraid to declare this openly, as it’s the heart of the Gospel. We should not lose sight of the fact that the Church is a collection of sinners. Yes, sinners saved and washed — but we remain ‘recovering sinners’ (to steal the parlance of Alcoholics Anonymous).

Secondly, while we ought to be open about our sinfulness, we should never wear the label proudly or boastfully. This can especially be a temptation in today’s therapeutic and narcissistic culture where we focus on our ‘brokenness’ and our flaws can be worn as a badge of honour, defining our identity. I’m thinking here of ‘confessional’ style interviews or public testimonies that can seem to relish in the recounting of past misdeeds. Sin, while confessed, is not necessarily regretted or actually repented of, instead conferring on the sinner a form of status through hard-won wisdom. But sin is always a shameful thing, and nothing to be pleased about, even in hindsight. The glory in our forgiveness belongs to God, for his grace, not in the size of the debt we have accumulated.

Thirdly, we need to emphasise the way confession applies to our relationships with each another. The image of a penitent parishioner in a private confession stall emphasises our sin before God. Of course this is true, but if that’s all we imagine confession to be, we can lose sight of the fact that we sin against other people as much as we sin against God. I think this is why James encourages us to bring our sin not only to the elders but to one another. It isn’t just that we need our brother to be an ‘accountability partner’ to keep us honest and help us deal with our sin. Our brother often isn’t just a neutral third party, but is the one we have sinned against, and we need to seek their forgiveness! Consider how programs like Alcoholics Anonymous not only encourage sharing sins and struggles among fellow addicts (co-travellers, yet third parties to the sin) but also confession and reconciliation with those who have actually been wronged and hurt. Both aspects of confession are important. James 5 can be seen as a mirror to Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 18. Where James focuses on the sinner and calls them to take responsibility and acknowledge their sin, Jesus focuses on the one who is sinned against and calls on them to seek reconciliation by drawing attention to the other’s sin. In both these instances the purpose isn’t just airing grievances or empty words. There is a concrete goal in mind: restoring and building relationships.

The New Testament call to confess our sin isn’t simply a call to ritualistic transactions. It is a call for us to be honest about our sin, and our capacity to sin, with God and with one another. This honesty then works to build relationships, both with God and each other. I think this can be best illustrated by the parable of the Pharisee and tax collector (Luke 18:9–14). The Pharisee had nothing to confess, and so was boastful and proud — nothing was changed by his prayer. But the tax collector was broken and humble. His only prayer was, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ Yes, I am a sinner. Yes, I have hurt you. I am sorry, and I will do better. Will you forgive me? Let us be reconciled. That, Jesus said, was a prayer that changed things — his standing before God; but also, one suspects, the hearts of any who heard him.

This article first appeared in InterSections, February 2025.