Will you join me in prayer as we make ourselves ready to deal with ourselves before God. Lord, and lover of our souls, find us open to you, find a teachable place within each of us that because of our time with each other and attending to your word, our lives might be freer, more whole, and bring you pleasure. In Christ's name we pray.

Keith has begun a series on essential characteristics of a healthy church. And it's clear to us that if something is healthy for the community as a whole, it's also healthy for the individual Christian. This week, we're looking at the prescription of James that we be a confessing church. We need to start at the beginning.

What is a confessing community and why would we want to be one? There's a sense in which the story of Israel and the story of Christendom and our story is that we make two kinds of confession which form our identity. Both are ways of relating to God. Sometimes we confess the content of our creeds and reveal our convictions in each other's company. Sometimes we confess the content of our consciences and reveal the reality of our own lives to God or to each other. When we confess faith, we are telling the truth about God. When we confess sin, we are telling the truth about us. It's been the practice throughout the history of the faith community that every believer needs to find their own voice in both of those venues. We can't give the responsibility to worship to another Christian, and you can't give the responsibility to confess to another Christian. We each must find our own voice, and say in words that are personal, and real, and meaningful, who we see God to be and who we see ourselves to be.

That this is essential to the health of a Christian community is well taught in Romans, Philippians and elsewhere. Let me give you just a couple of samples. From Romans 10:

The word of faith which we proclaim is near you on your lips and in your heart because if you confess with your lips that Jesus is the Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead you will be saved.

Or in Philippians chapter 2:

God highly exalted him so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is the Lord to the glory of God the Father.

It matters what the content of our convictions are. It matters whether they're accurate and it matters whether we share them. Worship is about making God's nature conscious. Confession is about making our nature conscious. God wants thoughtful believers, disciples that are paying attention, that are mindful of the transactions of life, and whose words give expression to real events formed in the mind and heart.

Both forms of confession, be they creedal or confessional, can be done alone or they can be done in community. In one sense, they are both prayers, both ways of relating to some of the truth about God, or some other truth about us in God's company. Each one inspires and feeds the other. This should be no surprise, because our maker is a grounded being in whom all things are brought together. One truth strengthens another truth. One form of maturing begets another form of maturing. Our appetite for worship therefore forms our appetite for confession. The more clarity we have about God's true nature, the more we are compelled to say with real clarity the truth about our natures. Authentic worship, I-thou experiences, invoke a sense of personal unworthiness which requires authentic confession.

Personal encounters with the Holy Ghost beget personal soul searching. I think it's fair to say that we know about as much about God as we want to, about as much about ourselves as we care to. It's important to acknowledge to each other that desire determines a lot of outcomes. It's true with learning, it's true with athleticism, it's true with the arts of friendship, it's true with being connected to our maker and to the Holy Spirit. Desire begets outcome. And it matters to God that we desire to know him as he knows himself, and that we desire to know ourselves as we are not.

Adam hid because he was unprepared to bring the truth about himself into God's presence and we understand how this can be. It's fair to say that whenever we're inclined to hide from God or each other, or from ourselves through the craft of denial, that we are drifting away from authenticity. When we over-edit or airbrush our self-portraits, or turn our histories into myth-making, we are wanting to be someone other we are. And that's not the work of grace, because God wants you to be who you are, and not someone else, and altogether free in his company because he can bear the truth about us if we can bear it. What's astounding in such a complex world with so many cultures and so many events in one given personal life, is that God cares about our interior health, more that we do, more I think than our parents do, more I think than our partners do. God cares about our interior health. God is holy and good beyond our imagining. He wants us to be good. He wants to set us apart in this world, filled with so many disillusionments, that in our better moments we might loan courage and purpose to lives that want a way to live that pleases God and fulfills themselves.

Some events that we read about second-hand, have a lasting impression on us. And one of those was the way that Jesus responded to the first appearing of Nathanael who Philip had gone to retrieve and bring as a candidate to be a disciple. When he was afar off and approaching, Jesus looked upon him and he said, "There is an Israelite, in whom there is no guile." You only get one chance to make a first impression. And he knew Nathanael before Nathanael made an impression in the public awareness of the other disciples because God and his Son, Christ Jesus look on the heart and know the person within. What an extraordinary thing that Jesus would, in the company of the other disciples, in the recorded gospel, affirm the guilelessness of this man whose place in history has been forgotten by most Christians. If we'd had a son, and not three daughters, we would have named him Nathanael, and probably called him Nate. When we name our children, sometimes we give them names that they hope they will grow into. I think what I was projecting, was the desire over time to become a more guileless man, and want to raise a son who would be.

It's evident that there's a clear relationship between confession and healing. In fact, it rather forthrightly implies that there are some forms of healing that cannot be experienced or appropriated without confession. When we tell the truth to ourselves and to others who love us well without judgment but with accountability, they require us to be in the world differently, and we grow into forms of health that we've avoided to that point. Also linked is confession and prayer. There's something about confessing that names things which other mortals can't fix, which requires them, if they are persons of faith, to pray for us. When someone tells you about something broken, in their world, or their family, or their own nature - that's an invitation to pray, to carry with them a burden that weighs them down. And it seems to be a requirement of a healthy Christian community. We're encouraged that the prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective. It's hard to imagine becoming righteous without telling the truth about God and the truth about oneself. Those are behaviors along the path.

One thing that I think it helps us to remember is that this idea of a community being a confessing community is not new to us. It was a way of life among the Hebrew people. The rhythms of the calendar included occasions of atonement. The rhythms of life included sin offerings. There was this mindfulness that, whatever you call it, there was a disorder in human nature that was not God-made, that needed to be restored and mended. There's a requirement in any honest soul to truly experience a forgiveness that cleansed the mind and rewrote, or at least freed us from the power of history.

One of the sweetest expressions of this need for confession and the need for it sometimes to be done in community is what we find in the fifty-first psalm. Read the whole of it sometime for your own edification. David, who God labeled as a man after his own heart, had arranged for the death of a loyal general to conceal the fact that he was having an affair with that general's wife. It was Nathan, the prophet, who dared to confront him with the truth about his life which, in those circumstances, could have led to his own death. But he trusted God, and loved David, and longed for a healthy Israel enough to speak the truth that had to be dealt with one way or the other. To his credit and as a model for us, David offered a prayer that is quite extraordinary. I'll read you portions of it:

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love. According to your abundant mercy, blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions and my sin is ever before me. Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are justified in your sentence, and blameless when you pass judgment...Create in me a clean heart O God, and put a right and new spirit within me. Cast me not away from your presence. Do not take your Holy Spirit away from me.

Wonderful words, and just a few of them. What we have modeled here is an awareness that forgiveness is essential to an I-thou relationship. It is a very Hebrew self-understanding. In the inter-testamental period it continued to be a conscious concern. When John the Baptist in the desert called the people to come to the river, it was not just to point beyond himself to the Messiah. It was not just to invite baptism. It was meant to be an observance of the baptism of cleansing which would accompany their confession of sins. In fact, Mark says, "All the people of Jerusalem were going out to him and were baptized by him in the River Jordan, confessing their sins." We don't know in what manner they confessed them, how publicly, how interpersonally. But we know that there was an active integrity which needed to precede the baptism. There acts of integrity, truth-speaking to oneself, for oneself, that need to be permeating our worship, and our friendship, and our lives with each other.

I find it significant that the early behaviors of the Christian church modeled this historical precedent. In the book of Acts we read, "Many of those who became believers confessed and disclosed their practices." To whom? How would Luke know? I think to God and to each other, that the earnestness of their lives intending to be under God's influence would be seen as authentic.

There may be some here that are new to the church world. Maybe you've not been in the company of a worshipping people much of your life. I don't want to neglect to define a couple of key understandings here. One of them is: What is confession, really? Confession means to own personal responsibility for one's moral and spiritual condition. It's what happens after blaming is over. It's what happens post-denial. It's what happens when we each know that God has no grandchildren. We each lay claim to our place in relationship with God when we personally acknowledge that evil is a personal problem, not just a historical and cultural problem. Not a theological concept, it's a personal problem. We don't do the things we ought to do and know we should. We do things we know we ought not to do, but yet we do them. That's the truth about us. So when we confess, we are finding our voice ethically, before our maker. There's no such thing spiritually as an extracted confession. By definition, it requires voluntary genuineness. It can't be borrowed from someone else's conscience, and should never be borrowed from the mores or control instincts of some faith subculture. It ought to be a personal response to knowing how God wants me to be in the world and recognizing that I'm not only not there yet, that sometimes I even work against his purposes for me.

By sins, we mean every thought, word, and deed that departs from our intended natures. Things not done that should have been done, things done that should not have been done. I don't think that the language is critical here. There have been so many times that the word "sin" has been used artlessly, without clarity or grace, and been off-putting to those outside the family of faith that I don't mind if you use the words "transgressions" or "offenses to God's holiness." I like what John McQuarrie, an Anglican theologian does. He refers to a "disorder in the human condition", which any honest historian or therapist encounters. Not improved by education, or good will, or luck.

Well, in some ways, we've done the easy part, because we're coming now to the phrase that says not only are we to confess our sins, but we're to confess them to one another. Why is this important, to confess our sins to one another? Because God made us for community and because, in order to continue to have traction in our growth, and to draw closer to God's true nature, we need help. There are some things we cannot, though private, accomplish on our own. In our culture there's a growing risk of isolation, and there's an unhappy individuality, especially in the suburban church. But isolation has serious risks. It is easier to give in to an addiction when alone. It is easier to surrender to depression when alone. It is easier to give in to fear, to cynicism, to perfectionism, to greed, to any slippery slope within the soul when we're alone. It is easier to be consumed by any fearful medical diagnosis. Isolated people succumb to their own weaknesses.

Confessing aloud involves more aspects of our humanness. When we speak, we choose words. We either edit or revise. We either assemble or dissemble. Just taking self-observations out loud in the company of another person requires a higher level of honesty. We're less inclined to edit. In my early days as a Christian, not being in a Christian church, and not having Christian friends, I stumbled into praying aloud as just a habit. It's occasionally awkward, but I prefer it, because I can hear my tone of voice. I can really spot a rationalization. You know how hard it is to catch a rationalization when it's never put into concrete language? And there's something rather wonderful about confessing to another out loud because it invokes other aspects of our humanity. It creates a consequential relationship that has accountability. If you tell someone who you don't want to be and who you want to be, and they care about you, you give them moral authority in your private life. You give them proper invited leverage.

We need transparency to be real, and we need the discernment of friends to stay honest. God knows this about us, and encourages us to find safe, responsible ways to confess to one another. Now, there's a plan afoot, that in order to get publicized, came to my knowledge. And that is there is going to be a party which is largely affirming for my twenty-five years here. I don't know if it's completely devoid of roast elements. That's why I say, "largely affirming." Being mindful of a quarter century in the company of people like yourselves has really had an effect on me. I found myself thinking of this, and have been immensely grateful, especially for the trust placed by those of you who have told truth privately. When you're on the receiving end, or the facilitating end of a confession, you are on holy ground. You have been privileged to know people in ways that others don't. I want to tell you that this church is so filled with stories of integrity, and gutsy personal courage, and forgiveness, and restoration, even some rather extraordinary gestures of restitution, that I wish I could tell you what I've heard. But I'm saving that to fund my retirement.

Instead of losing respect for persons when they tell us the truth about their lives, it's been my experience that my regard for them grows in ways that are humbling. I can't look at a group anymore as a group. I'm so respectful of private stories. But James sees something here that we so often forget. He says, "confess your sins to one another so that you may be healed." We have much to learn from support groups and twelve step programs. It makes no sense to enter such doors if one is not prepared to be authentic and known. But once known, what a regard for each others' lives comes out of such an experience. Happily, it's the practice in this church to keep secrets very well. Information belongs to the life it's about, until that life decides to share it.

So there are profound rewards for truth speaking. It sets others free as well as ourselves. Unconfessed sin creates a psychological undertow. It holds back relationships. It impairs marriages. It dilutes the power of faith itself. If we're going to share faith, then we're going to share events of grace where we pursue and find mercy together. And when we do, we'll behave in ways that are wonderfully attractive in this world of ours, when others explore being part of this community. Secret sins stunt growth. Secret mercies hoard blessings. We want to be stewards of God's good work.

Now I know there are times in which confession to others and about others is difficult. We can all imagine times when one's own confession smokes out somebody else. If a couple is having an affair, and their both married, not to each other, and one is compelled to live in truth and to let their partner know, then events have their own course. If three cat burglars are building a resume together and one gets religion, then the others may get more than they reckoned. When I was in junior high, and had too much free time, one of the things we did for amusement in Santa Barbara and Montecito is what was called estate-hopping, where you went over the walls and explored someone else's private property, and their house if you could get into it. Now I know this is wrong, but it's also wrong to have guard dogs and not post a sign. What we did was to decorate. We simply transformed living rooms into master bedrooms and relocated art, and things of this nature. I wasn't a boy scout, what can I tell you? So I was in an English class in junior high when I was invited to go to the principal's office. When I went in, I saw this friend, Mark, whose name has been legally changed before he moved out of state. I saw him sitting there with a policeman next to him, and I thought, "This is not going to be an affirming experience." So I was ushered into the principal's office and had my first triad, the principal, the policeman, and myself. The policeman said, "Are the things that Mark said about you, true?" I had a weakness for being glib, even then. I think I said something about truth is sometimes subjectively dealt with, which wasn't getting off on the right foot. The reason why that came to the surface is that this friend of mine, unknown to us, had not told us the truth about him. When we were redecorating a house, he was stealing jewelry. His parents were multi-millionaires, so this was certainly not funding a life-style. But to make it right, everybody involved had to get around to telling the truth. There was no shortcut, because each one literally had a different story. It hadn't been the same thing, it hadn't meant the same thing, and I'm here to tell you that I'm free, and the wiser for it. It was such a good object lesson that when we go up, we take people with us. When we go down we take people with us. And on either journey, if we're not prepared for the truth about us, we're not contributing.

It would not be fitting for us to look at this subject and not to attempt in a conscious way some public confession together. So I invite Laurel and Kevin to come forward and guide us in that moment.