The Book of Common Prayer, in all its liturgical beauty, holds this specific prayer that has captured my imagination,
“Most merciful God, we confess that we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone.”
I’ve just passed my one-year anniversary of worshiping in an Anglican church and I still get excited every Sunday when we prepare to make this confession. Even before this year, the confession was discipling my view of sin- deepening and expanding it.
Because, when it comes to sin, it is about the things we’ve done… but that is not the whole picture. It’s about the things we’ve done unintentionally. It’s about the good that we’ve avoided. It’s about the hurt we suffer due to humanity’s systemic and personal wrongs. No matter what type of sin, the result is the same: we get hurt and need healing.
In high school, I was determined to be the most perfectly behaved student in the school and therefore secure the approval of teachers and the affection of friends. One of the outcomes was that I hardly ever said a word in class. I figured if I didn’t say anything, I would remain perfect. I could hide under the guise of innocent shyness. And if I smiled and giggled at people in conversations, they would love me and want to be my friend (there’s no trauma there, none at all).
I’m not calling any of that sin, it was more just childishness. But after growing up, I realized how people are endeared to each other. It doesn’t come through being perfect or through avoiding interaction because we’re scared of making mistakes. It comes through embracing people for who they are: affirming their quirks, offering our own vulnerability when they offer theirs, and being invested in their lives. It’s about what we do, not just what we don’t do.
And so with sin. Avoiding sin doesn’t mean just running away from all the bad things, it also means getting dirty doing good. Doing good is harder than avoiding bad, it takes critical thinking, selflessness, and the ability to act outside perfectly prescribed boundaries.
Sin makes us suffer a lot, and not just because we messed up and did the wrong thing. Sometimes we’ve failed to do the right thing and are reaping the consequences. Sometimes, through no control of our own, people’s choices hurt us. I find so much comfort that God’s forgiveness, in this big framework, comes to find and heal us. There is a lot we need healing from, and it’s not all our fault.
I’ve been working on some lyrics encompassing this broader picture of sin. Next week, I’ll take a deeper dive into the stanzas and tease out the nuance, but for now I’ll just end with words. I’m calling it, simply, Confession:
For what we’ve done and
have left undone
in thought, word, and deed.
For harms we have committed,
for harms we have received.
Mercy, pardon
goodness restored,
our lives evermore
made whole by redemption.
Our hands that sow
the fruit of pain,
and fail to offer peace.
Of bitter talk and pride,
and hurts that harvest grief.
Lord have mercy,
here in our strife,
renew our lives.
with full redemption.
And though we walk through shadows,
with steps we loathe to tread,
we’ll lift our eyes from valleys,
up to the Mountain’s Head.
Sweet salvation,
swiftly to heal
and wholeness reveal,
we welcome redemption.
For what we’ve done and
have left undone,
in thought, word and deed.
For harms we have committed,
for harms we have received.
mercy, pardon,
goodness restored,
our lives evermore,
made whole by redemption.
(amen/the end).
I’m excited to share more about what these words mean. Next week, I’ll start with the bolded lines that are repeated at the beginning and end. It’s the crux of my reconstructed theology of sin.
More to come.
I continue to be blessed by your work. 🫶🏾
This has me thinking in a new way this morning. Thank you.
I realized last night after seeing a woman I met in a class a few months ago (the class met for 5 weeks) how I wanted to be her friend. Why didn't I try to get to know her during those 5 weeks? I had the opportunity. Sure, I can say "I was busy" (yes, of course I was. I am 44, married with 2 active children) and yet, she was there, all along (and since then too as she took the lead for our group to stay in touch) and my “I'm good” responses (nicer than that and true statements of being otherwise committed) to invitations to connect. I can't say I know for certain I have more to give and receive in life than what I currently give and receive but (it's a big but) I have had a lot of little (and honestly almost too big) allofasudden surprises in life to know, “honey, hold onto your hat. Your life is cared about. It will serve a good purpose for a good God.”