The Healing Balm of ConfessionНамуна

After the beating I suffered in Brandon, Mississippi, I spent a good deal of time in the hospital. I was broken in body and broken in spirit. I had come to understand that my reaction of anger, hate, and bitterness was as bad as the action of the white jail guards who had beaten me. It was at that point that I was able to see my own brokenness. God used the black and white nurses and doctors at that hospital to wash my wounds. For me, they were symbolic of the people who had beaten me. What they did for me healed more than just my broken body. It healed my heart. I wanted to hate all white people after what happened to me. But God used their compassion and care to break the wall of anger, distrust, and bitterness. He used their kindness to convict me of how wrong I was to harbor bitterness in my heart.  He set me free to love them in return. 

Oh, how beautiful it would be if we could wash one another’s wounds from the evil of racism in the church! That could be the balm that heals us . . . that sets us free . . . that rekindles the light that has long been hidden under a bushel. But those wounds cannot and will not be healed without first being exposed. We must do as the prodigal did and acknowledge that we have sinned against God and against one another.

I spoke at a multicultural church in Seattle not long ago. As I shared my testimony, many of those attending shared their own stories. Many had stories of being dehumanized as a minority. Some told stories of internment of their family and friends. I realized that I might have been guilty at some time of dehumanizing others. I had to repent and ask God for forgiveness. When we do that He promises to forgive us, to remove our sin as far as the east is from the west (Ps. 103:12) But the wounds often remain. Often they leave scabs that have to be gingerly removed . . . until all that is left is a scar. The memory of the hurt.

I know that confession and brokenness are almost un-American terms. We pride ourselves on our rugged individualism and our right to be right. So it may not be “American” to admit our faults and humble ourselves before one another, but if we want to be like Christ this is what we must do. He was equal with God, but He humbled Himself and dwelt among His creation. He got hungry and thirsty just as we do. And He submitted Himself to ridicule and scorn in order to purchase our salvation. He is our example.

“Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A slave is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted Me, they will also persecute you. If they kept My word, they will keep yours also” (John 15:20). If Jesus is truly our master, then humility and brokenness will become doable. So, let’s do the hard business of confession. Let’s do it together.