The Dawn of Tolerance in Massachusetts: Public Repentance of Judge Samuel.

One of our congregationalist ancestors made a name for himself for his confession. Samuel Sewall was one of the judges who condemned so-called witches to death in Salem in the 1700s. Eventually, he became convinced he’d made a terrible mistake, so he later wrote a public confession and chose to stand in shame before his congregation in Old South Church in Boston while the minister read the letter aloud.

This moment was so important for Boston that it’s immortalized in a State House mural entitled “The Dawn of Tolerance in Massachusetts.” Sewall’s heart was so softened and opened by this pain that he became a leading advocate for the oppressed. He later went on to argue publicly for women’s rights and the full personhood of Native Americans, as well as to write the first anti-slavery tract on this soil.[1]

Samuel Sewall saw the error of his ways and became a champion for the rights of women, Native Americans and African-Americans. He worked primarily in the context of his church. He’s got his own memorial in the statehouse for being wrong and admitting it. From such humble beginnings, great things happen.

Confession isn’t en vogue right now. Even in this social media driven age, we hide behind selfies and layer on the image filters to put our best foot forward.

There is a yearning for truth-telling in our culture. One of my favorite truth-tellers is Glennon Melton. Her sister put a survey up on Facebook years ago. One of those early, simple, get-to-know-you things, called “25 Things About Me.” So Glennon wrote her 25 things, posted them, and THEN thought, “Maybe I should read what my friends posted.”

Here was her #5: I am a recovering alcoholic and bulimic. 7 years sober…so in many ways I’m actually 7 years old. Sometimes I miss excess booze and food, in the same indescribable way you can miss someone who abused you and repeatedly left you for dead.

And here was her best friend’s #5: My favorite game is Bunco![2]

To name what you’re struggling with, to confess your faults and what you believe in. because confess means both those things, right? Confess meaning to admit your fault. Confess meaning to declare your faith. Confess has something to do with being convicted, in both senses of the word. Convicted as in guilty and convicted as in convinced. It’s hard when a word has two meanings. Communication is hard, so let’s put this on the ground. I confess that apple pie is the best pie, that’s a confession of belief. I confess that I had the last piece and I’m not guilty about it is a confession of fault.

There is something that draws us in together to that sort of honesty. In the baring of a soul, our soul connects to it.

In seminary, we had to ready Augustine’s Confessions. In book II, Augustine goes on and on about stealing pears. Page after page of this guilt trip over pears. The farmer had a lot of pear trees. This wasn’t the only one. Surely the farmer wouldn’t have known they were missing. I had a hard time with that section until my professor explained it. Augustine wasn’t freaking out that he stole some pears. He was freaking out about the feeling he had from stealing them. “What pleasure I had in that theft.”[3] It’s not that he stole pears, it’s that he liked it.

Augustine is not on a guilt trip, he is writing from a place of wonder and fascination, a self-astonishment that many of us share. “Can you believe I did this?!”

Indeed, confession like this is good for the soul. Both in saying “I did this, I’m at fault.” As well as saying, “I believe in this.” Because both are connected. When we do wrong, it shows what we really believe.

If this is true, then I had better practice what I preach. Once a guy came up to me and said, “Why do we have a Prayer of Confession in the liturgy? I just don’t have anything to confess.”

Confession is good for the soul. It reminds us of what we’re about and how we can fail to live up to our own standards. Someone very wise once said that we judge others by their actions and we judge ourselves by our intentions. Confession is the gut check that sees if our actions are lining up with our intentions.

I intend to tell the truth. I intend to serve the Body of Christ and make sure our actions are lining up to our intentions. Because I confess that I believe the church has been and continues to be the greatest engine of change for our society and it is the greatest barrier to change at the same time. It is the greatest engine for unity and the greatest cause of division, at the same time.

At our best, church brings those of different political parties together in an increasingly divided world. Church brings people of different faith and ethnic backgrounds together in a segregated society. At our best, we bring people of difference classes, abilities, and educational levels together.

Walter Brueggemann once said that the church isn’t called to be the happiest place in town. It’s called to be the most honest. We show the honest through our confession. We confess what we believe and we confess how we have failed to live into our own values. And then do something about it… right?

Now I don’t know if it’s a gender thing or if it’s just my own ego and pride… but “I’m sorry” are the hardest two words I have to say. The burden of confession is on men. It is my hope that we can become like Samuel Sewall and Augustine and apologize. Women like Glennon are conditioned to apologize. Women apologize for everything in our society, even when they don’t have to. For asking a question, for stating a really good opinion, for offering advice… It is my hope that we men can follow the leadership of women, and women… TAKE leadership. Don’t apologize for it. I don’t. And I confess that I’m raising my daughter not to apologize for having good ideas, for knowing the direction a group should go, and for standing up for her self-worth.

A stumbling block has been placed in front of women, and it’s time to remove it. It’s time to remove those things that lead to hell. Jesus says hell is “where the fire never goes out.” Fires of anger, fires of desire and lust. Fires of pain and stress. Our culture is burning. Our world is burning with these flames. Wouldn’t it be great if a group stepped forward and worked to put out those flames? To cast out those demons and not hinder others in this good work? Wouldn’t that be a good thing?

I think we are that people. I think the church is that engine. I confess to you this day both how I believe the church is a great engine of unity just as I confess how we are a great web of division. I confess that my leadership style is more of the wide view and I confess that the details bore me. I need detail folks around me to help flesh out how we get the big idea of unity on the ground. I would like to think it would be learning to have good conversations where we disagree and not dehumanizing. I confess it’s hard for me.

I confess a part of my ego wants this to happen because I think our country needs it desperately and yet another part of my ego wants a mural on the wall of a courthouse about our church, like Samuel Sewall has in Boston. Confession is good for the soul. We’re called to confess.

It’s easy to speak in confession in broad terms and use the examples of others… but it gets hard when we get specific. On the cover is the American flag. This picture was taken at the dedication of the 9/11 memorial back in August. It was a good ceremony, but all through it I kept waiting for two words. No mention was made of forgiveness and reconciliation. None. Nor was any mention made of confessing the sins that led to the tragedy.

If you can’t say that something is wrong with the country, that’s not patriotism. That’s nationalism. Nationalism is saying your country is perfect and superior to all others. Patriotism is saying your country has problems and loving it anyway.

That man who said, “I don’t have anything to confess.” I was so dumbfounded. What do you make of such a statement? What do you make of such a person? What do you make of a society that produces such people unable to admit their faults?

Nothing to confess… Give me Augustine freaking out about stealing a pear any day! That guy is more in touch with his soul than that dude. The disciples don’t get what Jesus is about either, he’s always running away to pray. And some of those prayers had to be confessional prayers… “I don’t think I can do what you’re asking of me oh God. I’m hated by the religious. My own disciples don’t get it. My patience is thin. Be with me. Guide me. Lead me not into temptation…”

Confession saves us from the sin of pride and superiority. We get things wrong. We fail to follow Christ. Yet we still confess that Christ is the way, the truth, and the life. Jesus is the way, his ways are the best. To confess Jesus as Lord and Savior means both when we fail to follow and that we do follow. Confession in church reminds us of our shared values welcome, love, and service.

Welcome if you’re superior, is conformity. That’s not what we’re about.
Love, if you’re superior, is conversion. That’s not what we’re about.
Service, if you’re superior, means being served. That’s not what we’re about.

We’re about welcoming people as they are. Loving them as Christ loves them. And serving together to make our world a better place. It’s a humble stance, not a superior one.

It is my hope that you are moved to confess how you fail and may it remind you of what you believe. May it inspire you to become better, to do better… and in doing so, bless the whole world.

[1] Caldwell, Quinn. “In Praise of Guilt and Shame.” 2014 Calmly Plotting UCC Lent Devotionals. Page 31.
[2] https://momastery.com/blog/2014/07/03/throwback-thursday-begin-again/

[3] Augustine, Confessions. Penguin Classics,1961. Page 49.