I have recently been reading two books by Richard Wurmbrand, Tortured for Christ and In God’s Underground. Wurmbrand was a pastor in communist Romania in the years after WWII. He was imprisoned for 14 years; he was beaten and brutally tortured for his faith. In In God’s Underground, Wurmbrand tells stories of how he shared the truth of the gospel with his fellow prisoners. Often these prisoners were themselves former oppressors, torturers, and murderers. Many were avowed atheists, but when death drew near they found themselves crying out to Jesus.
Wurmbrand tells of one such person who began to confess his many sins; he had murdered, beaten, and tortured many people before he himself became a prisoner. His confession included how he had killed many Jews, not because he was ordered to do so, but because he knew he could. The next day, he admitted that there was still more to his sordid tale. He had shot children while they were in their mother’s arms, and when he ran out of bullets he beat the children to death. He died soon after his confession, perhaps having found peace in death that had escaped him during his life.
His confession led me to think about how we confess sins as Christians today. This morning I met with a pastor friend and had the opportunity to confess some of my own sins, but it’s too rare an occurrence in my life. It seems that we are often ready to admit that we are sinners, but we are much more hesitant to admit that we have actually sinned. Or if we have sinned, our sins are minor compared to the atrocities committed by others.
Do we truly believe the words of Christ, that if we have been angry with a brother or sister that we are subject to judgment, and if we have said “fool” we are in danger of the fire of hell (Matthew 5:21-22)? Or if we have looked at a woman lustfully, we have already committed adultery with her in our heart (Matthew 5:27-28)? We treat Jesus’ words as righteous hyperbole, designed to make us think, but perhaps his words reveal to us not just that we are sinners but that we have sinned. For some reason we find it easier to make the blanket claim that we are sinners; we struggle to utter the words that we are liars and murderers and haters and cheaters. Perhaps we have heard for so long to hate the sin but love the sinner that we have become convinced that we are worthy sinners because we are sinners who have hardly sinned.
The confession of this professed murderer and torturer seems to have been a prerequisite to any hope he had for faith in God. How could he hope for faith in God without confession of his many sins? But why is it different for us today? How many new Christians have you seen who have actually confessed their sins as part of their profession of faith, not just that they were sinners? Today, to confess that you are a sinner is enough without having to admit that you have actually sinned. Or perhaps we try this approach. Have you told a white lie? Well then you are a sinner because you have lied. This approach makes us feel better about our sins, as though the white lie is all that God has to hold against us, so surely he would forgive such a righteous sinner. “Oh yes, I’m a sinner. I remember one time when I told a white lie or stole a quarter when I was a kid, but thank God that He sent Jesus to die for me so that I could be forgiven of my little lies.”
The Colossians were told that they were once alienated from God and enemies of God in their minds because of their evil behavior (Colossians 3:21). But too often in my own mind I am a righteous sinner, worthy of Christ’s death on my behalf. I have been thinking a lot recently about what the gospel really is. I have often said that we can’t understand the good news of the gospel until we understand the bad news of our sin. But too often, far too often, I downplay my own sin, and I find that I am just that person who does not appreciate the goodness of the gospel because I am not willing to face the depths of my own sinfulness. Only when I see the depths of my own sin will I begin to fathom the riches of God’s mercy for a sinner such as I.
A Family of Faith 