Making Confession

I've been thinking about confession lately. I'm in a seminary class on Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and I'm doing a final project on his work Life Together. Apparently Bonhoeffer was a big proponent of following the biblical practice of confessing our sins to one another. According to Geffrey Kelly, Life Together's editor, this did not go over so well with Bonhoeffer's community of seminary students.

Notes Kelly: "[Bonhoeffer] suggested that they might want to confess their sins privately to each other or else to him as the director of the community. This surprised them and, for some, even stirred up resentment, since it was not considered the 'Protestant' thing to do."

Still, he persevered in advocating for confession, both to God (who is the one who forgives) and to one another, as a way to help break the illusion of perfection and to free people from the secret shame of sin. And eventually he won over his community, and they began to confess to one another, to forgive one another, and to grow together.

While I was attending an Anglican church back in Chicago, during Holy Week the pastors and deacons would offer confession. Not because they could forgive, but because Christ forgives and because speaking our sins aloud, to one another in the presence of Christ, is freeing and healing.

I'm still mulling all this over during this Holy Week. What does it mean for us to "confess your sins, one to another"? All of my thinking about confession brought to my mind a poem by one of my former professors (and favorite poets), David Wright. It's in his book "Lines from the Provinces" which is filled with poetry about Chicago El train rides, liturgical practices, and the lonely plains of his home state of Illinois.

Making Confession
by David Wright

Confess several sins right off, first date--
           Your selfishness, your love of candy
           The child you fathered in high school
           How much you hate your mother's cooking
           How much you love your mother.

Later, see what tolerance she has for real depravity:

            if she empathizes and forgives too quickly

            if she looks understanding but keeps a list

                        of flaws to help you overcome

            or if she simply sees through the ruse

                        of safe sins and habits of the past

                        if she knows how they will mask

                        tomorrow’s or today’s snarled lip

                        rolled eyes flared nostrils

                        that will wilt clichéd roses

                        you deliver to reconcile things done

                        and undone unforgivable in the present.

At last, confess your future faithless words

            impatient hours of pretending to listen

            making up wisdom on the spot

            having sex when you should make love

            making love when sex would be enough.

And if she calls them by name, sin, and confesses

            they will matter will make her wonder

            why she chose you a rock in her shoe

            working its way into her tough heel and sole

            then kiss her refill her coffee knowing

            just how much cream she takes

            and tell her all the wicked news she can stand

            never letting go of her small angry hand.