“Confess your sins to one another,” Saint James instructs us, “that we may be healed” (James 5:16). This Lent I am saying I need healing, so let me confess. I’ll share a story that I do not like to recall, but in the spirit of Lent I’ll share just a little bit of my brokenness. When I was in high school I was a class clown. I’m still one, but I was often mean-spirited and crude to people who did not deserve it—who does? A few years ago, I was at the movies, as is my weekly routine—‘second Church’ my dad calls it. A woman my age approached me and said that because of the bullying I participated in, and often started, she thought about killing herself as a teen. We went to high school together. Shocked, I offered apologies and she said she did not forgive me.
It is easy to run this story through a standard, pedantic Christian morality. I could turn this story into a lesson—beware kids, what goes around comes around—and certainly it is a lesson, but I think this experience offers a deeper reflection about our shared brokenness and my singular sin.
I have and often continue to do wrong. I am singularly responsible for that. Simply put, that is my fault. I do not blame my youth or anyone else for the sin I have done. It broke my God’s heart. On the other hand, people have wounded me deeply, in a myriad of ways, which is not my fault. Your parents’ divorce, the death of a loved one, the taunts of a colleague, the disappointment of your children is not your fault. God’s heart breaks with yours. This Lent we should acknowledge that what we have done to others and also what has been done to us, ask forgiveness, recognize our brokenness, and feel God’s love. That’s what Lent is all about. It is not about God punishing us. It is about recognizing that sin punishes us.
The pain I have caused does not define me nor does the pain my former classmate experienced define her. I have come to realize that I am refined, not defined, by the hurt I’ve caused and experienced. That revelation takes radical self-awareness, and until this past year, attaining that self-awareness was the hardest thing I have ever done.
Don’t get me wrong: Real sin has real repercussions, but God’s love is always there. The example I give to my students is spilt milk. If spilling milk was a sin and we did it purposefully and then ran to God saying, ‘My Lord, I am sorry for spilling the milk,’ the Lord forgives us instantly. He doesn’t care about spilt milk. He cares about us, but we may have to do the chore of cleaning up the milk. The mess of milk on the floor is what sin has done. It isn’t God punishing us. God forgives the adulterer, though the spouse may leave. God forgives the thief, though sin has placed the thief in jail. God forgave me, even if I may not have a lot of friends from high school.
God isn’t punishing us. Sin is! This Lent His arms are open. Let us run to Him, to the confessional, to the altar. We are forgiven the moment we desire it in our hearts. Come to Church, the doors are open, at least to talk about how to clean up the spilt milk. Happy Lenten journey. Godspeed.
I’ll be seeing you,
Elliot