Of Whom I am the Worst
The other day when I got home from a Bridal shower, I had one of the sheets of game questions in my purse. It was one of those games where you have to decide if the bride or groom would be more likely to do certain things like make the bed, get up early, etc. Just for fun, I posed some of the questions to my husband. After 3 years, its basically no secret to either of us who is more likely to clean the bathroom (Joshi) or cook dinner (me). I sheepishly read the question: Who will apologize first? He grinned as he looked at me and we both simultaneously agreed. He is way more likely to apologize first.
We live in a generation that in my opinion is terribly bad at apologizing. We are quick to see the wrongs and injustices in the world and call for change. But we are terrible at admitting the role we play in just about anything. And I feel like it’s fair of me to say that. Because I am more guilty of that than anyone else I know. I am horrible at apologizing.
The reasons behind the fear of admitting guilt are most likely different for everyone. For a person like me who is almost obsessed with creating and maintaining peace, to admit that I might be the cause of conflict feel traumatizing. What if I own my stuff and I am unable to fix it? What if people hold it against me? What if people leave me? None of it makes sense really. But I avoid being wrong because I can’t handle being wrong. If I don’t acknowledge it, maybe it is not true.
The thing is, we are not responsible for anyone but ourselves. No matter where we throw the blame, we are the only ones who can take action. Can I force someone to change their behavior? No. Can I change mine? Yes. It’s so easy to blame your husband, or your parents, or that friend you just don’t understand. It’s even easier to blame society, or easier yet the Church. But you will experience the most freedom and healing if you first ask, what is my role in this situation? Are there areas where I am wrong?
This can apply on a lot of fronts. Politically, I can take upon myself the responsibility to vote responsibly. Lobby to my Congresspeople. I can educate myself. Socially, I can be more responsible for my decisions and purchases. I can be more open with the people that I choose to be in relationships with.
But more personally, what does it look like to take responsibility? To have a humble and contrite spirit? It looks like admitting parts you play in broken relationships. It means taking grievances to others in hopes of reconciliation. It means admitting areas of brokenness and truly asking forgiveness, not hiding or justifying.
On a national level, I have heard some prominent Christians issue some really horrible apologies lately. “I am sorry for responding badly to how horrible that person acted. Let me tell you all the evil things they did.” is not a great apology if you don’t mind me saying so.
To walk in freedom means to say “Jesus came to save sinners, of whom I am the worst.” I want this statement of Paul’s to be a reality of my own life. To own your brokenness does not mean living in self-defeat. Or living as a victim to your own inherent sin nature. It means admitting that you are a sinner. That your failures affect others just as much as their failures affect you. It means to focus on righting your own relationship with the Lord instead of waiting for others to fix theirs with you.
But also, it means claiming the lifegiving fact that though you are a sinner, Christ came to save you. You are free and redeemed. Your past and present failures do not and will not define you. You do not need to be afraid of them. You can face your failures head-on, bringing them to our Savior, because He will forgive them. Taking them as far as the east is from the west.
If you are afraid of repentance because you feel like acknowledging areas in which you have been wrong will be like offering your enemies stones to throw at you, remember Jesus stopped the religious from throwing stones at the adulterous woman. He gave her grace and freedom.
And also remember Stephen. He was not spared from the stones. He did not escape physical injury. But Christ delivered Him and welcomed Him into eternity with open arms. Matthew says “Do not fear those who can kill the body and cannot kill the soul.” Do not allow fear of others to keep you from walking in contrition and humility. If they use your failures as weapons, you will experience temporary injury. But fear the one who is in charge of your soul. He calls us to humility and confession. He calls us to repentance. Because repentance saves the soul.
And I believe that the more we own our junk, the more we take responsibility for the ways we intentionally or unintentionally wrong others, we will see those around us putting down their weapons, and extending a hand of grace and mercy. That our humility and freedom to admit our failures without fear of shame will be more attractive to a lost world than any appearance of self-righteousness that we could portray in the name of protecting our image or it’s reflection on Christ and His Church.
God is not interested in image management. Nor is He interested in shaming His people. He is interested in a pure and contrite heart that leads to freedom and salvation, not just for us, but for the lost and dying world.
