Scot’s twelfth chapter, “Enlivened by Embrace,” explores our confession of sin, what Scot calls “truth-telling.” This is the first half of a two-parter on two aspects of faith: truth-telling (chapter 12) and embodiment (chapter 13). This chapter opens with a story of restoration (pp. 141-142) that was prompted by confession, telling the truth about one’s self before God. Scot writes: “Humans who become restored Eikons do so first of all by identifying themselves… The secret to unleashing the cycle of grace in our lives is to look at God and ourselves, identify who we see, and tell the truth to God” (p. 142).  

Confession of sin is generated by grasping things as they are, as they really are. What are some elements of the world as it really is that divinely-inspired faith perceives? Faith here catches a clear view of God and a clear view of ourselves. And as we'll see below, this also changes our view of others.

Looking Godward, the truth is that:

He knows. Yhwh knows already everything there is to know about us. Nothing is hidden; nothing escapes his notice. Our messy thoughts, our mixed motives, our buried heartache, our hidden shortcomings. The pastor to the Hebrews stated it plainly: “Nothing in all creation is hidden from God. Everything is naked and exposed before his eyes, and he is the one to whom we are accountable” (4:13). The Psalmist also wrote of our exposure before God: “I'm an open book to you;  even from a distance, you know what I'm thinking. You know when I leave and when I get back; I'm never out of your sight. You know everything I'm going to say before I start the first sentence” (Ps 139). To some, this kind of exposure would be shameful, almost frightening. But to the Psalmist it’s comforting. Why? Because the God who knows it the God who loves us.

He cares. The penetrating knowledge he has of our hearts does not cause him to reject us. No, it moves him to compassion. Our exposure in his presence leads to his embrace of us. Startling! Who else would respond that way?

He restores. God’s objective throughout is one of restoration. He seeks to draws us back to himself, restore his image in us, plug us into his community, and get us back on board with carrying his blessing into the world.  

Our response can be one of two options:

Doubt and uncertainty.

• “Does he know? Does he really know our hearts? Can’t we hide things from God? Perhaps if we keep our confessions to ourselves we can fool him.” But any attempt to keep things from God suggests that we don’t think he would still embrace us if he really knew us. That’s crazy!
• “Does he care?” He knows more about us that we know about ourselves. And he loves us more than anyone else. Our exposure does not exclude our embrace.
• “Does he restore? Is he really in the business of putting the pieces of our lives together, of healing broken places and reconnecting shattered relationships?”

When these facts of reality are called into question, we’re tempted to hide our faults, to put on a false face, to pretend we’re not who we really are, or to cast our blame on others. Why do we do this? Because we must not be convinced that he knows, he cares, he restores. Perhaps we’re projecting the reality of cracked Eikons back onto God. Perhaps we’re mistaking God for our human parents who may not have been so good at embracing the exposed. The other alternative to doubt and uncertainty is…

Acceptance and affirmation.

• If our God is really knowledgeable, caring, and committed to reconciliation, then we are moved to come out of the closet, to step into the light, to come clean, to fess us, and in so doing, to experience the freedom of being accepted just as we are.  Brennan Manning’s The Ragamuffin Gospel makes this point again and again. (For info on this book, see our library page.)
• And if we are embraced just as we are, then we are moved to accept others on the same terms. We treat others in ways that display what we think of how God treats us. If are embrace fellow Eikons with all their cracks, then that shows we live in a world where cracked Eikons are embraced. If we reject, condemn, exclude, criticize, or alienate others with cracks we don’t approve of, then we show that we really don’t believe in grace. It’s a simple test.

Two Stories of Stepping into the Light

1.  Genesis 3:8-13

Genesis chapters 1-2 relate the story of creation that we’ve discussed earlier. Here we learn that we humans were designed to reflect his character and commitments by walking with him and working alongside him as he seeks to expand the Garden to encompass the whole earth. Then in chapter 3, after our foolish venture in mistrusting God’s goodness and wisdom, we encounter our first opportunity to step back into the light, to tell the truth, to fess us, to get right with God. How do we do? We flail. We hide, we deny, we blame-shift. Big mistake. This was our chance to get back on track.

What falsehoods about God and about ourselves undergird this series of blunders? Are we here convinced that God already knows? Then why would be try to hide? Do we think he cares? Do we know he’s committed to our restoration? Then why would we deny our part in the crime? Why would we try to shift the blame? Is it really advantageous to hide, deny, and blame?

Remember sin is not just a violation of some abstract code of laws. It is a breach of relationship, like beating your children, cheating on your wife, or stealing from your parents. We explored this relational aspect of sin in an earlier discussion Cracked Eikons: A Story of Relationships.

2. Luke 7:36-50

This is an illuminating story of contrasts. As you read through the narrative note the differences between Simon the Pharisee and the unnamed repentant woman. She has come into the light, sees things clearly, and responds accordingly. He, on the other hand, has not stepped into the light. Hence, he doesn’t see clearly and is unable to respond to Jesus appropriately. These two are different in their social status, their perceived need of grace, their indebtedness to Jesus and their love for him, and their view of others.

She is humbled by her sin, which drives her to Jesus. Knowing that she is exposed, yet embraced moves her to tears. She is overwhelmed with grief, gratitude, and affection for Jesus. At the feet of Jesus, she finds forgiveness, grace, and transformation, and leaves with his public affirmation.

The smug, self-righteous religious man, however, refuses to step into the light. He doesn’t want to be a truth-teller. Apparently, he prefers his vaunted (but false) position of elevation in which he can esteem himself proudly for his religious accomplishments and look down on others who haven’t been as committed as he has. He sees no need to extend even common courtesies to Jesus his guest.

This woman knew that Jesus knows, he cares, and he seeks to restore. So she didn’t hesitate to step into the light, to have her sins exposed and forgiven, to have her heart cleansed and renewed. But because Simon clutched his delusion firmly he didn’t realize his need and so didn’t see any need to seek forgiveness.

To see this passage explored in a practical fashion from the angle of Jesus’ embrace of sinners and our view of others, listen to Greg Boyd’s sermon, “Extravagant Forgiveness, Extravagant Love” (June 24, 2007), posted on our “Supplemental Excerpts and Sermons” page.

The Posture of Confession

When we position ourselves at Jesus’ feet, humble, grateful, generous, forgiven, we find our perspective of others changed. From this posture, we look at everybody as equals—equals before the grace of God. From this posture we can longer look down on others who don’t share our status, our convictions, our beliefs, our morals, our voting record, our sexual preferences, our denominational affiliations, our tastes, our styles, our cultural habits. The ground is level at the foot of the cross, they say.

If we find ourselves feeling smug and superior to others, is it perhaps that we’ve left our position at Jesus’ feet and have climbed into Simon’s chair? I don’t think that’s a place we’d like to remain. “God is opposed to the proud, but gives grace to the humble” (Prov 3:34; James 4:6; 1 Peter 5:5). Best come down from there, step back into the light, resume a humble posture and see others in God’s light. We cracked Eikons have the privilege of seeing ourselves in solidarity with all fellow sinners.

From Simon’s elevated posture he senses no need for grace. From his faulty point-of-view, this cracked Eikon doesn’t know he’s cracked. There is an opposite mistake, too. Some people go to the other extreme. Instead of finding their place embraced in grace, they think they are too sinful to be forgiven. These cracked Eikons emphasize their “crackedness” and ignore their Eikonic status. From their faulty point-of-view, they sense no hope for grace. They think they are beyond the pale. But that is just as bad a posture as Simon assumes. He excludes himself from grace because he thinks he’s too good. At the other extreme, they exclude themselves from grace because they believe themselves too bad. Either way, God is not known to be one who knows, who cares, who restores. Assuming the humble posture of confession, where we are exposed and embraced, guards us from these two extremes of thinking either too highly of ourselves or too lowly of ourselves. It's best to think properly of ourselves, as God views us.

Why Bother Confessing?

Our confession of sin, our truth-telling, draws us into the light, and re-postures us at the feet of Jesus, overwhelmed with grief, gratitude, and affection. Here we find grace, here we respond with generosity. From this position we see things aright. We see God as knowing, caring, restoring. We see ourselves as humble, forgiven, exposed, embraced. We see others with compassion, as needy and broken, as equals. And we get up from our confession with Jesus’ injunction to “go and sin no more” (John 8:11).

1 John 1:8-9. If we claim we have no sin, we are only fooling ourselves and not living in the truth. But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness.

Matthew 6:9-12. Jesus tell us, “Pray like this: Our Father in heaven…Give us today the food we need, and forgive us our sins, as we have forgiven those who sin against us.”

The request for forgiveness is to comprise an indispensible element of our daily prayer. It is the means by which we find forgiveness and cleansing.

Is this our daily prayer?