Mid-life Mayhem…

No! Not me. King David…you know? King David of Israel. It had to be mid-life mayhem. Some call it a mid-life crisis. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

What am I talking about? I’m talking about David’s tryst with Bathsheba (2 Samuel 11 & 12), and his subsequent cover-up. Here’s how the encounter begins:

11 In the spring, at the time when kings go off to war, David sent Joab out with the king’s men and the whole Israelite army. They destroyed the Ammonites and besieged Rabbah. But David remained in Jerusalem.

One evening David got up from his bed and walked around on the roof of the palace. From the roof he saw a woman bathing. The woman was very beautiful, and David sent someone to find out about her. The man said, “She is Bathsheba, the daughter of Eliam and the wife of Uriah the Hittite.” Then David sent messengers to get her. She came to him, and he slept with her. (Now she was purifying herself from her monthly uncleanness.) Then she went back home. The woman conceived and sent word to David, saying, “I am pregnant.”

According to the biblical chronology, David was somewhere between ages 49 – 56 when this event occurred (see here).

So, all week long I’ve been asking myself, “How could David do such an obviously wrong thing?” I mean, seriously, he is God’s anointed one, a “man after God’s own heart,” the poet of Israel, the one who was/is the foreshadow of Messiah. How does he fall, and so obviously and precipitously? It just doesn’t make sense. What could it be?

I thought, perhaps, it was boredom. Here’s David lounging around in the spring of the year, sleeping until afternoon, hanging around an empty palace (all his warriors are off at war). The proverb “idle minds are the devil’s playground” is true. Perhaps if David had been productively occupied, say out with his warriors, this might not have happened.

Maybe David had a sense of entitlement at work. You know? He was thinking, “I’m the King. No one says ‘No,’ to the King. I can do what I want.”

While it is true that Israel was governed by the Mosaic Law, and the Mosaic Law was very specific concerning the act of adultery, I wonder if David saw all the surrounding kings who WERE the law in their kingdoms, and thought, “I can make my own law,” or thought he wasn’t subject to the law. Yeah, it’s a stretch, but I’m trying to make sense of it all.

Some have suggested that it wasn’t a sin for David to be with Bathsheba. Under this line of reasoning, David instituted the practice of issuing a “conditional divorce” to soldiers going off to war in case they were lost in action so that their widows would be free to re-marry legally. Uriah was conditionally divorced from Bathsheba because he was at war. According to this reasoning, David’s sin wasn’t adultery, it was the murder of Uriah and its cover-up. I’m not sure I buy it, but it is an interesting perspective.

I’m not justifying David’s actions with these excuses. Just trying to understand his actions. Nothing justifies David’s actions. Nothing justifies our sin. Suffice it to say that this episode in the history of Israel and the life of David stands as a cautionary tale for all of us. May I share some of the cautions I’ve noticed as I’ve reflected on David’s actions?

Caution #1: Everyone is subject to the power of sin.

No one (not even David) is perfect. David had a human heart (even if it was one after God’s own) just like the rest of us. As the Apostle James reminds us:

14 but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. 15 Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death (James 1: 14 – 15 NIV).

Yes, David (up to this moment) has been the foreshadow of Jesus Christ, but this moment is the pivot of David’s life. Before this moment, the biblical writers portray only the triumphs of his life. He is anointed as king. He wins mighty victories over his enemies. The nation writes songs about him and celebrate his victories. He becomes king, and a good one, too. He shows mercy to his enemies. He reunited the Kingdom of Judah and the nation of Israel. He is riding high in Israel.

Events after this encounter are recorded as pure tragedy. He loses a child (the child born of this tryst), he has a son rape one of his daughters. Another son kills that son. Children revolt. David flees. He gets old and dies. Literally, the triumphs of David’s life turn to the tragedies of David’s life, and this is the pivot point.

Before this moment, David is (appropriately) compared to Jesus Christ. From this moment, David is contrasted to Jesus Christ, and we discover that even David needs Jesus, for even he is subject to the power of sin.

Even the chronicler of 1 & 2 Kings saw this as the pivotal event of David’s life:

For David had done what was right in the eyes of the Lord and had not failed to keep any of the Lord’s commands all the days of his life—except in the case of Uriah the Hittite (1 Kings 15: 5 NIV).

Caution #2: Sin destroys everything.

David’s family fell apart. Uriah lost his life. Bathsheba lost her family and a child. Sin, this sin, destroyed it all.

Yes, David repented of his sin (see 2 Samuel 12 and Psalm 51), but repentance doesn’t negate the consequences of our sin. We are left with pain and grief caused by the brokenness of sin.

Yes, salvation in Jesus Christ saves us from the penalty of sin (Romans 6: 23), and he (along with John Wesley) says we are saved from sin’s power (Romans 6: 14), but nowhere does the bible indicate that salvation in Jesus saves us from the consequences of sin.

Caution #3: Everything is not enough.

David had it all. He was famous. Fame didn’t satisfy him.

David had success. He had won great victories on the battlefield and reunified the nation. He had brought the Ark of the Covenant back to Jerusalem. Success didn’t satisfy him.

David had great wealth. Kings from surrounding kingdoms were paying him. tribute money and he was adding his wealth to the treasury to build the glory of Israel–the Temple. His great wealth didn’t satisfy him.

He had everything, yet he wanted more.

The blessings of the economic realities of the United States of America has created a very comfortable environment for all of us. Our success has left us wanting more, more, more. In all our pursuit of more, we are moving further and further away from the Lord. We’re busy chasing anything to fill the emptiness only God can fill.

Caution #4: Anything might be legal, but not everything is moral.

David may, in fact, have seen himself as the law of the land, and by a simple edict established anything as legal. But, just because something is legal doesn’t make it moral. When man’s law and God’s law come up against each other, God’s law will win every time. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But, ultimately, God’s law will prevail.

Perhaps David had already experienced this reality. We know that Genesis 2 is explicit in God’s plan for marriage–a man and woman become one flesh. Yet, David had 8 wives (at least 8!). Yes, it was legal, but legal doesn’t mean moral.

Yes, gay marriage may be legal. Legal doesn’t mean moral.

Yes, abortion may be legal. Legal doesn’t mean moral.

Yes, gambling may be legal. Legal doesn’t mean moral.

Yes, it may be legal for the United Methodist Church to seize all the property of the local congregation. Legal doesn’t mean moral (Yes! I went there!)

Finding Jesus.

As I always do, I need to find Jesus in these Old Testament accounts. Where can I see Jesus in this unfortunate episode in David’s and Bathsheba’s lives?

Well, Jesus is certainly present in their genealogy. Matthew’s Gospel mentions Bathsheba in Jesus’ family tree, so there’s the literal sense in which Jesus is present.

Beyond that, though, I see God’s sovereignty at work in all the brokenness of their lives. God’s will is accomplished (salvation comes through Jesus) even though David is disobedient and sinful. There is hope for me yet. All my broken, sinful attitudes and actions will not thwart God’s plan. For that I am grateful.

What a testament to God’s grace! It’s all grace, and Jesus came so that we might know the grace of God up close and personal. Repentance is grace. Forgiveness is grace.

What a great lesson to learn in mid-life (or at any other point in life). It’s a lesson I’m learning a little past mid-life, but I pray that I AM learning it.

Coming to understand the depths of God’s grace opens us to a new (or renewed) gratitude for Him. No, it won’t necessarily change my circumstances, but it will change my perspective and attitude. It can, literally, give me new life–God’s life in Jesus Christ.

Oh, that I should be so blessed.

Until next time, keep looking up…

A Man After God’s Heart…

Israel’s King David is (perhaps) the most well-known religious figure in the world besides Jesus Christ. He certainly is to the Jewish people and to most Christians. Honestly, to most Christians (and not a few Jews) he’s almost superhuman.

I bring David up because I’ve been meditating on his life, and particularly his calling (anointing as king) all week long. I’ve preached the passage before, and I’m preaching it again this week, but as I’ve studied and meditated this week, I just can’t seem to get to the “heart” of one particular passage of Scripture:

But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16: 7 NIV)

I have been stuck on the phrase, “the Lord looks at the heart” all week. I’ve asked myself three questions all week long:

  1. What does the Lord see when He looks at the human heart?
  2. What did the Lord see when He looked at David’s heart?
  3. What does the Lord see when He looks at my heart?

The Context

I suppose I should set the context for the passage. It was the period of the Judges in Israel’s history when the people began clamoring for a King (1 Samuel 8). Samuel’s time as prophet/judge was drawing to a close and the people rejected his sons, who had been tapped to take his place. Samuel’s sons were corrupt and the people knew it. They wanted different leadership.

The lesson in that is be careful what you ask for. You might just get it. What the people got was their first king named Saul. Saul, who was “the most handsome man in all Israel–head and shoulders above everyone else in the land” (1 Samuel 9:2). Unfortunately this tall handsome guy turned out to be half-crazy and disobedient, and was ultimately rejected by God as King of Israel (1 Samuel 15).

Enter God’s call to Samuel to anoint another King in Saul’s place, and this takes us to the sleepy little town outside Jerusalem called Bethlehem where Jesse and his family keep flocks for a living. Jesse is the grandson of Ruth and Boaz (find their story here), and the Lord tells Samuel to go and anoint one of Jesse’s sons as the new King He has chosen for His people Israel.

Samuel is hesitant to do so (What if Saul finds out?), so the Lord tells Samuel to go to Bethlehem to offer a sacrifice and invite Jesse’s family to the sacrifice, and while you’re at it, take the horn of oil–kinda’ keep it out of sight until the time is right–and when I tell you, anoint a new King.

I could chase a rabbit here and explore the idea that God uses deception to accomplish His will, but that’s for another day. I’m just going to leave that thought right there because I really want to understand what God sees when He looks at David’s (and my) heart.

Samuel makes the trek to Bethlehem, invites Jesse’s family and begins to parade Jesse’s sons before the gathered body. Eliab, the oldest, is brought forward first. “Surely,” Samuel thinks, “this is the one.” He’s the oldest, so it’s got to be him, right? Wrong!

It’s then that the Lord announces to Samuel verse 7. See, Samuel just can’t get past appearances. Eliab is the oldest, perhaps the tallest, too. Samuel uses the same standard for David that was used for the previous King, Saul. Even the prophet/judge Samuel misses the mark. He does what we all are prone to doing–we like judging a book by its cover. The Lord says, “Not so fast!”

In order from oldest to youngest, seven of Jesse’s sons are brought to Samuel. All seven are rejected. Finally, Samuel asks Jesse if there are any more sons. “Yes,” he replies, “but he’s the youngest and he’s busy tending the flocks since you’ve got the rest of us here.”

“Send for him,” Saul says. “We’re not having supper until he gets here.”

David arrives. He is the chosen one. Saul anoints him as Israel’s next King. The Lord looked past his appearance and saw his heart.

This is where it gets really sticky for me. I (along with countless pastors in the past) have preached that there was something special about David’s heart. If we could just figure out what that was, we could learn how to be “people after God’s own heart” (1 Samuel 13:14 and Acts 13:22).

Godly Character

Yeah, I came up with lots of good sermon material. I can easily come up with 10 characteristics that reflect David’s heart. All one has to do is read the Psalms:

Humility – Lowborn men are but a breath, the highborn are but a lie; if weighed on a balance, they are nothing; together they are only a breath. Psalm 62:9

Reverence – I call to the Lord, who is worthy of praise, and I am saved from my enemies. Psalm 18:3

Respectfulness – Be merciful to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and my body with grief. Psalm 31:9

Trust – The LORD is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid? Psalm 27:1

Loving – I love you, O Lord, my strengthPsalm 18:1

Devotion – You have filled my heart with greater joy than when their grain and new wine abound. Psalm 4:7

Recognition – I will praise you, O Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonders. Psalm 9:1

Faithfulness – Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever. Psalm 23:6

Obedience – Give me understanding, and I will keep your law and obey it with all my heart. Psalm 119:34

Repentance – For the sake of your name, O Lord, forgive my iniquity, though it is great. Psalm 25:11

Yeah, that would make a great (and long) sermon. Hey, if I could just exhibit those characteristics, I’d be a great Christian. The Lord would see my heart and He’d just smile.

A Dose of Reality

But, there are two passages of Scripture that have given me “heart-burn” as I’ve prayed over this passage. The first is found in Jeremiah 17: 9-10:

The heart is deceitful above all things
    and beyond cure.
    Who can understand it?

10 “I the Lord search the heart
    and examine the mind,
to reward each person according to their conduct,
    according to what their deeds deserve.”

The second is in Romans:

There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, 23 for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, 24 and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. (Romans 3: 22b-24 NIV)

In light of Jeremiah 17 and Romans 3, I’m not so sure David had a great heart. I’m not so sure I do, either!

Yes, David could be all the things we talked about. He could have great faith and be wonderfully obedient. He could show proper reverence, respect and humility. He could be a great leader of people. He could be all those things, but he could also be an adulterer and murderer (2 Samuel 11). Let’s not forget that he was a less than stellar parent, too (2 Samuel 13-14).

I, too, want to say I have a heart after God’s heart, but then I look at my own heart and think, “Do I really?” No! I’m much like Rev. Alexander Whyte, who upon receiving great praise from one of his happy congregants, replied, “Madam, if you could see my heart, you’d spit in my face.”

Yes, being able to develop godly characteristics will always make me a better person, but being a better person will not save me. Only Jesus Christ can save me! How do I get from my sad, sinful heart to God’s heart? Only through Jesus Christ. He is the key. That must be what God sees when He looks at David’s heart. I pray it is what He sees when He looks at mine.

How so?

I take my clue from John Woodhouse, who translates the passage thusly: “For the Lord sees not as man sees, for man sees according to the eyes, but the Lord sees according to the heart.” It is a subtle, but major difference in this and the translation of most interpreters. In this rendering, it is God’s heart that He sees…meaning that David was chosen according to God’s purpose, just as Israel was “chosen” by God.

God views everything according to His own intentions and purposes. what I mean is that God’s choice is not on account of any peculiar fondness that he has for David—not because he has a particular liking to David, a liking that he doesn’t share for the other brothers, or that David has a peculiar and special quality which makes him attractive to God.

What it means is the fact that God, because he is God and because he is sovereign, is able to divinely select the one who is to be the king. And what it has to deal with is the fact of God’s electing (we Wesleyans hate that word) love rather than some notion of the suitability of a particular person.

Our Only Hope

It’s not that David’s heart was full of God, but rather that God’s heart was full of David. It was God looking through David’s heart to see Jesus Christ. It’s all about the place the man has in God’s heart rather than the place God has in the man’s heart.

I can only trust that when God looks at my heart, he sees Jesus Christ. If He doesn’t, I am lost, indeed, for only in Jesus Christ can I find redemption, reconciliation and salvation. He alone is my source of hope. I will put my trust in Him alone.

I’ve probably muddied the waters for everyone except myself, but I have, at least for myself, gotten to the “heart” of the matter. After all, every event in the Old Testament is leading us to Jesus. My own righteousness is as filthy rags (Isaiah 64:6). I can’t depend on my own heart. I can only depend on the loving heart of God.

I want to be a man who has a place in God’s heart.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Meanderings from a Muddled Mind…

So, motivation is key, right? Well, I’m not motivated to write this morning, but write I do because writing is a discipline and I NEED to be disciplined. That, and I might disappoint the 12 of you who read my writing regularly, and anyone who knows me knows I hate to disappoint anyone (though I so often do).

Writing helps me process things I’ve been thinking about. It helps to bring clarity to certain issues and it keeps me in practice for writing sermons on the (ever more) rare occasions that I’m invited to preach somewhere.

It becomes too easy to pull out an old sermon, dust it off and freshen it up, and preach it again. I don’t like doing that (though I have) because it seems to me that the Lord has something fresh to say, and I would hope (and pray) that He might actually want to say it through me.

Things that Muddle

There are a few things that I need to process, but I won’t process them via this venue. Too many of them are political in nature and doing so would probably alienate half (of the 12) the people who read. Processing them via this venue also might bring no clarity because this election cycle may be hopeless in trying to make sense out of anything that happens.

I really am befuddled that in a nation of over 350 million people that we are stuck with the two choices before us, and that we still have nearly seven months to hear all the foolishness that’s coming our way.

Another issue I’m processing is my increasing impatience with the way people drive. One thing I’ve learned over the past two and half years in the oil business is that people can’t drive. Seriously, people can’t drive! That’s probably one of the reasons insurance rates are so high in Louisiana.

And, drivers are so inconsiderate when they’re driving…but, I’m starting to process, so I’ll move on. I don’t want to come across as an angry curmudgeon, and if I continue that’s exactly what I’ll do. Let me simply say, “Please, drivers, put your phones down and pay attention. Someone’s going to get killed.”

So, moving on…

Heros

I’ve been thinking about biblical heroes and trying to process an understanding of what actually constitutes a hero. When I think about biblical heroes I think about the likes of Moses, David, Paul and (of course) Jesus. Others that come to mind are Joseph, Joshua and Esther. Every one of us could make a list and each list would be different, but surely those names would appear on everyone’s list.

As I’ve pondered the subject, though, I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s only one hero in the Bible, and that would be Jesus. Yes, there are many people in the Bible who did heroic things, but all of them (save Jesus) were broken, fallen people. I mean, really, Moses was a murderer. David was a murderer AND an adulterer. Abraham was a liar who was more than ready to put his wife out in front of an on-coming caravan to save his own skin.

I think about the Apostle Paul, without whom we wouldn’t have the New Testament and who is singularly responsible for the growth of the early church, but who was also responsible for jailing (and even killing?) the early followers of Jesus.

It was Paul who wrote “love is not boastful” (1 Corinthians 13: 4), but who also wrote, “I will boast, too…” (2 Corinthians 11: 19ff). The apostle who wrote “love keeps no record of wrongs” (1 Corinthians 13: 5) was the same apostle who recited a laundry list of wrongs that had been done to him (2 Corinthians 11: 23ff).

Paul came across as arrogant to some. Well, if he came across that way, he probably was that way. Arrogance is so off-putting and would not be at the top of the list of quality characteristics of a follower of Jesus.

I don’t mean to make “anti-heroes” of the biblical characters. I rather think that it means the Lord can make heroes out of us…that He actually wants to make heroes out of us. Our stores are no different than their stories (well, maybe we’re not all murderers?), and just as the Lord used them in His story, so He wants to use us in His story. As I’ve written in other places: It’s not about discovering where Jesus fits into our story, but about discovering where we fit into His story.

It’s His Story

Honestly, I’m still trying to discover where I fit into His story. I once thought I knew, but circumstances beyond my control (and a few within my control) only served to confuse me. But, I’m still searching because I believe He still wants to use me, even as broken, bruised and battered as I am. I might add old to that list, too. That’s okay, though. Moses was old when God used him. Abraham and Sarah were old when God used them. There’s hope for us all–even us old angry curmudgeons.

Sorry if I’ve given you a glimpse into my muddled mind. It only comes as a result of me having nothing to write about, but wanting desperately to keep the discipline of writing. Please don’t hold it against me, and might I ask you to pray that the Lord would give me something to write about next week.

So, what are you processing? Where do you find yourself fitting into His story? Why not share them in the comments with the other eleven people who read my blog?

Until next time, keep looking up…

Closet Space…

I love old homes. They have character, charm and history, and they have high ceilings. Most old homes have front porches, too. I love front porches. For all the warmth, charm and character old homes have, they often leave a lot to be desired. For one thing, the floors creak when you walk. For another, the wind whistles through the windows, and of course, in the winter the heat gets trapped up in those high ceilings, and that makes the home cold. When we lived in Kentucky, the church there had a fantastic, old parsonage (100 years old). Five bedrooms—the largest parsonage we ever lived in. With four children, it was great! There was one thing about that old parsonage, though, that we never quite got used to—no closets. Well, there were closets. They were just small. The upstairs closets particularly weren’t really closets at all. They were really just the crawl space between the wall and the slanted roof on the house. You had to duck to walk in the “closet.”old place

That’s the thing about old houses. Most were built in a time when life was less crowded with stuff. People didn’t need big closets. Now, one of the primary selling points of a home is its closet space. We want lots of closets so we can store our stuff. There’s stuff we put in those closets that we forget about. Sometimes we put stuff in the closet because we don’t know what else to do with it. So, we just keep needing bigger and bigger closets.

Every one of us has a closet we’d as soon forget, though. Like all our other closets, it too, has gotten bigger and fuller. It’s the closet where we keep all our skeletons. We all have skeletons in our closets. They are not pretty, and we’re afraid someone will find out, and finding out, will judge or condemn us. We all have those skeletons, and they’re there just waiting to destroy us. Actually, it’s the fear of being found out that is destroying us.

The Psalmist David had one of those closets, too. David writes a sad, sad song  with Psalm 51 as a result of a prophet named Nathan showing up to remind him of a few skeletons David was hiding. This song was a reminder to David of a very sad time in his life, but it’s also a song of hope in the grace and forgiveness of God.

Let me offer a little reminder of David’s life to set the context of the song. David was a young shepherd boy tapped from the pastures of his father’s flock to be anointed king over all Israel. David was described in scripture as “a man after God’s own heart.” David had battled and defeated the giant Goliath, and won many other victories over his enemies. There was a time in his life when he was at the pinnacle of his success. He had reunited the divided nation of Israel. He returned the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem, and he was making plans for building a glorious Temple for God. Things were going very well for David. So well, in fact, that David no longer felt it necessary to go out to do battle with his army. Samuel tells us in 2nd Samuel 11 it “was the time of year when kings went to war, David sent Joab and the Israelite army to destroy the Ammonites.” It was during that time that David, arising from an afternoon nap, strolled out onto the palace roof outside his bedroom and beheld a beautiful woman. His passion rose within him, and blinded by his own pride, success and position, David believed he could have anything he wanted—including another man’s wife.

Let me make a long story short—David slept with this beautiful woman named Bathsheba. She became pregnant. David tried to cover the affair up, but failed. David even had Bathsheba’s husband, Uriah (one of his best soldiers) killed. Adultery (which this day and age, seems to be the only sexual sin frowned upon), lying, conspiracy, murder—yes, David was filling that closet full of skeletons, and here comes Nathan throwing open the door.

Nathan learned what David had done, and at the Lord’s urging, confronted David. I want you think about the courage it took for Nathan to confront David. David was king, for heaven’s sake! Nathan was risking his life. Accountability always involves risk. The right thing to do is always costly.

Nathan confronted David by telling him a story about a rich man and a poor man. The rich man had many sheep and other livestock, but the poor man only had one little sheep that he held in his arms, and became the family pet. The rich man had a visitor from out of town, and rather than taking a sheep from his own flock, went and took the poor man’s sheep. David became enraged and demanded that the person who did this must die after repaying the poor man four times over what he had taken. Nathan looked intently at David and said, “You da’ man!” The title of this sad song tells us Nathan’s confrontation led David to write what has become perhaps the world’s most famous confession. What David discovered was that rather than being destroyed by all those skeletons, he found cleansing and renewal when the closet got cleaned out.

Confession is hardly ever practiced by Protestant Christians anymore, but I believe there is redemptive power in hearing someone say to us, “Your sins are forgiven.” I suspect we don’t practice confession because we believe someone would be shocked to hear us confess to some sin or shortcoming. We probably see it as no one’s business, and perhaps that’s how David saw it, too. Could it also be that we’ve come to see the church as a fellowship of “saints” rather than what it really is—a fellowship of sinners, and we see ourselves as the only one who has not taken what Richard Foster called “the high road to heaven?” As David discovers, confession is redemptive, and redemption is good for the soul.

Guilt, especially unresolved guilt, will destroy us. Listen to David’s plea in verse 3—“my shameful deeds haunt me day and night.” To overcome sin in our lives, we have to move from guilt to grace. Grace heals and transforms us. Confession is the bridge that gets us from guilt to grace. There are basically four types of guilt. First, civil guilt is that guilt that comes because we have driven over the speed limit, or run a red light. It is objective. We’re guilty whether we ever get caught or not. Secondly, theological guilt comes from breaking one of God’s commandments, and it, too is objective. We may or may not feel remorse, but if we have broken one of the commandments, we’re guilty. The Apostle Paul speaks of our theological guilt in Romans 3:23—“for we have all sinned and fallen short of God’s glorious standard.”

Thirdly, psychological guilt is the guilt we feel, and it is the guilt that can be most damaging to our emotions. It’s the guilt from which we find the most difficulty healing, and it may or may not be linked to either civil or theological guilt. It may not even be linked to anything real. Psychological guilt is perceived guilt. Some people carry it from childhood, never realizing they carry a burden on their shoulders that doesn’t belong to them. Adults who grew up in broken homes often carry this type of guilt. Victims of spousal abuse carry this guilt. People who have lost loved ones go through this type of guilt. Psychological guilt is so destructive precisely because it is often not attached to anything tangible. That makes it almost impossible to deal with, and often times requires professional therapy.

Finally, there is true guilt. True guilt gave rise to David’s song. True guilt can lead to constructive sorrow. Constructive sorrow is healthy because it prompts us that we’ve done something wrong. It moves us to confession so we can begin to resolve the effects the brokenness causes. True guilt is like warning lights on our car. We had an old Plymouth mini-van when we were in seminary, and the “check engine” light used to come on all the time. The owner’s manual said take it to the nearest dealer and have it checked. It may signal a minor problem, or it may indicate a major breakdown. Either way, the light indicates something is wrong. True guilt acts the same way, and constructive sorrow moves us to repentance and confession, and ultimately to grace. Grace is what we’re all searching for. So you see, confession is the bridge that can carry us from guilt to grace, and it is in God’s grace that we find forgiveness. The Apostle John tells us, “But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins and cleanse us from every wrong” (1 John 1:9). When we experience God’s forgiveness, we find the joy missing in our lives restored. That was David’s plea in this song. Look again at verse 12—“Restore to me again the joy of your salvation, and make me willing to obey you.” That plea was answered when Nathan, upon hearing David’s confession, uttered the words, “Yes, but the Lord has forgiven you.” What awesome words to hear!

My friend, God in Jesus Christ has taken away all our sin. David sang, “Purify me from my sin, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.” That’s exactly what Christ has done through the power of his cross. He’s washed our sins away. We don’t have to be slaves to sin, or to guilt anymore. Go over to that closet, throw open that door and start throwing out those skeletons, and you might discover confession is not such a sad song after all.

Until next time, keep looking up…