Through Stained Glass: Advent Word-a-Day -- Confessing

 Confessing

Can't have a post about repair without water...

The act of confession is confessing, I guess. [There’s that “don’t use a definition within a definition" rule again.] Like we do in worship. I don’t think that’s what today’s word means, but let’s pretend that it is!

 

In a typical worship service in the Presbyterian Church U.S.A., there’s a confessional rite. Well, I’m not sure if it’s right to call it a ‘rite’ or not. But we confess our sins weekly. There’s a communal confession, followed by space for individual confession, or vice versa.

 

I encountered a thought suggesting that “When we confess our sins, we do so not out of despair but with embodied hope in God's mercy.’ Additionally, I read that hope can embody trust itself. When we confess our sins, we trust that even if we feel separated from God, others, or ourselves, God can restore and heal us to wholeness. The author of the Epistle of James states, ‘So confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, and this will cure you” (James 5:16). This clearly implies that accountability among peers and personal responsibility for our mistakes are crucial for healing and restoring genuine human relationships.

 

Did you know that when Advent, the last season added to the liturgical calendar, was created, there was a strong emphasis on penance? I mean, I guess that’s kind of the point of the apocalyptic text we get each first Sunday of Advent – that we confess, repent, and repair, and be ready to be made whole upon the arrival of the Fullness of Time.

Talking about confession, sin, forgiveness, reconciliation, and justice is complex. And then throw in penance? Ooof-duh.

What is penance? I love how Barbara Brown Taylor describes it:

 

Penance is the acceptance of responsibility for repair, and it is one of the most healing things a repentant sinner can do, as well as one of the most painful.… True repentance … promises us reunion with God and one another. It promises us restoration to community, and to all the responsibilities that go along with life in relationship.

 

Confession is vital for forgiveness because it involves acknowledging responsibility both collectively and individually. Reconciliation requires mutual effort to repair harm. These practices aren’t about punishment but about liberation. When we honestly admit our wrongs, we create enriching, sometimes life-changing encounters—no longer about moral purity or regaining God’s love, but about experiencing God’s love directly.

 

Advent is a season of reflecting on the entire human experience — all the parts that make us who we are, including both the illuminated and shadow sides. I appreciate this season because shorter days and snow-covered ground, along with slower paces, encourage me to seek God in places I often overlook — even within myself. Confessing how I isolate myself helps me name my divisions, giving me the chance to begin again on the journey toward my own and our collective becoming.

 

I believe confessing helps us heal—about 400 words to reach that conclusion. Because confessing not only our separations but also our love for each other restores us to our unshakable goodness. Advent is the season when we do both. It’s the time we recognize that we belong to each other—and to the Holy Community we await.

 

I must confess that this is the best news.