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Confession and Forgiveness
After Christopher ended our first engagement, we didn’t speak to each other for two years. Well, that’s not totally true. He reluctantly agreed to come to one counseling session with me but was so angry and defensive that dialogue was impossible. He stormed out before the hour ended without even offering to split the fee. During the relational hiatus that followed, we each spent many hours processing what had gone wrong. Prayer helped. Our counselors helped. But we still felt stuck—unable to let go and move on.
One day while I was ostensibly praying but in actuality complaining about this, I sensed God offering me another option. “Fast and pray. For a week.” I’m well aware that some people get excited about fasting. I am not one of them. Fasts of any length almost always culminate in headaches, insomnia, and the conviction that I’m wretchedly undisciplined. Nevertheless, my desire to get unstuck trumped all my petty excuses.
About three days into the water fast, I discerned what seemed to be a clear directive from the Holy Spirit: “Confess your bitterness and completely forgive him.” There was no promise that obedience would lead to a restored relationship. My response was something along the lines of Wait. You want me to confess and forgive? What about him? Can we talk about how he broke up with me, for instance? As if God had forgotten what happened that May morning when the two of us walked along the Charles River. Christopher, creating a clear physical boundary by stuffing his hands in his pockets, communicating in a clinical manner that he needed to break off the engagement and sever all ties with me. Me, in shock and disbelief, begging for an explanation, offering him more time, desperately trying to talk him out of it. Why do I have to do the work? I petulantly demanded. The Holy Spirit responded, Because I’m asking you to. I started confessing and forgiving that day.
When we incorporate confession and forgiveness into our marriage, we declare our allegiance to the kingdom of God over our allegiance to the kingdom of self. As we admit our sins, we dismantle pride and self-centeredness, two of the most troublesome barriers to transformation. When we choose to forgive, the energy previously allocated for blaming or nurturing anger gets freed up, allowing us to love more wholeheartedly. Obeying God’s directive not only purged my bitterness and resentment but also prepared me to reconnect with Christopher and established a precedent that continues to this day. What was true for me is true for all of us: if we want transformed lives and transformed marriages, we need to regularly confess our sins and forgive each other.
Confession: A Primer
Despite the fact that we live in an epoch that tends toward oversharing, biblical confession remains countercultural. Some years ago, Christopher and I kicked off a retreat with a teaching on this topic. Following the talk, we joined a prayer team around the perimeter of the room and invited folks to confess their sins. One woman made a beeline for me. I assumed that she must have a doozy of a sin to unload. Instead, she somewhat self-consciously admitted that she didn’t have anything to confess. I looked at her quizzically and considered asking, “How about denial?” Wisdom prevailed and I prayed a simple blessing over her. Unlike this woman, if I have been awake for more than thirty minutes, I can find something to confess, especially if I’ve scrolled through my Facebook feed.
Confession is not indiscriminately divulging random thoughts, feelings, and inconsequential mistakes. It’s an honest, humble admission of the ways we have fallen short of God’s directives and hurt someone—including ourselves—in the process. “Confession acknowledges the need for God and opens the door for God’s intervention.” 1
Like the retreat participant, most of us would rather keep the door closed and deny our fallibility. Scripture confronts this tendency. According to the apostle John, whose words are every bit as apropos now as they were two thousand years ago, “If we claim we have no sin, we are only fooling ourselves and not living in the truth” (1 John 1:8). Because the Lord is omniscient, by confessing our sins, we acknowledge what He already knows to be true.
Most of us avoid the jail-worthy sins, such as tax fraud and drug peddling, but silently struggle with the stealthy sins of the heart. We silence those who disagree with us rather than draw them out. We confuse privilege with blessing and blame the have-nots for not having. We gorge when life calls for moderation. No one is going to call 911 on us for such sins, but they are not without cost and should not be omitted from our confessions.
Why Confess?
Why would any of us willingly admit our sins, especially the ones we can hide? We confess because denial thwarts transformation. If we value the appearance of health and wholeness over the real deal, image becomes everything. But if we’re serious about wanting to have a dynamic marriage, we have to move through that resistance and become transparent truth tellers.
The Old and New Testaments communicate that God hates lying (Exod. 20:16; Prov. 11:1; Eph. 4:25; Col. 3:9). I wasn’t taught this value when I was growing up. Instead, adults routinely demonstrated that lying was acceptable in certain situations. Lies were spoken as a means of protecting my father as he battled his addiction or as a way to avoid conflict. This is why early on in our marriage, I felt no conflict by denying that I was angry when Christopher asked. Regardless of why we choose to dodge the truth, lies are lies. They deaden our consciences, prevent our spouses from knowing us, and provide no impetus to stop sinning.
Confession takes truth telling up a notch. Rather than waiting for our spouses to ask if we finished the bottle of wine, spent several hundred dollars on new clothes, or flirted online, we forthrightly admit it—humbly and nondefensively. It’s really quite simple. As James advises, “Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed” (5:16).
By design, confession mortifies us. We hate having others see our less-than-perfect selves. When we willingly confess our broken thoughts and actions, we allow God to create a crack in the false images that we’ve worked so hard to perfect. This crack ruins the veneer but also allows forgiveness and grace to seep in.
Years ago while attending a conference out of state, I found myself paying far too much attention to one of the male leaders. Because I felt so embarrassed, I convinced myself that I could manage the crush by myself. Yet after several days of trying to extinguish the feelings, my struggle continued. (I should have simply called Christopher and confessed. I did communicate everything upon my return home.) When it became clear that my efforts were utterly ineffective, I decided to disclose to my small group. Rather than gasp in disbelief and dismiss me as a fraud, they extended forgiveness and prayed for me. Within a few hours, the temptation lifted. Telling the truth did what nothing else could.
Despite that reality, confession continues to be taboo. Until fairly recently, when you stepped into the concourse at Las Vegas Airport, you were greeted with huge banners that read, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” Many well-meaning counselors and talk-show hosts seem to agree with that mind-set. I have a tip for you: don’t believe it. Deceit leads to death. Telling the truth leads to healing and life. According to Christopher, men who battle sexually related sins often face internal and external barriers to disclosing their struggles:
We Christian men often get counsel that says your wife doesn’t need to know about your sexual failures because it will only hurt her. Lying is made out to be magnanimity and thoughtfulness. This is self-deceit: a corrupt fellowship in which men wink-wink at the failures of other men rather than holding each other accountable to a godly standard. We need to be unflinching in our definition of sin as well as uncompromising in our application of mercy to those who don’t deserve it.
Even if you have a backlog of unconfessed sin, as Steven did, it’s never too late. Assuming that your spouse is mature and healthy (meaning that they will not shame or abuse you for telling the truth), ask if your spouse would be willing to hear your confession. When you confess, be specific but spare the gory details. For example, rather than “I spent time on the Internet looking at things that were unhelpful,” try “I looked at still images of pornography for three hours this weekend.” Specificity helps prevent future sin. We need to own our choices and resist blaming others. Ownership includes apologizing for the ways that our actions or words have affected our spouses.
Christopher and I make a habit to regularly confess the sins and temptations that beg to stay hidden, such as envy, overeating, and cynicism. Unless one of us is planning a surprise party, anything that we’re tempted to hide becomes a priority to talk about. If the idea of confession terrifies you, acknowledge that to your spouse and then schedule a time to confess to keep you accountable.
In our marriage, confessions and apologies often happen in that vulnerable space after we’ve turned off the lights and before we fall asleep. Most nights, I ask the Lord, How did I do today? Are there any thoughts or actions that I need to confess? Regardless of how seemingly insignificant they might be, I admit them to Christopher. When I started this practice, I occasionally resisted the Holy Spirit’s prompting. It’s always easier to rationalize my behavior than humbly and nondefensively say, “I was rude to you at dinner. I’m sorry.” This practice keeps my heart soft and serves as an impediment to committing the same sin.
The two of us have been practicing this discipline for the whole of our marriage. If that’s not been true for you, please be aware that you might experience turbulence after takeoff. Some confessions will trigger anxiety or anger in your spouse, particularly if the sins you confess directly affect him or her. If you are the only one routinely confessing, you might sometimes wonder if it’s worth the humiliation. It is. God will honor your commitment to the truth and bless your faithfulness. The one exception I would make is if your spouse uses your confessions to demean or shame you. In that case, I encourage you to confess to a priest, pastor, or trusted same-gendered friend.
Though confession is not a panacea for all that ails a marriage, I agree with what author Paul David Tripp boldly writes in What Did You Expect?: “No change takes place in a marriage that does not begin with confession.” 2 When we’re truly loved by someone who sees our imperfections and chooses to stand with and love us anyway, it breaks our shame and gives us a taste of God’s infinite and redemptive love. This is powerful stuff.
Forgiveness
To follow Christ is to forgive. Once we receive forgiveness vertically from the Lord, we are to give it away horizontally, to our spouses and others. In order to do this well, we need to fully understand what forgiveness is. Sometimes actual events are the best teachers.
In the fall of 2015, a young white man walked into a historic South Carolina church during their midweek Bible study and killed nine African Americans. The family members of the victims publicly expressed their grief but also spoke forgiveness to the murderer. This confounded the secular media, leading some news outlets to view the families’ radical choice as denial or insanity.
Forgiveness might seem foolish, but it’s certainly not denial. When we drop the charges against those who have sinned against us, we are not excusing their actions, minimizing the damages, or opening ourselves up to further mistreatment. We are simply agreeing that Jesus’s redemptive work on the cross is sufficient.
His willingness to die for sins that He did not commit fulfills the ancient laws that preceded His incarnation. When God set the universe in motion, He established physical laws (such as gravity) and spiritual laws (such as the shedding of blood to atone for sin). Prior to Jesus’s death on the cross, Hebrew priests heard the confessions of their people and subsequently sacrificed animals so that individuals or tribes could be forgiven. God, who seems slightly detail oriented, specified exactly how these rituals should take place (Lev. 4). For sensitive animal lovers like me, the system seems like a gruesome non sequitur. Yet God deemed that “without the shedding of blood, there is no forgiveness” (Heb. 9:22). The elaborate rituals appeased God but had to be constantly repeated. Jesus’s death satisfied the need for sacrifice once and for all. He became our high priest as well as the sacrificial lamb, freeing us from the need to continually shed innocent blood.
This changes everything. Because of Jesus’s holy life and sacrificial death, we can “go right into the presence of God”—the Holy of Holies, once reserved for only the high priests—“with sincere hearts fully trusting him. For our guilty consciences have been sprinkled with Christ’s blood to make us clean, and our bodies have been washed with pure water” (Heb. 10:22). Today, as we confess our sins to each other and extend forgiveness, we become “a royal priesthood” (1 Peter 2:9 NIV) helping each other inch toward holiness. According to Drs. Paul and Virginia Friesen, “As image bearers of Christ, we are never more Christ-like than when we forgive.” 3
The direct causal relationship between confession and forgiveness became apparent to Christopher and me when we reconnected. After that moment when Christopher wondered if he had made a mistake by ending our engagement, he initiated a conversation with me. I was equal parts eager and terrified. When we finally sat down together, it was immediately apparent that we had both changed. In Christopher’s words:
I brought no specific expectation to our meeting except that it would be helpful for me to hear what Dorothy’s experience had been. Surprisingly, the first thing she said was, “You were right to break up with me,” and then confessed her failures. Her ability to completely own her mistakes and forgive me, even though I had not apologized, created a lot of space for me to explore my mistakes without needing to defend myself. This marked an uncharted dynamic in our relationship, and I knew something had changed not only in me but also in her.
As we talked, there was an understandable sadness about how we had hurt each other, but God’s presence filled the room. Considering what had transpired between us, it was miraculous that no trace of bitterness existed.
Forgiveness Is a Command, a Choice, and a Process
Our experience during that two-year separation illustrates what we now understand about forgiveness: it’s simultaneously a command, choice, and process.
Jesus taught His disciples about the command component on multiple occasions. As recorded by Luke, Jesus said, “If another believer sins, rebuke that person; then if there is repentance, forgive. Even if that person wrongs you seven times a day and each time turns again and asks forgiveness, you must forgive” (Luke 17:3–4). Also quoting Jesus, the apostle Mark writes, “When you are praying, first forgive anyone you are holding a grudge against, so that your Father in heaven will forgive your sins, too” (Mark 11:25).
In certain situations, such as infidelity or habitual deceit, we might be tempted to assume that the command to forgive doesn’t apply. Scripture does not validate such spin. When it comes to forgiveness, there are no extenuating circumstances that let us off the hook. (In the case of an abusive spouse, we can forgive while still making choices to protect ourselves and our children. Though we always need to forgive, at times we need to reset boundaries to keep ourselves safe.) 4 If you think your spouse doesn’t deserve to be forgiven, you’re probably correct. However, those who crucified Jesus didn’t deserve to be forgiven either. He forgave them anyway (Luke 23:34).
Like all commands, forgiveness is a choice. God does not coerce or manipulate us; He gives us the terrible freedom to obey—or not. When we obey, God’s power gets released into our marriages. And isn’t this what we want?
Finally, forgiveness is sometimes a process. As much as we’d like our hurt, bitterness, and anger to completely disappear when we forgive the first time, it’s seldom that straightforward. When Peter asked Jesus how many times he was to forgive someone who sinned against him, I can imagine Peter having a little swagger as he suggested seven times. But Jesus countered with “No, not seven times … but seventy times seven!” (Matt. 18:22). That could mean forgiving the same person for the same offense 490 times or that a particular person (who perhaps shares your last name and zip code) sins against you so many times that you have to continually forgive him or her. I am quite confident that in the course of our twenty-five years together, Christopher has needed to forgive me in excess of a thousand times.
Barriers to Forgiveness
We encounter internal and external barriers to forgiving. Consider this example of the latter. You wait thirty, forty, perhaps sixty minutes for a health-care professional. (They have demanding jobs. I’m not intending to be critical.) The person finally walks into the freezing exam room and says, “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” How are you likely to respond? I can almost guarantee that you won’t say, “I forgive you.” Why? Because social etiquette trains us to play nice and not make others feel guilty, even if that means lying. By verbalizing “I forgive you,” we effectively communicate, Indeed, what you just did cost me something. It’s much easier to dismiss someone’s error with a cheery “No problem,” even if we’re silently fuming. Of course we should be gracious and overlook mistakes, but we should also be aware of the cost of choosing cultural norms over God’s ways. Particularly in our marriages, dismissing offenses as no big deal doesn’t work long term because no-big-deals tend to morph into very-big-deals.
In order to forgive well and thoroughly, we also have to press through internal barriers. The process of forgiving involves much more than mouthing those three words. Our spouses’ sin may arouse a cornucopia of emotions, including anger, pain, betrayal, confusion, and resentment. Although we need to acknowledge rather than deny our feelings, we can’t be ruled by them. Christopher and I seldom feel like forgiving each other, and if you watched us after we’ve had a fight, you might double over in laughter.
Though we’ve improved over the years, there are still moments when we sit in icy silence immobilized by anger or the desire to be right. Eventually, one of us will grunt something that vaguely resembles an apology. More silence. And then the other will mumble a positively toddler-esque “I forgive you.” But—and this is key—once we initiate the process, our hearts always follow. By forgiving, we thwart the Enemy’s scheme to divide us.
Apart from our stubborn, willful hearts, perhaps the most significant barrier to forgiving well is our failure to understand the depth of forgiveness that has been extended to us. Author and priest Henri Nouwen explains in The Road to Daybreak:
It is hard for me to forgive someone who has really offended me, especially when it happens more than once.…
Maybe the reason it seems hard for me to forgive others is that I do not fully believe that I am a forgiven person. If I could fully accept the truth that I am forgiven and do not have to live in guilt or shame, I would really be free.… A forgiven person forgives. 5
The more deeply we receive the Lord’s forgiveness, the more readily we will be able to extend that same forgiveness to our beloved.
The Consequences of Unforgiveness
Choosing not to forgive has many consequences: first and foremost, we will not be forgiven for our sin. After Jesus responded to Peter’s question about how many times he should forgive, Jesus launched into one of the most chilling stories in the New Testament. After a king had generously forgiven a sizable debt from one of his servants, that same servant refused to extend forgiveness to someone who owed him a smaller sum. When the king learned of this, he called in his servant and offered this blistering rebuke:
“You evil servant! I forgave you that tremendous debt because you pleaded with me. Shouldn’t you have mercy on your fellow servant, just as I had mercy on you?” Then the angry king sent the man to prison to be tortured until he had paid his entire debt.
That’s what my heavenly Father will do to you if you refuse to forgive your brothers and sisters from your heart. (Matt. 18:32–35)
Is this not one of the most sobering passages in the Bible?
When we withhold forgiveness, it affects us just as significantly as it affects our spouses. We grow bitter and resentful. We tend to magnify their sin, which distorts our perception of who they really are. Finally, studies done by the Mayo Clinic and others have demonstrated that a failure to forgive can result in a host of health problems, such as hypertension, heart issues, depression, anxiety, and a weakened immune system. 6 Though it might feel as though choosing to forgive our spouses costs too much, it’s choosing not to forgive that bankrupts us.
Cassandra’s Story
A few days after interviewing Steven, I talked with his wife, Cassandra, about her process of forgiving him.
Cassandra: I was not a woman who forgives easily. I was a grudge holder. I guess I was like my own father in this regard. After Steven confessed to me, I was not exactly sure that I wanted to forgive him or even stay married to him. I remember a time when I was lying facedown on the carpet and told God, “I don’t really want to be married anymore. I do not feel love for him. If You want me to stay in this marriage, You are going to have to do a miracle, because I’m done.”
The miracle was not that I got up from the carpet and had all this love in me. One of the things that shifted was that I began to be on Steven’s side. I felt as if I could war against the addiction rather than against him. Gradually, God put in me a love that was beyond me, beyond what I could muster up. He also put a warrior spirit in me that helped me fight for Steven.
I asked Cassandra how much of that was her effort and how much seemed to be the Holy Spirit’s intervention.
Cassandra: There were times when I was simply responding in obedience. It’s work to drop the sword. It’s work when you feel overwhelmed and feel anger washing over you like a huge wave. I remember when I first found out about his addictions, I thought if I could turn my face to the Light, I could make it through. It was the same thing with letting go of the anger and choosing to forgive: just turn my face.
Visually, it was like a flower, making that slightest turn toward the sun. Maybe heliotropism explains the concept: turning to the Light, who is already there. And in addition, there was photosynthesis. You can’t make this happen on your own. All you can do is turn, and God does the rest.
This process of forgiving Steven has totally changed me. I see myself as leather that has been transformed. When you first buy that leather coat, it is stiff and scratchy. This whole process has softened me. As a result, Steven and I enjoy a much deeper intimacy on all levels now. I’m on his side, fighting for him even though I know he’s still vulnerable.
From what I know of Cassandra, she is soft and beautiful but simultaneously a warrior for the kingdom. This powerful combination has not only preserved their marriage but also helped countless other men and women who are going through similar battles.
I’ve often wondered what my life would look like today if I had declined God’s invitation to forgive Christopher. I’m not a sentimental person, but this thought causes tears to well up. Without forgiveness, our marriage would not have happened. Our three sons would not exist. We would not have enjoyed twenty-five years of friendship and ministry. In Forgiving Our Mothers and Fathers, Leslie Leyland Fields beautifully describes the blessing of forgiveness: “When God freed us from our debts against him, He freed us not to live however we choose, not to pursue our own whims and fancies—but to love more fully.” 7 I will never completely understand this mystery, but I know that it’s true; forgiveness “leads us to love.” 8
Going Deeper
1. How regularly do you confess sin to your spouse? How long do you tend to wait between the sin and the confession? If you resist confessing, do you know why?
2. How do you respond when your spouse hurts you or sins against you? Where did you learn to respond this way? How effective is your behavior in helping you move toward forgiveness?
3. As you become aware of your broken relational patterns, how would you like to see them change? What kind of support do you need in order for this to happen?
4. After confessing, does your spouse tend to experience lingering guilt or shame? If so, how could you help him or her find more freedom?
5. Do you harbor any unforgiveness toward your spouse? (Unforgiveness sometimes manifests as bitterness, resentment, or disinterest in being intimate. Pay attention to your inner monologue.) Assuming that your marriage is not abusive and your spouse is not currently acting out, if you have resistance to being emotionally or physically intimate, it might be related. What would it take for you to thoroughly forgive him or her?