Last Thursday, we spoke of asking God for help, joining others – even unlikely or distant others – in their cries for help, and then daring to pledge ourselves to act, to commit, to search out ways we might be the answer to our own prayers and those of others.

Of course, we falter at this, and at a great many things we attempt for God. Or we get busy with what is out of kilter with the things of God, and even what frustrates and pains God and others. Rabbi Heschel: “Trees stand like guards of the Everlasting; the flowers like signposts of His goodness; only we have failed to be testimonies to His presence, tokens of His trust.”

Hugely important in the 5 elements of prayer, and largely neglected by us modern people, nimble as we are at self-justification and blame, is Confession. To confess our sins (or sin!) isn’t to grovel in humiliation. It’s simple candor, clearing the air, seeking healing and wholeness.

Heschel’s way of phrasing things helps me: “Some people go on a hunger strike in the prison of the mind, starving for God.” “We feel ashamed of our clashes and complaints in the face of God’s glory. It is so embarrassing to live! How embarrassing to be the greatest miracle on earth and not understand it, to live in the shadow of greatness and to ignore it, to be a contemporary of God and not sense it.” “There is hardly a person who does not submit his soul to the beauty parlor, who does not employ the make-up of vanity in order to cover up his embarrassment.” “Prayer is a way to master what is inferior in us, to discern between the vital and the futile. Prayer helps us discover our true aspirations. It is an act of self-purification.”

In confession, I weigh whatever has distanced me from God or hurt others or failed to assist others, my negativity, or my cocky attempts to go it on my own. God, I’ve not just messed up here or there. I am a mess. The world’s a mess. Once you’ve confessed, then welcome the mercy. Believe it is – even in that very moment – healing your heart. You’re forgiven – and if so, how could you possibly not forgive others, or even forgive God or life itself?

We might back up a little and acknowledge our baffling confusion about what’s sin, and what isn’t. Some thoughts, words and deeds grieve God’s heart, but seem innocent or even good to us. And then we harbor guilt over what is just no big deal to God. The whole idea of “sin” gets weaponized too: instead of humbly asking what’s awry in me, I look down my spiritual nose at somebody else and think he’s the sinner.

And there’s the confusion in American life. How hilarious – and scary – is it that what the Church has named (for two millennia!) as the 7 deadly sins (greed, sloth, lust, anger, envy, gluttony, and pride) are glorified now as the good life in our culture! Society’s chipper goals, the rich life as portrayed in the media, is out of sync with God’s desires for us to be humble, holy, generous, and compassionate. Thinking biblically, we understand this.

In our confessing, we might also be cognizant of what Gandhi enumerated as the “7 social sins”: pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, commerce without morality, politics without principle, religion without sacrifice, science without humanity, and wealth without work. There is some element of confessing not merely my personal, private sin, but also the sin of the society in which I am enmeshed.

We pay attention to unintentional sins, or sins of which we are unaware, never ducking into the hideouts from God of “I didn’t mean to” or “I didn’t know.” That’s spiritual growth, and thinking biblically: growing in our self-awareness, our God-awareness, and taking responsibility for whatever is connected to us. If something in my orbit has gone awry, I take it to God in prayer and seek healing, hope and direction.