Forgiving Sins?

A friend and I were talking the other day and they asked about the order for confession and forgiveness at the beginning of our worship services.  We went over several interesting things but the main question revolved around the forgiveness.  When I pronounce forgiveness of sins, are people's sins really forgiven?

Folks have a hard time wrestling with this concept.  "How can you, Pastor Dave, forgive people's sins?  You're just a person, right?"

That's exactly right.

The key point here is that Dave isn't standing up there pronouncing these powerful words and making them come true by his strength, power, and grace.  My strength wouldn't suffice.  But Pastor Dave stands as a representative of God in that time and place.  The words I speak are not my own.  I'm simply declaring what God is saying to us all when confronted with our sins.

This explanation doesn't assuage people's worry when they define "Pastor" as a title of authority for its own sake.  "So you're a pastor!  What right does that give you to say those things?"  Again this is correct.  Too often "pastor" is just a badge, a self-contained, self-referential position much like a Facebook status.  "Pastor" becomes the center of the proceedings.  The congregation exists to acknowledge/respect/attend him.  That's when we start talking about "rights".

Pastor is supposed to be a position of service.  I don't stand up there as the center of worship for my own sake.  Rather I stand in service to God and to the people around me.  Instead of all the honor and work flowing from the congregation towards me, God's service and gracious gifts flow outward to the congregation.  Forgiving sins is not a matter of my personal authority.  ("I have the power!")  It's a recognition of the need for service. ("We need to hear that our sins are forgiven today so they won't hold sway over us or our worship and so we can stand before God with clean hearts.") Authority is necessary so that you'll understand that God's forgiveness isn't a matter of random chance or personal choice, that he really means it and he intentionally sent someone to tell you about it.  But the authority only exists to enable that service.

In other words, the power to say, "Your sins are forgiven" is not about me, it's about the gracious relationship God has with each of us.  I stand in awe of, in need of, and under the power of those words every time I speak them just as everybody else does.

Astute observers may notice that I usually change the words of the absolution from what's written in our hymnal.  The official text reads:

As a called and ordained minister of the church of Christ and by his authority I therefore declare to you [the forgiveness of your sins...]

Notice how they rested on the authority part.  There's nothing inherently incorrect about that.  Likely they were thinking, "We really, really, really want people to understand that this is real so we're going to emphasize the authority and power behind this!"  Perhaps they were considering folks in the pews who might be wavering about whether their own sins were really forgiven and wanted to leave no doubt.

In my experience, though, leaning that hard on the authority side of the equation brings up the response my friend had--"Who are you to say this?"--more than it assures people who might be wavering.  It causes raises doubt than it relieves.  That's why I alter the words to:

In true and faithful witness to the Gospel of Christ and by his authority I therefore declare to you...

Notice the authority is still there.  These words are both true and faithful...as solid as anything you'll find.  Both truth and faith are assumed to be higher than any one of us, though.  It's not my authority or even the church's.  This comes from something bigger than us all:  Jesus Christ dying on the cross for us that our sins might be forgiven.  Few of us would think to say to Christ, "Who are you to say this?"  If we did, he'd just quietly point to the cross and back to himself, then raise an eyebrow at us.

In any case, describing the process of forgiveness--Christ's grace flowing through the witness in that moment--seems more accurate and faithful than describing an unchanging, non-transferable authority vested in the pastor.

This language change also reminds us that forgiving others isn't just about us, our own feelings, or our rights to hold an offense against another.  If the pastor does something solely because of his authority as a pastor then by definition nobody else can do it.  But if the pastor does something because he's leading the way in following Christ then by definition everybody else has a responsibility to do it.  Our forgiveness begins each week in that central moment with the pronouncement by the pastor but it doesn't end there.

You, too, witness God to the world as you forgive people.  You also have to overcome your personal misgivings and imperfections in order to do so.  You become the pastor in the world when you engage in this process.

We like to think of forgiveness as a mushy, interpersonal process to which we commit all our feelings and which leaves us feeling completely better when we're done with it.  Anyone who's actually had to forgive someone knows that this isn't true.

It's easiest to see this with siblings, I think.  Siblings are often close but also tend to wound each other, particularly as they grow older.  We usually feel bad when we don't forgive our parents but we're OK resenting brothers and sisters.  But eventually the Thanksgiving rolls around when we decide to bury the hatchet.  Do we feel warm and fuzzy about doing it?  Not usually.  Is everything magically better afterwards as we're reunited in a glorious hug-fest followed by a perfect life?  No.  We forgive them because they're family, because we love them, and because it's the right thing to do.  We have to serve something beyond just our feelings in order to make this happen and we do, just like the pastor does on a Sunday morning.

This is also true of forgiving spouses.  It's often true when we forgive our children too.  When your 3-year-old just spilled permanent ink on your best dress you don't feel like forgiving him...ever.  And you're not, really...at least not when judging by your personal feelings.  You're going to say, "It's OK" at some point but you're going to be mad at him for a long, long time.  You don't forgive because you're you.  You forgive because you're mom.  That's what moms do.  That's where your mom authority comes from...not inside or from your feelings and desires but from following something greater than yourself into a forgiveness you know is necessary for the sake of you and your child both.  Again, this echoes the pastor on Sunday morning exactly.  Your mom mantle is your version of the pastor's robe.  "It's OK" is your version of "In true and faithful witness to the gospel of Christ I therefore declare to you the entire forgiveness of all your sins".

If somebody didn't do this for us boldly and publicly in worship we wouldn't have the pattern, nor feel the authority and ability, to get beyond our own selves and forgive others as God forgives us.  This is why the process of forgiveness and the authority behind it are important, not only to our worship lives but to our life period.

--Pastor Dave (pastordave@geneseelutheranparish.org)