Psalm 51:1-12 “Are We Moderns Too Sophisticated for Sin and Guilt?”

Psalm 51 is one of the seven penitential psalms of the Hebrew Scriptures and is among the profoundest of prayers in the history of religion. It is also historically one of the most important passages of Scripture during the Lenten season. But there is something about this psalm which jars and disturbs modern ears. We are uncomfortable with its words and sentiments. To be frank, it rubs us the wrong way. Why? Let me suggest three problems we have with this psalm  problems which perhaps reveal a lot more about us than about any deficiency in this prayer. 

The God of Jesus Christ demands accountability.

A) Recent surveys of lay people in mainline Protestant denominations indicate that the most important skill church members want their clergy to possess is the ability to comfort people. On the whole many lay people want warm, fuzzy ministers as representatives of a warm, fuzzy God. Furthermore, the pride of individualism along with the accompanying attitude that “anything goes” does not know what to do with a God who demands accountability. For the most part we have been freed from the angry, vengeance seeking images of God. And good riddance to such images because they have nothing in common with the God of Jesus Christ. But the alternative of a God who demands nothing, expects nothing, and loves so superficially that there is no place for truth and justice is also a far cry from the One revealed by Jesus of Nazareth. The sense of entitlement so many people have today can be a very good thing, especially for those persons and those groups who have been disenfranchised and denied their full status as human beings created in God’s image. But when that sense of entitlement loses the perspective that we exist in a web of relationships and that we are responsible for what we do within those relationships, for good or ill, then we have confused legitimate freedom with childish license. The God of Jesus Christ demands accountability. We moderns may not like the idea of being accountable before God, but the potential for hurting or helping others in the web of relationships in which we live is too great for it to be otherwise (provided we actually believe that God cares about this creation). 

B) A second problem we have with this psalm is the verse, “I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me.” If we follow certain interpretations of this verse, we should be bothered. Augustine and some other church fathers took this verse to mean that the inclination to sin was passed through the generations by means of the sperm of the man. Augustine thought the sin in the Garden of Eden was the sex act, and so he thought every child born was a candidate for hell because that child was conceived in sin. (That, by the way, is part of the reason the church has had so many problems with sex over the centuries. And if you know anything about Augustine’s life before his conversion, you would realize that his interpretation says a lot more about his own hang-ups than it does any legitimate interpretation of Scripture.) All such interpretations should be rejected by the church. If we come out of the womb sinners–if it is built into our genes, so to speak–then we are not responsible and cannot be guilty. To use computer lingo, we have been programmed to sin and cannot help ourselves. 

But what if there is another way of looking at these words that does make sense to the modern mind? What if the psalmist is saying that we are born into a world which is already tainted with sin? That, in a sense, we come into the world with the deck already stacked against us? I am an example of being both victim and perpetrator of such sin. I grew up in the racist South. I was not born a racist, but I fell under the evil influence of racism in my family, church, and the wider culture. Once I consented to this sin and joined those about me in perpetuating racism, I became guilty. I became a sinner. The world was thus, and I became thus.  

We are indeed born into a climate of sin and that such sin has more of a grip on us than we are willing to admit or even comprehend. 

The great Christian ethicist Reinhold Niebuhr once said that the only tenet of the Christian faith which could be proven beyond any doubt whatsoever is the prevalence and seriousness of sin. It can be proven by the perusal of⋅the front page of any newspaper in the country. As we face the problems and crises of systemic racism, ubiquitous greed, world hunger, ecological abuse, and institutional corruption on every front, it does not take much insight to realize that the psalmist is correct. We are indeed born into a climate of sin and that such sin has more of a grip on us than we are willing to admit or even comprehend. 

C) The third problem we moderns have with this psalm is the words, “Against you, you alone, have I sinned.” How can the psalmist say that? In Jewish tradition this psalm was associated with King David after he was confronted by the prophet Nathan for his adultery with Bathsheba and his murder of Bathsheba’s husband Uriah. We could say that David sinned against God by breaking the commandments regarding adultery and murder. But did he not also sin against Bathsheba and Uriah? And do not we also sin against others? How then can the psalmist say, “Against you, you alone, have I sinned”? 

Years ago, I read about a driver who killed a teenager while driving under the influence of alcohol. In killing that young man, he ended the life of a mother and father’s son, a sister’s brother, and the grandson of four grandparents. His sin caused unfathomable grief in that family. The man went through years of guilt and self-condemnation. He could not forgive himself even though eventually the family of the teenager he killed was willing to forgive him so their lives could begin again. When he reached bottom in his despair and self-hatred, he was led by a friend to an AA meeting. Slowly and through many trials and struggles, he was able to experience forgiveness from God in the midst of others who helped him find the only path possible toward his healing. In time, he was able to begin life again and was transformed by a God whose amazing grace could free him from his guilt and give him hope. 

Perhaps the psalmist, like this man, directs his confession to God because God is the only One who can ultimately redeem his sin and allow him to begin life afresh. Only God can create a new heart and give us a new spirit. Only the Creator can allow for a new creation. And so. the psalmist takes his sin to God so that transformation and healing can take place. 

Let me compare this confession to a childhood experience I once had. While playing basketball, I fell on the outside asphalt court of the nearby school. I knew my injury was serious, but I dreaded telling my mother because I was afraid of the treatment I would receive when she took me to the family doctor. The wound had to be cleansed, and I would have to endure a tetanus shot (and I had an irrational fear of needles!) I waited four days before telling my mother about my knee injury. By then, I could barely walk and the pain was excruciating. But deep down, I knew there was no other solution to my pain and infection. So, we went to the doctor for the painful treatment which was necessary for my healing.

The psalmist takes his sin to God because he knows that while God takes his sin seriously, God does not take sin ultimately. God’s judgment is never the last word; it is a prelude to forgiveness–a prelude to the restoration of a trusting and loving relationship which is the goal of God’s dealing with humanity—and a prelude to the transformation of the human heart into something beautiful, noble, and worthy of God’s love. 

We think we must repent/change in order to be forgiven. But the good news is that we are forgiven by God, and that forgiveness empowers us to repent and to change.

You see, in so much Christianity, we have the cart before the horse. We think we must repent/change in order to be forgiven. But the good news is that we are forgiven by God, and that forgiveness empowers us to repent and to change. Repentance is not the way to earn forgiveness. Repentance is what happens after we are forgiven when we realize that God, while taking our sin seriously, does not take it ultimately and is willing to provide a future for us even when we cannot see any way out of our guilt and the hurt we may have caused others.

‘The great preacher Ernest Campbell once told of a man whose mother’s funeral Campbell had preached. The man came to Campbell and poured out his sorrow over not being the kind of son he should have been and over neglecting his mother. The man was eaten up with guilt. Campbell led the man into the presence of God where the man confessed his sin, experienced, like our psalmist, the cleansing of forgiveness, and saw how his life could begin again. Campbell told the man that he did not have to earn this forgiveness. Such grace was God’s gift to him. But then Campbell went on to say that having been released from the burden of guilt, there was something the man could do–not to earn forgiveness but as a grateful acknowledgment that he had been forgiven. Campbell said, “I know of an older woman who has no children. I wonder how she is going to negotiate the last parts of her life. Would you be willing to do for her now what you wish to God you could do for your own mother? Would you try to build up at the very place where once you tore down?” Happily, the man seized the opportunity–again, not to earn forgiveness but to live a new life out of gratitude for forgiveness already experienced. 

Ultimately, we sin against God and God alone because God is the only One who can do anything with our sin–the only One who can allow life to begin again. The good news of this psalm is that while God takes our sin seriously, God does not take our sin ultimately. God takes us and our well being ultimately and is ever eager to allow life to begin again. The Christian life is not an attempt to earn God’s forgiveness and to escape God’s judgement. The Christian life is a grateful response to the grace which is greater than our sin. And that is good news indeed.

From that chief sin of pride which embraces all sin, we do ask your forgiveness, O God. From that perspective by which we see ourselves as better, as deserving more, as even more precious in your sight than those we label as insignificant, wicked, or as no account, deliver us. Hear us as we confess our sin of pride. 

From a greed which flows from the pride of believing we deserve more and which grows like a cancer from a lack of trust in you and your Kingdom–  from a greed which multiplies injustice, which takes the food from the mouths of children, which distorts our values and cripples our consciences, we do ask your forgiveness. Hear us as we confess our sin of greed. 

From the perverse delight we take in the failures, mistakes, and difficulties of others–from confusing humor, at the expense of others’ feelings and reputations, with a joy which celebrates wholeness, healing, and truth spoken in love, we do ask your forgiveness. Hear us as we confess our sin of pettiness and insensitivity. 

From the abandonment of joy–from the neglect of the peace and happiness which flows from communion with you–from the lost opportunities of touching and being touched by others–from daily choosing mere existence over abundant life–from turning our backs on the miraculous potential of a committed and joyful pilgrimage with you, we ask your forgiveness. Hear us as we confess our sin of resignation and defeat. 

Free us, O God, from the sin of pride by the deep assurance that we are each loved unconditionally and eternally by you and by the frank realization that no one of us is loved one iota more than any other human being. Free us, O God, from the sin of greed by teaching us the discipline and the liberation of knowing what is enough. Free us, O God, from the sin of pettiness and insensitivity by infusing us with a holy love which hopes for, prays for, and expects the best for those about us–a love which is quick to give the benefit of the doubt and to practice compassionate understanding.  Free us, O God, from the sin of resignation and defeat by energizing us with a vision of your glorious victory in Christ–a victory which grants forgiveness, inspires joy, and has all of time and eternity to fulfill its mission. Forgive us, free us, and move us on for Christ’s sake. Amen.

L’Arche movement consists of Christian communities designed to live according to the spirit of the Sermon on the Mount and dedicated to the care and inclusion of severely mentally and physically challenged persons. On one occasion, L’Arche communities in the north of France were enjoying a weekend retreat. The group was talking about the passage in Revelation where Jesus knocks on the door and offers to dine with whoever opens the door. One of the participants in the discussion, a very simple man, said, “I know what I’ll eat when Jesus comes to dine with me. We’ll have pancakes. We’ll have muffins. We’ll have cider.” And then he said, “And Jesus will say something. He’ll take me in his arms, and he’ll say, ‘You are my beloved child.'” At communion, Jesus knocks and if we let him penetrate the hard shells fear and pride have taught us to build around ourselves–if we let him in, he will take each of us in his arms and will say, “You are my beloved child.” 

The desire of God is to take every human being in divine arms and to announce, “You are my beloved child.” We live in a world of people who desperately need to know that such is⋅their real and ultimate identity. Through our actions, words, and attitudes, may we be bearers of that good news as we touch the lives of others in the name of Jesus. 

God sends you forth from this gathered community to be the Body of Christ. 

God looks for anyone who will lift instead of pull down, who will help instead of hinder. 

So, go and claim a corner of the world for God, and may the Spirit go with you and abide with you now and forever more. Amen.