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The Prayer of
David
Psalm 32 & 51
If we were to
take a one question survey that asked only one question; "What's the
hardest thing you've ever had to do as a Christian?" I'll bet I can
guess what the number one answer would be.
Near the top would be, confront a brother or sister about some sin.
That's always tough. I've done it and it's never easy under any
circumstances.
Another possible number one answer might be just the opposite: being
confronted. I've experienced that, too, and neither is it easy.
But in my experience, harder than confronting, even harder than being
confronted, is the voluntary confession of personal sin. So many things
make voluntary confession difficult to do.
First, if it's voluntary, then it's something you don't really have to
do. No one's caught you with your proverbial hand in the proverbial
cookie jar. No one is making you do it. You take the initiative because
you recognize that something is wrong in your relationship with God or
with others and you want it to change. And no change, even good change,
is easy.
Second, it runs counter to our natural tendencies. We naturally see
ourselves in a somewhat better light than reality. My sins are not quite
as bad as yours. My mistakes aren't nearly as devastating as the one's
you make. I'm a better driver than the idiot who cut me off. It's okay
if I don't always respond to my spouse in the right tone of voice, but
boy she better be careful when she opens her mouth to speak to me. We
tend to frame ourselves in the best possible light and let the shadows
fall on everyone else.
So confession runs counter to everything we are. Yet as hard as it is,
it is the sanest, healthiest thing we could ever do. Let's close out our
series on heroic prayer, then, by looking at what it means to pray a
prayer of confession. I want to look at two passages with you. Psalm 32
and Psalm 51.
First, Psalm 32. We'll read the first five verses. (Read text).
"I acknowledged my sin and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, 'I will
confess my transgression to the Lord,' and you forgave the guilt of my
sin."
There's the good news. A child of God stained by the fact and act and
guilt of sin confesses to God and God forgives. The psalmist tells us
what happens when we confess. But he doesn't tell us how to do it. Which
is a little like having a breakdown on the side of the road, calling a
mechanic to describe the problem then listening to him tell us that all
we have to do to get our engine running again is to replace the
carburetor. So how do you do that? How do you confess?
We think we know. You just come forward at the invitation song and
everything will be okay. I've scoured my Bible front to back and haven't
found anything about an invitation song. Or making acknowledgements, as
we used to say. Or the alter call as the Baptists term it. I even
checked for "walking the big aisle" in the new modem translations and
didn't find anything. The truth is, confession is one of those things we
think we know how to do until we try it. Then we discover it isn't so
easy.
So we need to look at another prayer. All Psalm 32 tells us is that when
we do it, God forgives. Psalm 51 tells us how it's done. Let's look
there. It's long, but we're going to read all 19 verses. (Read text).
True confession does four things:
1. Recognizes a problem only God can fix.
Notice how the prayer begins. In vs. 1 David describes what he needs;
mercy, unfailing love, and compassion; things only God can give. In the
first two verses David tells God what he needs for God to do; blot out,
wash away, and cleanse; things only God can do. In fact, he returns to
that need for cleansing in vs. 7, "Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be
clean," and in vs. 10, "Create in me a pure heart, O God."
The kind of cleansing David needs can only be done by God. He certainly
can't do it himself. Confession is the prayer of the empty handed. We
sometimes sing Rock of Ages. One line says, "Nothing in my hand I
bring." That's what David is saying. God, this is a problem only you can
fix.
We will never truly confess until we understand that our sin has
completely ruined our relationship with God and that only his mercy,
compassion and love can restore it.
If the counselor can fix it, it isn't sin. It's dysfunction.
If the preacher can fix it, it isn't sin. It's an unanswered question or
an unclear direction.
If the doctor can fix it, it isn't sin; it's an ailment.
But if it is sin, then only God can fix it. And true confession has to
first acknowledge that.
2. True confession admits that the problem is my fault and mine alone.
In vs. 3 David says, "I know my transgressions, and my sin is always
before me." The phrase, "I know," is the same one used in Psalm 32:5
where David said, "I acknowledged my sin to you." It means "I admit."
I'm guilty. Me and me alone. I'm the one who did it. Which is a very
hard thing for us to admit.
We live in a culture of blame-shifters. Nothing is ever anyone's fault
any more. We've perfected Adam's excuse; "That woman you gave me made me
do it." Or the devil made me do it. Or God made me this way. Or my
parents were mean to me. You name it, we can blame it. Unless of course
the object of blame is our own bad behavior and selfish choices.
The subtitle of this Psalm says that it was the prayer David prayed when
the prophet Nathan confronted him about his sin with Bathsheba. There is
no evidence that this prayer was prayed on that occasion, although it
certainly seems to fit. And there's no reason not to believe otherwise.
So it's legitimate to think about that event as the occasion for this
prayer.
David could have rationalized a lot of different excuses for his
behavior.
Uriah was an inattentive husband. Bathsheba shouldn't have been taking a
bath on the patio in broad daylight. He was upset about having to stay
home and take care of government business when he should have been off
with the army expanding and defending the borders of the kingdom. He had
a traumatic childhood what with lions and bears and giants and all.
But David didn't make any of those rationalizations. He said, "I did it.
Period."
V s. 4 intensifies his personal ownership of the guilt. "Against you,
and you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight." This
isn't a confession to Uriah or Bathsheba or Nathan. This David's
confession to God. We sometimes forget, I think, that sin is first and
foremost an affront to God. We are more taken with the immediate effects
of sin on our human relationships. David shows us that sin breaks God
heart first.
v s. 5 takes responsibility for this sin to a higher level. "Surely I
was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me." No,
David is not blaming his mother. And no, it isn't teaching inherited
sin. The Psalms are poetry. David is using hyperbole, intentional
exaggeration, as a way of saying, "God, if you are looking for the
definition of sin, look no further. I'm it. I am sin personified. Sin
incarnate. I'm as bad as bad gets." Confession doesn't play any
blame-shifting games. It takes full ownership of the sin committed and
admits it.
3. True confession requests a new beginning.
That begins in vs. 7, "Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean," and
continues through vs. 17. Often in confession, we get all hung up on the
second step -- embracing the guilt. In a sick sort of way, it feels good
to wallow in the guilt. It almost becomes a way of trying to help God
fix the problem.
"Here, God, let me feel bad for awhile. Let me just roll around in the
mess I've made so that everyone will know how bad I feel and how sorry I
am."
Confession doesn't stay in step 2. It moves on. I started to soften this
part, but decided to just let text speak for itself. David doesn't
actually request for God to do anything. He demands. No kidding. The guy
who has sinned in a really big way demands that God grant him a new
beginning.
The verbs in vv. 7 - 17 are almost all in the imperative mood.
vs. 7 - Cleanse and wash,
vs. 9, hide, blot
vs. 10, create, renew
vs. 12, restore, grant
vs. 14, save,
vs. 15, open.
Now that may be a little more gutsy than you feel when you are in the
middle of a weeping confession about your sin. But it should illustrate
how ready confession is to move on from embracing the guilt to
experiencing a new beginning. David really believes that this is a
problem he caused and that only God can fix.
So it makes perfect sense for him to say, "Okay, God, I need for you to
take this to the next step. I need a new beginning. Cleanse me, wash me,
hide your face from my sin, blot out my transgression, create a new pure
heart within me, renew a steadfast spirit, restore to me the joy of your
salvation, grant me a willing spirit so this won't happen again, save
me, open my mouth so I can sing
your praise."
If your confession doesn't include a request for a new beginning then it
isn't true. It's stuck.
4. Finally, not only does David's confession include a request for a new
beginning, it anticipates one.
Vs. 7, "I will be whiter than snow, I will be clean."
V s. 13, "Then I will teach sinners,"
V s. 14, "My tongue will sing,"
Vs. 15, "My mouth will declare your praise,"
Confession isn't just about the reality of sin and our honesty about our
complicity. It's also about God's power to forgive and restore.
Confession is a bold and daring act of faith. It is a proclamation to
God that while you failed to fully believe and obey his law, you now
fully believe and claim his promise. And that's a promise we simply
cannot live without.
James A Garfield was an amazing man. It is said he was ambidextrous and
could write Greek with one hand while writing Latin with the other. He
was elected to the presidency of the United States in 1880. Six months
later, he was shot in the back. At the hospital, a doctor probed the
wound with his little finger searching for the bullet. When he couldn't
find it with his finger, he used a silver tipped instrument. Still, the
bullet eluded detection.
Garfield was moved back to Washington where aides tried to make him as
comfortable as possible. Through the summer, teams of doctors continued
to probe for the bullet. At one point, they even called in Alexander
Graham Bell, who also tried to find the metal lodged in Garfield's body.
The president hung on through July and August, but finally died in
September that year. But he didn't die of a bullet wound. He died of
infection.
Sometimes, probing a wound only makes it worse. It's that way with sin
and forgiveness. Once we've admitted that this is a problem that only
God can fix, that it's our fault and no one else’s; once we've requested
a new beginning, it's time to let God do his healing, forgiving work and
grant it.
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