Confession Series: Part 3 of 3
Two More Confessions of Sin and the Stories of the Men Who Made Them
By Dave Redick

A minister once spoke with a man who was about to divorce his wife and run off with his secretary. He pleaded with the man not to do it. He explained what this action would do to his wife. He told him how badly this act would reflect upon the church and upon God’s institution of marriage. "Aren’t you sorry that your actions will have these bad effects?" the minister asked. He said he was. Then he reminded him of what divorce does to innocent, defenseless children. "Don’t you care that the hurt you inflict upon these little ones who are your own flesh and blood will damage them for life? Can’t you see that you are walking out on little children who are totally dependent upon you as their father?" At that point the man began to cry. The minister thought, "Yes. Finally we’re getting somewhere!" But when it was all said, the man walked out of the preacher's office and into the arms of his secretary lover. He divorced his wife. He was remorseful, but not repentant.

There are all kinds of anecdotal stories of inadequate confession of sin.

There is the one about the boy who, when accused of being a thief, said to his father, "Father, I admit it. I have stolen a rope." It would have been a good confession, too, except that he neglected to say that there was a cow attached to the end of the rope.

There is the one about the woman who wanted to write an "honest" autobiography. Not skilled herself in the art of writing, she hired a ghostwriter. When the author discovered that one of her grandfathers was a convicted murderer who had died in the electric chair, she wanted this part written in such a way that it didn’t sound so unflattering. These are the words that appeared in the final draft: "My grandfather occupied the very prominent Chair of Electricity in one of America’s most noted institutions. He was so much attached to his position that he literally died in the harness."

Then there’s the one about the man who anonymously sent money to the IRS with this note attached. "Please find the enclosed $150. For many years my conscience has bothered me because of the time I did not report all my income. If, after sending this, I still cannot sleep at night, I’ll send the rest."

Of course real confession of sin is not a laughing matter. In fact, for the Christian, it is a matter that determines whether we walk in the light of God and are forgiven. It is indeed our lifeline to God. For the past two Sundays we have considered the meaning of confession from 1 John 1:9 where the apostle John wrote to Christians like you and me, "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

What a marvelous passage this is! Written specifically to Christians, it tells us how to keep our lives right with our Maker when we sin. In a sermon two weeks ago we saw the scope of this passage, the sense of it, the significance of it and the system of it, that is, how it is that God forgives us when we confess. In last week's message we looked at three negative examples of confession in the Bible – that is, places where people said the words, "I have sinned," yet did not receive God's pardon. We saw that just saying the words without the right heart attitude can make our confession meaningless and ineffective.

We looked at (1) the forced confession of Pharaoh. We considered (2) the double-minded confession of Balaam. And we went over (3) the insincere confession of King Saul of Israel. In this sermon I want to look at two more Biblical examples of confession. One is negative, the other positive. I'll keep the same numbering system as I used in the last message, making my first point number 4. I've called it:

Perhaps you have never thought of Judas, the disciple who betrayed Jesus, as one who acknowledged his sin. Yet Matthew 26:3-5 contains his confession:

"I have sinned" Judas said. Yet here is another case like the three we’ve already seen where confession did not bring forgiveness and peace with God. Instead, with Judas, it brought despondency, self-condemnation, and ultimately, suicide.

The treachery of Judas is probably the most widely known case of evil in the whole context of Christianity. There are a lot of questions on which we might speculate. Why did Judas do it? How, after spending three years with the Lord, receiving all of the same lessons and examples that the other eleven disciples received, could he betray Jesus? What was he thinking?

It is widely known that the betrayal of Judas was foretold in Biblical prophecy. Peter states in Acts 1:16: "Brethren, the Scripture had to be fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit foretold by the mouth of David concerning Judas, who became a guide to those who arrested Jesus."

Yet though the betrayal was a part of the plan of God, surely Judas had free will throughout the period he spent with Jesus. Though the Lord knew ahead of time that Judas would betray Him, and even announced it in advance to the rest of the disciples in such a way that they would fully realize it afterward, the Jesus treated Judas with kindness and respect in all His association with him. Even at the last, on the very night of betrayal, when the Lord knew the time was near, it seems that He reached out to Judas. He washed his dirty feet, just as He did the other disciples. He let him into the final Passover supper. Jesus even let Judas know that He was already aware of his plans, yet he did not call him down for it in front of the rest of the disciples.(1)

In my opinion, a study of the things revealed in Scripture about Judas is a study in the development of greed and perhaps lust for power. I haven’t time to develop that subject here. The Apostle John, who had a first-hand view of Judas throughout the betrayer’s association with Jesus, gives us his observation of Judas’ motives in John 12:4-6. In it he describes Jesus’ anointing by Mary with costly perfume. Here is what John says:

Can you sense John’s disgust about Judas? The apostle is writing after-the-fact. There are many things he had to exclude from his gospel due to space. But something needed to be said about this one who had been with them in the closest of fellowship day after day, yet ultimately turned out to be a traitor.

Among other things perhaps, Judas was a thief. Thieves are selfishly obsessed with the money and goods of others. John’s statement that he was more concerned with the money that this perfume cost than the poor he claimed to advocate is a clear statement to me that Judas was not in harmony with the noble teachings of the Lord, but rather, was obsessed with more selfish things.

Following this track, perhaps Judas saw Jesus as an up and coming star - one who, when he was finally revealed to the world, could provide him with a meal ticket to financial security. That, if it is true, would explain why Judas might betray Jesus with the intent of forcing what he may have perceived as Jesus’ reluctance to assume his rightful position as king of the Jews. It would also explain why Judas would betray Jesus for such a paltry sum of money, and then feel remorse when he "saw that He [Jesus] had been condemned."(2)

To note especially in our text in Matthew 27, which contains Judas’ confession, is the word Matthew used for "felt remorse."

The KJV translates this, "repented himself." But in the original language, the word Matthew used is not the common New Testament Greek word for repentance. The common verb translated "repent" in the New Testament is metanoeo which is generally a strong word that refers to a change of mind that leads to a change of the will and the actions. Matthew used a weaker word, metamellomai, which seems to have more to do with a change of emotion or sentiment. While scholars are not fully agreed on the exact differences between these two words, it is clear that metanoeo, the word Matthew didn’t use, is always the word used when referring to repentance leading to salvation.(3) Metamellomai, the word used to describe Judas’ remorse, is never used in the New Testament in the context of salvation. Judas was sorry that things worked out the way they did. Perhaps he was even sorry that Jesus was arrested, was being abused, and was about to be crucified. Maybe he had fully expected God’s angels to deliver the Lord from harm when he was arrested in Gethsemane. He was sorry for the way things worked out but he wasn’t sorry enough to now go and plead for Jesus’ life. He wasn’t sorry enough to defend the Lord. And he wasn’t sorry enough, even still, to acknowledge that the Lord’s way that he had heard now for three years was far better than his greedy, manipulative way. Yes, he felt guilty for the betrayal. He tried to salve his conscience by returning the 30 pieces of silver. "I have sinned by betraying innocent blood," he said. He was sorry for the way things worked out. He wanted the pain of his guilt removed. But he had no interest in finally taking to heart the teaching that Jesus had so patiently given him over the last three years.

Is it too much to expect that Judas' confession would show that he had changed his mind and was willing now to turn to Jesus in full repentance and serve Him with his whole heart? Before you say "yes," remember Peter. He denied Jesus three times when it mattered most, and when it hit him he went out and wept bitterly with guilt. Then after his sin he turned to Jesus to serve Him for the rest of his life. Or remember Paul, who persecuted and even killed Christ’s followers and taught that Jesus was an impostor. When he realized he was wrong, he turned to Jesus and became His tireless advocate.

What did Judas do when he discovered that his way was not the right way? Did he turn to Jesus’ way? No. He felt remorse and hanged himself – the ultimate statement of self-centeredness.

Judas’ remorseful confession is typical of those today that are sorry that their wrong actions have hurt or will hurt other people. They wish it could be different. Hurting others was not their main intention. But if they had it to do all over again, they’d do it the same way, with themselves still at the center.

A minister once spoke with a man who was about to divorce his wife and run off with his secretary. He pleaded with the man not to do it. He explained what this action would do to his wife. He told him how badly this act would reflect upon the church and upon God’s institution of marriage. "Aren’t you sorry that your actions will have these bad effects?" the minister asked. He said he was. Then he reminded him of what divorce does to innocent, defenseless children. "Don’t you care that the hurt you inflict upon these little ones who are your own flesh and blood will damage them for life? Can’t you see that you are walking out on little children who are totally dependent upon you as their father?" At that point the man began to cry. The minister thought, "Yes. Finally we’re getting somewhere!" But when it was all said, the man walked out of the preacher's office and into the arms of his secretary lover. He divorced his wife. He was remorseful, but not repentant. His desire to do it his way was greater than his desire to do it God’s way. Others paid a painful price for his lack of faithfulness. Ultimately, of course, if he cannot repent, he will pay the ultimate price.

"If he cannot repent?" you say. "What do you mean, ‘if’? Surely if the man repents before he dies, God will forgive him, won’t he?"

Perhaps He will. But there is a very sobering statement in Hebrews 6:4-8 that any such person as I have described should know about before he goes ahead to do that which he knows is wrong:

Persons who can understand the full significance of doing wrong (and Judas would certainly know that after three years with Jesus) and in the face of warnings again and again can go ahead and do it anyway put themselves into a very dangerous condition before God – a condition where it may be "impossible to renew them again to repentance…." I take that to mean that such a one has lost the ability to be convicted of sin. God would forgive them but their heart is too hardened to repent.

We’re talking about confession of sin. We’ve seen that when it comes to obtaining God’s mercy for ourselves as Christians, just saying the words won’t do. A forced confession like Pharaoh’s won’t do. A double-minded confession like Balaam’s won’t do. An insincere confession like King Saul’s won’t do. And we’ve just added that even a remorseful confession won’t do if it does not have within it the intent of turning back to God.

Let’s go now to the positive side of this issue. There are several confessions of sin in the Bible that brought pardon from God. The two that came first to my mind were those of King David after his sin with Bathsheba, and the Prodigal Son who blew all his inheritance on loose living, then returned to his father. I only have time for one of them here, and though a consideration of both would be beneficial, the one I have chosen as our model is:

The Prodigal’s confession is in Luke 15:17-21:

The story of the Prodigal Son is well known. In its larger purpose, it is a parable told by Jesus in the presence of the Scribes and Pharisees after they grumbled about His interest in helping sinners. The father in the story represents God. The younger son represents the Gentiles, the older son symbolizes the Jews. The Gentiles were soon to accept God's offer of salvation from Jesus while the Jews were going to be jealous of God’s grace because they felt that since they had served God longer, they should receive special treatment.

For our purpose today we will step beyond this overall application of the parable and look only at the confession of the younger boy in Jesus' story. The younger son came to his father one day and asked him to bequeath him his portion of the inheritance. Though this request seems a bit premature (his father was still alive) nevertheless, his father divided up the wealth. Not many days later the boy left home. It wasn’t a well thought out decision. In the foolishness of a young rebel convinced that he had the world by the tail, the boy squandered the money his father had so long worked for on loose living. Then, as many suddenly rich people find out soon enough, the money was gone. He had blown it all. In desperation, he started looking for a job to support himself. The only thing he could find was work feeding pigs, which would be disgusting from the standpoint of a Jew. The wages were so low that he couldn’t even buy enough to feed himself. He found himself longing for even the food that he was feeding to the pigs. No one cared anything about this boy now, since he had no money and nothing they could use. He was completely out of options. Life and truth had slammed him down, hard. As he worked there in the pigpen he began to think of home. Perhaps he wondered what might be going on in his father’s house even as he filled the swine troughs. Was it lunch time back home? What was his brother doing at this hour? What was his father doing? What were the servants doing? They were probably sitting down at the table right now enjoying some of the bounty his father so generously gave them.

And then it hit him: "How many of my father's hired men have more than enough bread, but I am dying here with hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and will say to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in your sight; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me as one of your hired men.’" Notice in these words that this boy had finally learned how important it was to be in his father’s family and in his father’s house. Even if he could somehow be just a servant it would be far better than living without his father and his family anymore. So he "got up and came to his father." I think what we see here is a leaving of the sinful life he had only so recently found exciting and a full return to his father. He didn’t say, "Let’s see, I could return home and work a few months to save up some money and then get back to my loose living." No. He’d had enough of that life. He’d learned his lesson. He was finished living apart from the blessings of his father. He got up and went home. He didn’t send a message back asking his father to wire him some money, thus avoiding having to face his dad and admit his wrong. He returned to face his father and all the others who might despise his confession, as indeed did his older brother.

For us our confession of sin needs to be accompanied by a break with the sin that brought the need for the confession and a full return to our Heavenly Father. There should be no remaining liaison with the sinful life. We’re finished with it. We’ve learned our lesson. Though we still understand the temptation to return to it, we don’t want that kind of life anymore – ever.

It was a broken young man who lay in the pig pen that day longing for the home and family he grew up with. So the boy "got up and came to his father." But before he had even reached home his father saw him in the distance and came running to receive Him. Why this sense of joy in his father? Because he loved the boy, of course. Any parent of a child who has departed from God and the rest of the family knows no greater joy than to see his son or daughter return, broken and in full realization of the importance of the family of God.

King David, in Psalm 51:17, where he elaborated on his own confession to God after the sin with Bathsheba, wrote:

It is this realization of the wrong of what one has done that is so important – this broken heartedness over the offense and the trouble it has caused that is at the heart of true confession. It is confession without qualifiers, without excuses, and without any special expectations or sense of deservedness. Verse 18 of Luke 15:

The beauty of true confession of sin, the kind that brings the Father running out to meet the son is the broken and contrite heart. Such a one is grief-stricken because of his sin.

It was this element that was missing from all of the confessions we have noted to this point. It certainly wasn’t there with Pharaoh, was it? He was not brokenhearted, grief-stricken, or contrite. Nor was it there in the double-minded Balaam, who really couldn’t decide which approach was better for him so he tried them both and ended up dead. It wasn’t there with King Saul who, like the boy who admitted to stealing a rope but omitted the fact that there was a cow on the end of it, only said what needed to be said in order to maintain his position. And this contrite heart was not there with Judas, either. He was sorry. He even felt guilty. But it was not enough so to turn back to Jesus with his whole heart.

I told you that I left out a consideration of King David’s confession after the sin with Bathsheba because of time, but let me close by reading the Psalm of confession he wrote in the wake of that notorious sin. It could be a full study in itself. This is Psalm 51:

Ps 51:1-17

14 Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, the God of my salvation; Then my tongue will joyfully sing of Your righteousness. 15 O Lord, open my lips, That my mouth may declare Your praise. 16 For You do not delight in sacrifice, otherwise I would give it; You are not pleased with burnt offering. 17 The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; A broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise. NASU

Footnotes: Please use your back button to return to your place.

1. John 13:12-19
2. Matthew 27:3
3. For further discussion of these two words, see Synonyms of the New Testament, by Richard C. Trench.

Dave Redick is Minister of the Hwy 20 Church of Christ in Sweet Home, Oregon and Editor of The Preacher's Study. He may be reached at pstudysupport@comcast.net.

Copyright © 1996-2008 by The Preacher's Study. Permission is granted to subscribers to use this document in total or in sermon preparation in the context of the local congregation only. Publishing it in a book, on the Internet, or anyplace beyond the local congregation is prohibited.

All Scripture quotations and references are from the New American Standard Version unless otherwise stated.

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