A couple of years ago I went to a concert with some friends and made the mistake of following them into the mosh pit. I've since discovered that the word "mosh" means to dance to rock music in a violent manner, jumping up and down and deliberately colliding with other dancers. And that's exactly what it was...
The music was deafening, the stage lights blinding, the smoke choking, the beer splashing sticky. And everywhere people were jostling and shoving and bumping into me, knocking me off balance and disorienting me amidst the chaotic crowd. I couldn't breathe or see or even hear myself think, and my anxiety was skyrocketing by the minute. I had to get out! I told my friends I was leaving, and pushed my way slowly to the edge of the fray.
Once out of the pit I breathed deep the fresh, cool night air. I found a quiet place to sit and be still, and I called my husband. I needed to hear his voice, to calm down and be comforted after such an unpleasant, jarring experience. But I've learned something from that experience. I've realized that unconfessed sin puts me in a place much like that pit. Let me explain.
I've been bumping into my pride a lot this week—looking down on others because I think my way is right; using others' mistakes to prop myself up as "better"; being offended when my hope in myself gets demolished; craving fulfillment and recognition from people when I should be seeking those things in God. And rather than confessing my pride and calling it out for what it was, I chose to ignore it. To self-justify. To compare my imperfections to others' instead of seeing them in the light of Christ's perfection.
You see, my stubborn refusal to admit I was wrong was self-deception (1 Jn. 1:8). It was a blatant rejection of the truth that I am a sinner in desperate need of Jesus' grace! In neglecting to embrace that truth, I wound up in the pit—a dark, chaotic, disorienting place where pride crowded in on me and guilt shoved me around. My unconfessed sin became a noxious fume, a stain splattering and clinging not only to myself, but to those around me. Yet still I made excuses to stay:
But what they did was totally disrespectful, Lord. I'm justified!
But did you hear what she said to me? I have a right to be angry!
But what about him, Jesus? And what about her? I'm just trying to do things the right way.
The truth is we stay in the pit for many reasons. Some stay because their friends are there. Some stay because the prospect of finding their way out seems a daunting, arduous task. Still others stay because what they're hearing sounds good and drowns out everything else. We may even stay because, having been in the pit for so long, we are mistaking the flashy, theatrical lights of the show for the pure, unadulterated light of Christ. But, if we are truly Jesus' followers, we will never be comfortable in the pit. We cannot be "at home" in the midst of unconfessed sin for one sobering reason: Jesus is not there.
Christ took our sins upon Himself on the cross, but that does not mean He joins us in them (2 Cor. 5:21; Heb. 7:26–27). We find ourselves anxious and uneasy in the pit because sin breaks our fellowship with God and with one another (1 Jn. 1:5–7). We must consider that every sin we commit has a measure of wrath attached to it; wrath that was poured out on Jesus on the cross! If we persist in sin, we have added to Christ's agony. Friends, sin cannot be ignored! It cannot be tolerated or coddled. It must be dealt with. And the first step out of the pit is confession—ceasing from our attempts to excuse and self-justify, and calling sin by its name.
Confession cannot be halfhearted: "Well, yeah, I made a mistake. I'm only human." We must make no pretenses before God, but rather completely bare our soul! Confession must be convinced, personal, specific, and honest. But it must also be assured, confident, and expectant: "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 Jn. 1:9). The good news? God's mercy and justification is for sinners!
We do not take that first step out of the pit only to be dragged back in by guilt. The blood of Christ alone removes sin (Heb. 9:13–14)—not spiritual or moral attainments, feelings, emotions or experiences. We are as much sinners in the light as in the darkness. The only difference is, in the light, Jesus' blood continually covers us and cleanses us from every sin (1 Jn. 1:7). Sins against our parents, spouses, and children. Sins against friends. Sins of lying, stealing, drugs, promiscuity—all can be dealt with through the blood of Christ!
The reality is sin is always present in this life. But so is Jesus! He beckons to us from outside the pit, wooing us away from the noise of the crowd that we may hear His voice. He leads us to still, quiet places where we can be with Him freely, unhindered by sin. He refreshes us with His love and comforts us with His grace.
And the more we listen to His truth, the less appealing the lies of the pit will become. The more we gaze into the light of His Word, the dimmer the lights of the world appear. And the more we seek His presence above all things, the less we will be drawn to the pit, for we have something far more precious: the fellowship of the Father and of His Son, Jesus Christ! (1 Jn. 1:3)
Thank You, Lord, for giving me a way out of the pit! Thank You for the unhindered, intimate relationship You've made possible by the blood of Your sacrifice. Holy Spirit, help me turn quickly back to God when I find myself in the pit of unconfessed sin. Guide me into honest confession, restoration, confident assurance and godly comfort. Lord, I praise You for covering me with Your precious blood and purifying me from my sins! In Jesus' name, amen.
Reflection Questions
- Do you have any unconfessed sin in your life? Take it to Jesus in prayer right now.
- How can you recognize more readily when you've stumbled into the pit? Is there anything that happens in your mind or heart that could be an indicator?
- What do you think is the best defense against the loud, flashy, disorienting chaos of the world?