I Confess

Today’s Readings: AM Psalm 101, 109:1-4(5-19)20-30; PM Psalm 119:121-144; Isa 63:15-64:9; 1 Tim. 3:1-16; Mark 11:27-12:12

This morning’s Gospel presents a difficult message, one that challenges us to confront uncomfortable truths. Jesus shares the parable of the vineyard, where the tenants, entrusted with caring for the land, rebel against the owner. When the owner's son is sent to them, they kill him, believing they can seize the inheritance for themselves. This is more than just a story of greed and violence—it is a prophecy, foreshadowing the rejection and crucifixion of Christ.

The religious leaders who hear this parable do not miss its implications. They realize that Jesus is speaking about them, about their own role in resisting God’s work. But rather than repenting, they grow angrier. The Gospel tells us:

“They wanted to arrest him, but they feared the crowd. So they left him and went away.”

It is a striking moment—one in which the truth is laid bare, yet those confronted by it refuse to change. This parable invites us to examine not only the actions of the religious leaders but also our own tendencies to resist truth, to shift blame, and to avoid responsibility.

We all struggle with our role in the brokenness of the world. This week, I had a long conversation with my son after he tried to blame others for something he had done. We talked about responsibility—how difficult, yet necessary, it is to own up to our actions. It is a lesson that many of us, even as adults, continue to wrestle with.

Since I have previously shared reflections from Howard Thurman’s Meditations of the Heart (1953), I thought I would offer one final passage that speaks to today’s reading and my reflection. This one is titled “I Confess”:

The concern which I lay bare before God today is:
My concern for the life of the world in these troubled times.
I confess my own inner confusion as I look out upon the world.
There is food for all—many are hungry.
There are clothes enough for all—many are in rags.
There is room enough for all—many are crowded.
There are none who want war—preparations for conflict abound.

I confess my own share in the ills of the times.
I have shirked my responsibility as a citizen.
I have not been wise in casting my ballot.
I have left to others a real interest in making a public opinion worthy of democracy.
I have been concerned about my own little job, my own little security, my own shelter, my own bread.
I have not really cared about jobs for others, security for others, shelter for others, bread for others.
I have not worked for peace; I want peace, but I have voted and worked for war.
I have silenced my own voice that it may not be heard on the side of any cause, however right, if it meant running risks or damaging my own little reputation.

Let Thy light burn in me that I may, from this moment on, take effective steps within my own powers to live up to the light and courageously pay for the kind of world I so deeply desire.

It is easy to blame others for the world we have created, but that may not be the most faithful response. May God’s light burn in us so that we may live courageously.

John+

Questions for Self-Reflection: What role does confession play in your faith life? How can confession give you courage in our world today?

John Burruss