Northridge Church is for liars.  Northridge Church is for losers.  Northridge Church is for hypocrites.   Have you seen the billboards?  They are up all over Ann Arbor, Plymouth, Saline, and Brighton.  Northridge Church is for liars.  Northridge Church is for losers.  Northridge Church is for Hypocrites.

 It is part of an aggressive and controversial advertising campaign that is on billboards, buses, mall displays, and on-line through November.  Their pastor, Brad Powell, explains, “We’ve heard from people who’ve said they couldn’t be part of a church that is full of liars and hypocrites….But [the billboards speak] a truth that allows all of us to be part of a church – not because we’re perfect or better-than-thou – but simply because we want to follow Christ.”  Powell admits that some church members are put off by this campaign.  “I’d challenge them to rethink what they’re looking for in a church,” Powell concludes.  “Northridge is for normal, flawed, broken people.  It’s a place, unlike most think of church, where we don’t pretend to be something we’re not, where we don’t judge other people for who they are.”

On their website, there is a short story written by a member of Northridge Church: “NorthRidge Church is for LIARS.  Liars like me. I swore off church years ago. Too many rules. Too many people judging me. Too many people who say one thing and do another. But here I am: a semi-regular at NorthRidge. NorthRidge has shown that all of us are flawed. NorthRidge is different, and they’ve helped me to look at church differently. I realize now that to some extent, we’re all liars, fakes, or hypocrites. But I know that through Christ, we can be more—a lot more. So when I said I’d never go to church again, I lied. I’ll be there this weekend.”

Now, I am not saying anything about the theology of NorthRidge church, which is significantly different from my theology.  But I do believe that NorthRidge has identified a very real, very important need in modern Christianity: the need to confess our sins, the need to admit that we are all liars and hypocrites, the need to be honest and real with one another and with God.  To stand up and confess our sins, to stand up and say, I am a hypocrite.  To even put it on a billboard – there is a certain freedom in that, a freedom of grace, of truly unconditional love, that many of us are far too afraid to accept.

Because in our scripture reading for today, I would contend that many of us are far more like the Pharisee than the tax collector.  Now, I know, we are not self-righteous people who condemn “sinners” from our positions of pious superiority.  But the tricky part of this text is found in the reality that the minute we separate ourselves from the Pharisee, we become the Pharisee.

In today’s story, of a self-righteous Pharisee thanks God for not making him greedy or dishonest, thanks God that he is not like the tax collector, standing nearby.  And the tax collector meanwhile, can not even raise his face in the air, “God, have pity on me, a sinner,” he pleads.  Jesus proclaims that the tax collector is the one who is redeemed, while the Pharisee’s lack of humility deprives him of the opportunity for redemption. 

And so we like to identify with the tax collector – of course, we are sinful, we admit our sins, we aren’t like that Pharisee, that religious leader who condemns other people.  And before too long, we hear ourselves saying almost the exact same words as the Pharisee, “I thank you God, that I am not judgmental, close-minded, or self-righteous.  I thank you that I am not like that Pharisee over there.”  Or perhaps we can substitute, “I think you that I am not like that ignorant, judgmental, homophobic, racist, grammatically flawed, constitutionally challenged so-and-so.”  Or “I thank you that I am not flaky and unreliable, like you-know-who over there.”  And all of a sudden: Bam! We are the Pharisees.

It is easy to identify the tax collector as some poor, ostracized, judged victim.  But the truth of the story is that the tax collector is a functionary of an oppressive regime, who makes himself rich at the expense of poor, exploited, hungry human beings.  The tax collector is not a publican with a heart of gold; he is not even stating that he will discontinue his behavior.  His is simply telling the truth – I am a sinner.  And he is begging for grace, knowing the horrible deeds he has committed, and will continue to do.

Likewise, we often want to demonize the Pharisee.  However, in this text, the Pharisee is actually telling the truth.  According to the laws of Judaism, he is clean, he is righteous, he is living a life that is not greedy or dishonest or adulterous.  The Pharisee is thanking God that he is not a tax collector, not a ritually impure sinner, not an oppressive member of a powerful elite.

So who are we in this story?  We are both – and once we recognize that we are both, we can begin to confess our own hypocrisy, our own deception, our own self-righteous behavior, and we can find true release.  For we can also confess our righteousness, our generosity, our faithfulness; we are both. 

The real sin in this story is drawing a line between the two characters.  The Pharisee could not find redemption because he could not see his connection to the tax collector, he could not see his own sinfulness.  But the tax collector, who stood naked before God, did find redemption because he simply offered his whole self.

The late Trappist monk Thomas Merton identified the secret to humility when he said, "Humility is being precisely the person you actually are in the presence of God.”  This is where we find liberation – in confessing our whole selves to God and to one another.  In telling the truth, in standing naked before the holy, and knowing that we are loved, warts and all.  It may or may not be true that NorthRidge Church is for hypocrites, but it most certainly true that God is for hypocrites.

When I was in confirmation, we did a few sessions on prayers, as do most confirmation classes.  During that class, which I took a good 20 years ago, I learned one thing about prayer that has always stuck with me.  It is the ACTS model of prayer – A –C- T- S.  It stands for Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, and Supplication.  And so, when I would pray, I would always make sure that I included all four of these aspects in my prayer life.  As I grew older, I tended not to structure my prayers so much, and began to just talk to God.  Well, this is all very good, but what happened is the A and the C sort of fell away.  Anne Lamott writes that all prayers say one of two things, either “Thank you, thank you, thank you” or “Please, please, please,” and this became very true in my prayer life.

It has occurred to me lately, however, that I am truly missing the confession part of prayer.  That time where I stand naked before God and speak aloud the sins I have committed.  As I have grown in faith, I grown away from an emphasis on sin; I don’t believe that we are sinners in the hands of an angry God, that we need to confess our sins in order to avoid damnation.  But the problem is, when I do not confess my sins, I get to hold onto them.  And when I do not speak my sins, I begin to believe that they are larger than they are.  And when I resist letting other people know that I am sinful, I do not let others find freedom from the sins that weigh them down.  When we don’t talk about sin, with God and with one another, we just get to keep those sins inside, where they weigh down our hearts and our spirits.  Maybe its time we said, “Edgewood Church is for hypocrites – in fact, it even has a hypocrite as its pastor…”  I’m talking about Karen, of course.

There is a story that the Prussian king Frederick the Great was once touring a Berlin prison. The prisoners fell on their knees before him to proclaim their innocence -- except for one man, who remained silent. Frederick called to him, "Why are you here?" "Armed robbery, Your Majesty," was the reply. "And are you guilty?" "Yes indeed, Your Majesty, I deserve my punishment." Frederick then summoned the jailer and ordered him, "Release this guilty wretch at once. I will not have him kept in this prison where he will corrupt all the fine innocent people who occupy it." 

There is freedom in telling the truth.  There is freedom in confessing our sins.  There is freedom in knowing that our flaws do not need to remain hidden, that our sins do not need to stay secret, that our guilt does not need to be denied.

When we think of confession, often the first thing that comes to mind is the Catholic practice of confession, in which the penitent must confess all mortal sins in order to avoid going to hell.  For many of us, this is problematic, as we don’t believe that God would send us to eternal damnation because we did not confess a sin; in fact, many of us don’t even believe in hell at all.  However, this type of confession is not the only type there is.  Confession is practiced not only in Catholocism, but also in Orthodox Christian traditions, Protestant churches, in Judaism, Islam, and even in Buddhism.  Why is confession found across theological differences and even across religious traditions? Because redemption, absolution, forgiveness is such a vital need for human beings.  And we cannot truly accept forgiveness until we confess to ourselves and to God, those things for which we need to be forgiven.

Now, our text in Jeremiah is a tricky piece of confession, as it involves a little bit of controversy.  The people of Israel have turned their backs on God; they have practiced injustice, idolatry, and violence.  And they now face drought and possibly occupation.  Jeremiah turns to God and offers up prayers of confession, seeking mercy from God and deliverance for Israel.  And yet, God has specifically told Jeremiah not to pray for Israel.  In this very interesting story, Jeremiah deliberately defies God, and prays for Israel, anyway, confessing the sins that have destroyed the people.

This debate goes on for chapters, an argument between God and Jeremiah, about the sins of Israel and their own culpability in their demise.  Jeremiah lifts up their confessions, God rails against their sins, and the two speak back and forth about sin, forgiveness, and redemption.

The beautiful thing about this text is its reflection of confession as an aspect of relationship. We are to confess, not in order to avoid pain, not in order to avoid hell, not in order to avoid judgment, not in order to avoid the human consequences of our own behavior.  We are to confess because we are in a relationship with a God who loves us as we are.  We are to confess because we can stand in front of God, naked, vulnerable, honest, and real – knowing that we are loved, and this very thing is what deepens our love for God.  This is a relationship.

There are a few people who really know me.  They know the petty things that drive me crazy.  They know the things I have done when I have been at my very worst.  They know the things that I just keep on doing and the things that I have left undone.  They know my sins, my selfishness, my self-righteousness, my ignorance, my hypocrisy, my pride.  But they also know my compassion, my joy, my sense of humor and my sense of possibility.  They know the things that make me light up inside, the things that make me dream and hope and believe.  They know me, the real me, because I can confess my sins to them, and know that they love me anyways.

God is like that, only even more so.  God knows the beauty in you, the glow and spark of passion, the yearnings for peace, the purity of your love and the moments of your gentleness, your kindness, your forgiveness, your compassion.  And that is why God can hold you and love you, even when you are a hypocrite, a liar, a loser, a sinner, a failure, a fraud.  Because you are also beautiful.

Yes, I would say that Edgewood Church is for liars.  Edgewood Church is for losers.  Edgewood Church is for hypocrites.  Edgewood church is for you and for me. 

If we start being honest about who we are – with one another, but most importantly, with God, maybe we can find that freedom of forgiving ourselves, because we know that no matter what, no matter who, no matter how, God has already forgiven us.  Hypocrites, liars, Pharisees, and tax collectors.  God loves us all.  Thanks be to God.