Little white lies

This is All Saints Cathedral in Nairobi, where the GAFCON meeting is being hosted and therefore where we hang out from 8 until 8 daily.  

Last night we heard about the East African Revival, a movement which began in the 1930s and has continued to shape the Church and the broader societies since.  One great example which was given to the whole conference was the story told by Bishop Samson Mwaluda with whom we worked just last week on our mission.  The family in which he grew up was transformed by his father's conversion to faith in Jesus thorough the revival.  It was a good story and great to see a familiar face speaking to the whole conference.

The theme which speaker after speaker repeated last night was the need for repentance in our lives for revival to come.  One thing that struck me was a short sentence, "There is no sin too small to confess".  I often think that repentance is hard with the "big" ones, but easier with the small ones.  That is not the case, and I had an experience of it this week while on mission.

You see, one night at the table I told a little white lie.  It was a small fabrication that was unnecessary but made me feel included in the conversation.  I was saying my prayers before bed when the memory of that small fib came back to me.  At the table of gracious hosts, in the company of my friends and brothers and sisters in the faith, I cheapened the truth and sincerity of that table just to feel more included in a conversation.  A little white lie, but I saw suddenly what I had done for what it was, a violence to that fellowship.  But why not just forget it?  It's really not that big a deal.

I slept poorly and was quiet at breakfast.  We went off to our last day of the mission and I remained uncomfortable.  Part way through the teaching on the work of the Holy Spirit it became clear to me that He, the same Holy Spirit, was impressing on me the need to confess and repent.  But it was not enough to confess and repent in my heart.  I needed to confess to another whom I had sinned against. I was humiliated.  For to confess this to another was to show him or her my weakness and insecurity.  What would be thought of me?

By this time it was simply a matter of obedience to the Holy Spirit.  I could not continue the work without coming clean.  It was incredibly difficult and hard on my pride, but I sought out one of my colleagues and told the truth.  I was graciously received, and, I am happy to say, not just excused with a "don't worry about it" but was forgiven.

There is no sin too small to confess and the little ones are frankly easy to gloss over.  Had I not said something, no one would ever have known, and I would have preserved my pride and the esteem of my friend.  As it turns out, I only had to sacrifice the former, not the latter.

Walking with God means walking in real integrity, even in the smallest things.  This was one of the marks of the East African Revival, and it has begun to make a mark on me.