Protestant Priest

I had met her when she was a college student. We had kept in touch sporadically. I knew she had gotten married. I knew she had a successful professional career. I knew she had two children. I knew that she was faithful in following Christ and was raising her children to know Christ as well. I hadn’t seen her for 15 years when she called out of the blue and said she wanted to come and see me.

It wasn’t convenient. It was a significant distance from her home, but she made the trip. When she showed up we spent some time catching one another up on our lives. That lasted for 10 or 15 minutes before I asked, “So, what’s up?”

She didn’t respond right away. She was searching for the right words. She was trying to figure out how to begin. She fidgeted a little. Then she began to tell me about the nature of her work, about the travel requirements, and how one night, and only one night, she had met someone and had a one night stand. Tears flowed down her cheeks, she began to weep uncontrollably. She spoke of her embarrassment, her guilt, her shame and how she had failed her husband, her children, and her Lord. She went on to talk about what a horrible person she was and she didn’t know what to do. But what she really wanted to know from me was God’s perspective.

The interesting and curious part of this conversation was that she had come to me. She had her own pastor. Why had she come to me? Part of it was our history. But part of it was that I was safe. I wasn’t her pastor; she wouldn’t have to look at me every week. I was at a safe distance geographically. She didn’t want ongoing counseling. She just wanted to a place to share her secret and get God’s perspective.

I spoke to her about God’s mercy, grace and forgiveness. She knew all of those things conceptually. She had experienced them at a surface level, but this was huge. Do grace, mercy and forgiveness apply here? Would God forgive her for what she had done?

She wanted to hear me articulate the words, “God forgives you.”

I spoke the words.

She wept again. You could see the heavy burden she was carrying move from her shoulders. She was physically different.

We prayed. We hugged. She left.

I hadn’t said anything she didn’t know. I hadn’t revealed any deep spiritual insight. I acted as a priest; someone to whom she could confess and who, as a representative of God, could bless her with God’s forgiveness.

When this kind of thing happens, I am humbled and moved. It is an awesome and unbelievable thing to bring God’s grace to someone in such a powerful way.

As Protestants, it is not a part of our heritage to have a human mediator for the transaction of guilt, confession and forgiveness. We go straight to the source: God. However, sometimes, as in this case, we need someone who we see as an authority; someone who represents God for us; someone who we see as speaking on God’s behalf, confirm what we know to be true but it just can’t penetrate our heart.

I don’t know a person who doesn’t carry around some kind of guilt of shame.

Hearing the words, “God forgives you”, can change our lives.