Thankful for Wounds

By John Pennylegion, January 14, 2022

“Penny, can we talk?” A young man in my church stood at the door to my office, averting his eyes after he asked the question, and waited cautiously for my reply. I invited him in, told him to take a seat, and I closed the door. This was a man I had spent many hours with. We had meals and coffee together. We discussed God, the Bible, and life. I had officiated his wedding and now as he sat there, I could tell something heavy was on his mind. His body language told me he was nervous. So, I said a quiet prayer asking the Lord to give me wisdom to help him. 

This is a common experience for pastors. Parishioners arrive at our office, set up an appointment, and call on the phone because they need counsel, direction, and help applying God’s word and will to their lives. This is one of the joys of being a pastor. There are few things more honoring than to be invited into a person’s life and through prayer and reliance on the Holy Spirit, give counsel. 

There we sat, me waiting for my friend to share what was burdening him. Perhaps it was sin, a difficult conversation with his wife, a need for vocational clarity, or some other difficulty that had arisen in his life. Patiently I waited. He lifted his head, looked me in the eye, and told me how words I used a day or two before were at best unhelpful and at worst sinful. 

In a quick second I realized he had not come to receive wise words from me, but to call out the unwise words I had spoken to him.

He reminded me of a situation I had recounted to him and how, though factually true, it painted another person in a bad light, and he didn’t need to know that. He hadn’t been there, he didn’t need to know the circumstances, and I had shared my opinion of another in a way that unnecessarily colored my friend’s impression of that person. 

He didn’t get angry or chew me out. With a calm, and sad, voice, he rehearsed what had happened, how it affected him, and why I was wrong. 

It’s hard to have our sin pointed out. We know we sin. I don’t know any Christian who denies that fact. Many churches have a season of confession and assurance of pardon in their services. Thus, every Sunday we confess our sin corporately and silently. We acknowledge our sin, admit we have sinned, and generally confess it. Yet, even with all these ways that we recognize our sin, we still don’t want someone else to point it out. Why?

As I’ve thought about our confessing of sin and asking for grace, the situations I described above – in a church service, a general admittance of falling short, etc. – we are the ones setting the parameters for our confession. We’re saying a general confession aloud with others. We’re naming things specifically, but quietly. We are only revealing the sins we are comfortable with revealing. This is why the words of another, pointing out our sin and how we have fallen short, can sting. 

When he appeared at my door, I didn’t know what was on my friend’s mind. I wasn’t prepared for him to tell me my sin. I wasn’t even aware I had sinned.

When situations like this happen, we’re caught off guard and feel exposed. And when that happens our first response is often to reduce the exposure and regain our balance. We do this by getting defensive or trying to minimize what we have done. “I think you’re making too much out of this; you weren’t there; I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true; etc.; etc.; etc.” We can turn the conversation and start to treat our friend like an enemy, like someone opposed to us. 

Proverbs 27:5-6 tells us, “Better is open rebuke than hidden love. Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy.”

No matter what was running through my mind as that man expressed his concern for what I had said, the truth was, he was my friend. His words stung. My pride was hurt. I felt embarrassed. I was ashamed. And he was faithful. “Faithful are the wounds of a friend.”

His faithfulness was evident by the fact that he told me those things because he cared for me. There are those who take on the position of the morality police investigating others and looking at other’s lives through a magnifying glass. They’re good at pointing out sin and telling others how they’ve fallen short, but they do so because it’s about them. By pointing out another’s failing, they’re exulting themselves. By describing another’s weakness, they’re trying to look strong. When they find some fault in another, they take pleasure in pointing it out because it’s not ultimately about repentance, it’s about them looking the part of the righteous one. That isn’t a friend. That wasn’t my friend. 

His demeanor, his approach, his words – they were for my sake. He didn’t wound me so he could stand over me with self-righteousness. Like a skilled surgeon, he wounded me to help me heal. He didn’t hide away his love, but instead he showed his love by rebuking me. As hard as it was to hear, it was just as hard for him to say it. And why? Because he didn’t want to hurt me. He didn’t want to bring shame upon me. But he loved me enough to show me my sin. And he loved me enough to forgive me when I confessed my sin.

That is friendship. That is what we need.

So, let’s think about how we live this out.

Do we have anyone in our lives like this? If the answer is, “no”, that’s where you need to begin. Invite others into your life who will see your life with enough intimacy that they will know your sin and then who will love you enough to tell you of your sin.  

When we are the friend who brings sin to another’s attention, ask, “Why am I doing this? What is my motivation? Am I seeking their good or mine?” Interrogate your heart. Ask the Lord to give you true compassion for the other and approach them with gentleness. After all, Paul said in Galatians 6:1, “if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness.”

Do we have the proper knowledge of the situation and the proper relationship with the person that I should approach them? This is important because it means assessing whether we have an accurate awareness of what took place and of our standing with the person. I know this introduces all sorts of questions about public sin, public statements, formal relationships vs. informal, etc. Those are appropriate questions and worth taking up. But for our purposes, what I’m trying to stress is the need to establish the right to speak into someone’s life. Do they know us as a friend?

If you’re the one receiving the rebuke, assume the best of your friend. Fight to believe, unless you have reason not to, that they’re not coming to shame you or make you feel guilty, but they want what is truly best for you. Listen, consider, hear, pray, repent, and give thanks. I know that may sound absurd – who says thank you when they’re called out? But when we are led into true repentance, we’re going to be thankful because we are being directed away from our sin and towards Christ.

What if you’ve been rebuked by someone who isn’t a friend? What happens when someone who doesn’t have a relational investment in you brings your sin to your attention? Regardless of whether they approach you gently or harshly, weigh what they’ve said. It may be that they are bringing this to your attention for all the wrong reasons; yet it still may be true that you have sinned. Paul spoke in Philippians 1 of those who proclaimed the gospel for selfish ambition, without sincerity, and thinking to afflict him. Yet, he said, “whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice.” Those who bring your sin to your attention may themselves need to repent of how they’re approaching you, and you may still need to hear what they have to say. In other words, don’t allow the sinful approach of another to hinder you from true repentance.

Finally, pray. Ask the Lord to give you wisdom and courage. It took courage for my friend to sit in my office, to recount how I had sinned, and invite me to repentance. It wasn’t easy for him to say those things; and it wasn’t easy for me to hear them. Though it was a hard conversation, it was what I needed. That moment took place over seven years ago, and I still remember it. I don’t remember every word that was said, but I remember how my friend wounded me so that I would know healing. How my friend loved me. For that, I am thankful.

John Pennylegion is senior pastor of Christ the King Presbyterian Church in Roanoke, Virginia and author of “I Am: The Statements of Jesus,”.