Then, again, there is a style of praying for forgiveness which involves a losing sight of the perfect ground of forgiveness which has been laid in the sacrifice of the cross. If God forgives sins, He must be "faithful and just" in so doing; but it is quite clear that our prayers, be they ever so sincere and earnest, could not form the basis of God's faithfulness and justice in forgiving us our sins. Naught save the work of the cross could do this. There, the faithfulness and justice of God have had their fullest establishment, and that, too, in immediate reference to our actual sins, as well as to the root thereof in our nature. God has already judged our sins in the Person of our Substitute "on the tree;" and, in the act of confession, we judge ourselves. This is essential to divine forgiveness and restoration. The very smallest unconfessed, unjudged sin on the conscience will entirely mar our communion with God. Sin _in_ us need not do this; but if we suffer sin to remain _on_ us, we cannot have fellowship with God. He has put away our sins in such a manner as that He can have us in His presence; and so long as we abide in His presence, sin does not trouble us; but if we get out of His presence, and commit sin, even in thought, our communion must, of necessity, be suspended, until, by confession, we have got rid of the sin. All this, I need hardly add, is founded exclusively upon the perfect sacrifice and righteous advocacy of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Finally, as to the difference between prayer and confession, as respects the condition of the heart before God, and its moral sense of the hatefulness of sin, it cannot possibly be over-estimated. It is a much easier thing to ask, in a general way, for the forgiveness of our sins than to confess those sins. Confession involves _self-judgment_; asking for forgiveness may not, and, in itself, does not. This alone would be sufficient to point out the difference. Self-judgment is one of the most valuable and healthful exercises of the Christian life, and therefore any thing which produces it must be highly esteemed by every earnest Christian.
The difference between asking for pardon and confessing the sin is continually exemplified in dealing with children. If a child has done any thing wrong, he finds much less difficulty in asking his father to forgive him than in openly and unreservedly confessing the wrong. In asking for forgiveness, the child may have in his mind a number of things which tend to lessen the sense of the evil,--he may be secretly thinking that he was not so much to blame after all, though, to be sure, it is only proper to ask his father to forgive him; whereas, in confessing the wrong, there is just the one thing, and that is, self-judgment. Further, in asking for forgiveness, the child may be influenced mainly by a desire to escape the consequences of his wrong; whereas, a judicious parent will seek to produce a just sense of its moral evil, which can only exist in connection with the full confession of the fault--in connection with self-judgment.
Thus it is, in reference to God's dealings with His children when they do wrong. He must have the whole thing brought out and thoroughly judged. He will make us not only dread the consequences of sin (which are unutterable), but hate the thing itself, because of its hatefulness in His sight. Were it possible for us, when we commit sin, to be forgiven merely for the asking, our sense of sin and our shrinking from it would not be nearly so intense, and, as a consequence, our estimate of the fellowship with which we are blessed would not be nearly so high. The moral effect of all this upon the general tone of our spiritual constitution, and also upon our whole character and practical career, must be obvious to every experienced Christian.[9]
[9] The case of Simon Magus, in Acts viii, may present a difficulty to the reader. But of him, it is sufficient to say that one "in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity" could never be set forth as a model for God's dear children. His case in no wise interferes with the doctrine of 1 John i. 9. He was not in the relationship of a child, and, as a consequence, not a subject of the advocacy. I would further add, that the subject of the Lord's prayer is by no means involved in what is stated above. I wish to confine myself to the immediate passage under consideration. We must ever avoid laying down iron rules. A soul may cry to God under any circumstances, and ask for what it needs: He is ever ready to hear and answer.
This entire train of thought is intimately connected with, and fully borne out by, two leading principles laid down in "the law of the peace-offering."