I want to begin with a situation that might happen to a young person. I hope that those of us who are older will think back to our youth and put ourselves into the same story.

Let’s say you’re still living at home and going to school. On a Saturday night you take the family car. Let’s admit you’re an excellent driver and that you have the right to think of yourself as careful and prudent at the wheel. This is the image your parents have of you and you’re pleased with that. Good for you. You are with the gang at your favorite gathering place and you are taking some of them home. Everyone is laughing and you are backing up - and all of a sudden, crunch. Never happened to you before. Quite a blow, to the rear fender and to your self-image. When dad sees the dent in the morning ... If you’re like many of us, driven by the need to be right, you’ll be tossing in bed all night, testing out one alibi after another.

Here’s a husband fighting with his wife. It’s plain he’s in the wrong, and he may even realize that. But he’s the macho type and John Wayne would never surrender, would he? So he just hollers louder.

Here’s a set of parents concerned about keeping their children’s respect. They may believe they should never admit a mistake.

When I was in the seminary, we had a form of this problem in our preaching classes. After the student had delivered his sermon, the professor would go round the room asking us one by one if we had any criticisms. We were so afraid of saying something wrong, most of us kept quiet. A few did speak up but, when it came their turn to preach, did we ever attack them. Hung up on the need to be right.

How much this cripples us we can observe in a scene Jesus once drew, about a man who prayed:

God, I thank thee that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector.

(Luke 18:11)

This was a Pharisee, Jesus said. We may snicker at his boasting and we may dismiss him as a hypocrite but when we check his record, we find that if he were like other Pharisees, he was really trying. For example, he mentions adulterers. The Pharisees seemed to know that the essence of adultery is lust. That’s why some of them - when they went around in public - always kept their eyes closed (so they wouldn’t see any women). The folks called them "Bleeding Pharisees," because they kept bumping into trees. Hung up on the need to be right.

Paul had been a Pharisee. He used some crude language to describe how useless his former way of life had been - when he’d tried so hard to be blameless. One place he tells about this is in 1 Corinthians 15. Our versions show how he makes the translators blush. When he said he’d also seen the risen Christ, the translators have him say:

Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me.

(1 Corinthians 15:8)

Since he wrote this to be read in a public assembly for worship, I assume he had no qualms about having his real language heard by church people. So I feel I have the right to tell you what he actually wrote:

Last of all, as to a dead fetus, he appeared also to me.

That’s how sad it is, to be under the compulsion of justifying yourself. That’s something of the difficulties of living with the need to be right.

Now I’d like to tell you of the advantages of living forgiven.

Suppose somebody attacks you or me: "Sir," or "Madam," "what you just did was silly." Now if we’re trying to make it as an abortion, then we’d answer, "Is that so? Well, I’ve seen you do a lot worse." You know where that would lead. But when we live forgiven, we rather respond, "Is that so? Tell me more." If it develops that what we’d done was foolish - then since we know that Christ has already atoned for that mistake, we make no alibis. We just admit it, apologize for it, and try to do better. What’s so hard about that? But when we need to be right, it’s impossible.

When parents live forgiven, they’re free to be wrong. Since Christ died for their sins, they may say to their offspring, "We’re sorry; we made a mistake." Does that diminish respect?

There are some tortuous problems that parents and young people may need to work out. They have their own points of view. The parents who live forgiven are free to say, "We don’t have all the answers. We’re not even sure we’re right. But because we love you and because of what we do know and because of what we’re afraid may happen, here’s what we wish you’d do." Does this destroy authority?

As for that dent in the rear fender, there are so many situations like that in my past and I handled them badly. But Christ’s atonement covers those mistakes too, and so I’m learning not to dwell on them. The Gospel is continually giving me a fresh start. Now that I’m a bit more aware of what it means to live completely forgiven for Christ’s sake, if I could live those situations again, I’d do them something like this:

Dad, I guess I’m not as careful as I thought I was. Last night I was taking some of the gang home and we were laughing and I wasn't paying attention and as I was backing up in the parking lot, I went too far and I ran into a telephone pole and I’m sorry ...

How would my Dad have reacted? Frankly, I think he’d have been confused. I’ve noticed that’s what happens to others. They expect you to make alibis. That they can handle. Then they can fight back, and if they have the need to be right, the argument will have given them a chance to strut their stuff. But when you admit you’re wrong, you knock out all their wind, simply because the Gospel has given you the freedom to be wrong and the freedom to admit it.

When we humble ourselves like the tax collector, when we refuse to try to justify ourselves by making alibis, that is, by trying to prove we were right, then Jesus says we’re exalted. I suppose that can mean several things, but for me the best thing I’ve discovered so far is this relief I get when I don’t have to be right.

How refreshing it would be if this Gospel could be let loose in the world, so that we and all our neighbors could live forgiven! What a revolution for the good if peoples and parties and nations could just admit, "We goofed. Please forgive us. We’ll try to do better."

How pathetic when anyone has to croak, "Nobody’s going to shove me around." It’s tragic when people get hung up on the need to be right.

But it’s the doorway to paradise when we begin to live as though the Gospel is true, when we start to experience the blessings that come from this freedom to be wrong. And since we’re free to be wrong, we’re free to let others be wrong as well. The same atonement covers their mistakes too. So we can relax with our friends and neighbors and dear ones. We don’t have to account for their mistakes. Jesus has done that already. The more we understand that, the more we realize that the church, the communion of forgiven sinners, is the safest place in the world to make a mistake.

Some of us are slowly catching on to the pain of our friends on the farm. Films like "Country" and "The River" are bringing it home to us, how the economics of agriculture are stacked against the farmer, how even prudent managers are losing their land. One of the signs of the pain is the tendency to withdraw from the world. Farmers who used to be regular at church and who enjoyed watching the high school basketball team now are staying home. We can understand why. They’re embarrassed. They’ve done their job well but they’re failing. Who wants to admit that? For them the communion of saints is not the place to fall flat on your face. Somehow we’ve allowed the church to be a temple filled with Pharisees hung up on the need to be right. Somehow we still need to work at experiencing the church as a fellowship of forgiven tax collectors, people who have the freedom to be wrong and the freedom to let others be wrong, the freedom to humble ourselves and admit we need help. Now the freedom to be wrong won’t pay off the mortgage, but it can give us the willingness to listen to each other without raising our eyebrows or clucking our tongues. The freedom to be wrong gives us the kind of climate where those of us who are hurting can open up and receive support and perhaps gain new insights that can help us find new meaning, new outlets, and new energy.

The Good News today is this: that the good Lord has justified us for Christ’s sake, and that this empowers us to live with the reality that we’re less than perfect. God love you!