Don’t Ask God for Forgiveness
Kyle was a student in a university ministry I worked for a decade ago. Based on a wrong view of forgiveness, he often dreaded going to bed: what if he died in his sleep, forgetting to ask forgiveness for a specific sin from that day? Similarly, participants of various recovery ministries can be charged to be grossly introspective, always on the hunt for more sin, and then led through somber—sometimes self-flagellating—requests for forgiveness. In my own perfectionistic tendencies, I regularly battle guilt for my sin, which creates a spiral of shame and at times hiding, as I ask God to forgive the same sin over and over again.
However, there are zero examples or commands to ask God for repeated forgiveness in the New Testament after the resurrection. If Jesus’s death covered our sin once and for all, there’s no place in post-resurrection life to “ask God’s forgiveness” for repeated sins: in Christ they’re already forgiven, once and for all.
“Asking” for something is future-oriented and conditional; it’s seeking something I may or may not receive. While in seminary I was first able to articulate a disconnect between two theologies I’d heard: one said I needed to ask God to forgive any sin I discovered. The other (God’s New Testament promise) said that Jesus’s sacrifice already covered every sin I have ever, or will ever, commit.
If in Christ God already removed our transgressions, why must we ask him to forgive us again (and again and again)? If God already forgave my sin (through an event that occurred both in history past at the cross, and in my experiential past when I trusted in him for that forgiveness), why does every Christian tradition teach followers of Jesus to ask God’s forgiveness anew, every time we discover another sinful act, thought, or desire?
These questions sent me on a journey through the Bible in my seminary days. In much of the Bible, the word “forgiveness” relates to one’s right standing before God—which, in the Old Testament, occurs through the blood of a sacrifice. In his New Testament letter, however, John uses the term “forgiveness” differently—and that different meaning is the starting point for our misapplied practice of “asking for forgiveness.”
The letter of 1 John contains the verse that is most used in charging Jesus’s followers to ask for God’s forgiveness: “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). It’s worth noting that John does not charge readers to ask God’s forgiveness for repeated sin. But this verse does read as if God’s forgiveness is conditional on our confession.
One legitimate way to interpret the verse lines up with James: confession does not bring about God’s “forgiveness” as it relates to our standing with God. Rather, our confession of sin and turning to God is a means by which he restores us to greater intimacy.
A second interpretation stems from seeing that John’s letter addresses readers who think they’re Christians, but who instead rely on falsehoods—wrong beliefs, their own religious actions, or other forms of morality—as the basis of their faith, instead of true, repentant hearts who hope in Jesus. Of these, John says bluntly that God’s “truth is not in [them]” (1 John 2:4).
Growing up in a religious culture, I’ve seen versions of John’s audience my whole life. People think they’re “saved” because they go to church; they uphold Judeo-Christian values; they’re a little more moral than their neighbor. In this, some religious people falsely believe that this makes them Christians. Their status rests on their actions rather than an actual change of heart, allegiance, and dependence.
In this second interpretation, John’s call in verse 9 is not for believers to repeatedly ask God for forgiveness, but for nonbelievers (who think they are believers) to realize their folly, admit their sin for the first time, repent, and turn to God. Through this lens, 1 John 1:9 is actually about God’s initial forgiveness.
Whichever interpretation is correct, this verse can’t be about Christians asking God’s repeated forgiveness. John aligns with the rest of the New Testament: (a) when a nonbeliever initially turns to God, admits he or she is indeed a sinner, and trusts Jesus as their Savior, then God is faithful and just, and will (it’s a promise, not a hope) forgive their every sin, and purify them from every form of (past, present, and future) unrighteousness, by the blood of his perfect Son; and (b) if our sin distances us relationally from intimacy with God, though our right standing is unchanged, our confession and return is all it takes for God to restore that lost intimacy.
The final question is, “What do we do with our sin?” Saying that the gospel frees followers of Jesus from repeatedly asking for forgiveness can also sound like an invitation for Christians to minimize our repeated sin. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
Rather than a low view of sin, a right view of forgiveness leads us to a high view of God, and a deeper appreciation for Jesus’s death and resurrection. While the confessional booth requires penance and repeated forgiveness, several church traditions reflect our right response to ongoing sin: when we discover sin, we participate in “confession and assurance of pardon.”
These acts are commanded and practiced by Jesus’s followers throughout the New Testament and history: when we discover lingering sin in our lives, the gospel invites and empowers us to confess and repent, and to be assured of our “forgiven” status before God. In other words, in confession and assurance we don’t minimize present sin; we instead celebrate the magnitude of Jesus’s past completed work.
In the gospel, the context of already being forgiven becomes a joyful act of seeking God’s help rather than a somber one of fearing his punishment. “God,” we might say, “You revealed something in me that is unlike You. But I know it’s already forgiven and I’m free—so I want to confess my inadequacy. Resting in Your forgiveness and grace, I need Your help in becoming more like You.”
We get to thank God for revealing our inadequacy, and we get to ask for his help in turning from our sin to a different (better!) thing. And as God helps turn us from sin, we grow a little more into the pure and clean person he already declared us to be. We accept a little more of the gift he gave us two thousand years ago.
The gospel changes our view of forgiveness! Sister or brother, when we discover sin, let’s simply confess it to God, ask him to help us turn our eyes back to him, and concurrently be assured of God’s pardon: in this we get to rejoice. Let’s no longer wallow in fear and penance, trying to earn our way into God’s graces. Let’s stop asking God for forgiveness. Rather, let’s rest in the forgiveness he’s already granted. And let’s celebrate the good news of the gospel, as it applies to our sin: “by his wounds you have been healed” (1 Pet. 2:24).
Adapted from Reading the Bible, Missing the Gospel: Recovering from (Shockingly Common) Ways We Get the Bible Wrong in Our Everyday Lives by Ben Connelly (© 2022). Published by Moody Publishers. Used by permission.
Ben Connelly is a pastor, author, equipper, and occasional professor. He is honored to serve everyday disciples, ministry leaders, and church planters across the world through The Equipping Group, and to help lead Salt+Light Community and Plant Fort Worth in Fort Worth, Texas. Ben has written/contributed to several books, workbooks, articles, and publications, has overseen church planting efforts for multiple organizations, and has also taught university and seminary classes. He and Jess have three children (Charlotte, Maggie, and Travis) and at times, host short-term foster kids too. You can find Ben at @connellyben on various social media platforms.