136 Sermon Illustrations on Confession

“When I kept silence, my bones waxed old through my roaring all the day long.” Psalm 32:3

There is nothing that so takes the joy out of life like unconfessed sin on the conscience.

I once heard the late Dr. F. E. Marsh tell that on one occasion he was preaching on this question and urging upon his hearers the importance of confession of sin and wherever possible, of restitution for wrong done to others.

At the close a young man, a member of the church, came up to him with a troubled countenance. “Pastor,” he explained, “you have put me in a sad fix. I have wronged another and I am ashamed to confess it or to try to put it right. You see, I am a boatbuilder and the man I work for is an infidel. I have talked to him often about his need of Christ and have urged him to come and hear you preach, but he scoffs and ridicules it all. Now, I have been guilty of something that, if I should acknowledge it to him, will ruin my testimony forever.”

He then went on to say that sometime ago he started to build a boat for himself in his own yard. In this work copper nails are used because they do not rust in the water. These nails are quite expensive and the young man had been carrying home quantities of them to use on the job. He knew it was stealing, but he tried to salve his conscience by telling himself that the master had so many he would never miss them and besides he was not being paid all that he thought he deserved. But this sermon had brought him to face the fact that he was just a common thief, for whose dishonest actions there was no excuse.

“But,” said he, “I cannot go to my boss and tell him what I have done or offer to pay for those I have used and return the rest. If I do he will think I am just a hypocrite. And yet those copper nails are digging into my conscience and I know I shall never have peace until I put this matter right.”

For weeks the struggle went on. Then one night he came to Dr. Marsh and exclaimed, “Pastor, I’ve settled for the copper nails and my conscience is relieved at last.”

“What happened when you confessed to your employer what you had done?” asked the pastor.

“Oh,” he answered, “he looked queerly at me, then exclaimed, ‘George, I always did think you were just a hypocrite, but now I begin to feel there’s something in this Christianity after all. Any religion that would make a dishonest workman come back and confess that he had been stealing copper nails and offer to settle for them, must be worth having.’”

Dr. Marsh asked if he might use the story, and was granted permission.

Sometime afterward, he told it in another city. The next day a lady came up and said, “Doctor, I have had ‘copper nails’ on my conscience too.” “Why, surely, you are not a boatbuilder!” “No, but I am a book-lover and I have stolen a number of books from a friend of mine who gets far more than I could ever afford. I decided last night I must get rid of the ‘copper nails,’ so I took them all back to her today and confessed my sin. I can’t tell you how relieved I am. She forgave me, and God has forgiven me … I am so thankful the ‘copper nails’ are not digging into my conscience any more.”

I have told this story many times and almost invariably people have come to me afterward telling of “copper nails” in one form or another that they had to get rid of. On one occasion, I told it at a High School chapel service. The next day the principal saw me and said, “As a result of that ‘copper nails’ story, ever so many stolen fountain pens and other things have been returned to their rightful owners.”

Reformation and restitution do not save. But where one is truly repentant and has come to God in sincere confession, he will want to the best of his ability to put things right with others.

I heard a story about two young men who came to New York City from the country on a visit. They went to the same boarding-house to stay and took a room together. Well, when they came to go to bed each felt ashamed to go down on his knees before his companion first. So they sat watching each other. In fact, to express the situation in one word, they were both cowards--yes, cowards! But at last one of them mustered up a little courage, and with burning blushes, as if he was about to do something wrong and wicked, he sunk down on his knees to say his prayers. As soon as the second saw that, he also knelt. And then, after they had said their prayers, each waited for the other to get up. When they did manage to get up one said to the other: "I really am glad to see that you knelt; I was afraid of you." "Well," said the other, "and I was afraid of you." So it turned out that both were Christians, and yet they were afraid of each other. You smile at that, but how many times have you done the same thing--perhaps not in that way, but the same thing in effect. Henceforth, then, be not ashamed, but let everyone know you are His.

One week ago I preached on the text, "Christ came to heal the broken-hearted." I told you just before I came down that I had received a letter from a broken-hearted wife. Her husband one night came in, to her surprise, and said he was a defaulter and must flee, and he went, she knew not where. He forsook her and two children. It was a pitiful letter, and the wail of that poor woman seems to ring in my ears yet. That night up in that gallery was a man whose heart began to beat when I told the story, thinking it was him I meant, till I came to the two children. When I got through I found that he had taken money which did not belong to him, intending to replace it, but he failed to do so, and fled. He said: "I have a beautiful wife and three children, but I had to leave her and come to Chicago, where I have been hiding. The Governor of the State has offered a reward for me." My friends, a week ago this poor fellow found out the truth of this text. He was in great agony. He felt as if he could not carry the burden, and he said, "Mr. Moody, I want you to pray with me. Ask God for mercy for me." And down we went on our knees. I don't know as I ever felt so bad for a man in my life. He asked me if I thought he should go back. I told him to ask the Lord, and we prayed over it. That was Sunday evening, and I asked him to meet me on the Monday evening. He told how hard it was to go back to that town and give himself up and disgrace his wife and children. They would give him ten years. Monday came and he met me and said, "Mr. Moody, I have prayed over this matter, and I think that Christ has forgiven me, but I don't belong to myself. I must go back and give myself up. I expect to be sent to the penitentiary; but I must go." He asked me to pray for his wife and children, and he went off. He will be there to-day in the hands of justice. My friends, don't say the way of the transgressor is not hard.

A minister in Brooklyn was recently called upon by a business-man, who said, "I come, sir, to inquire if Jesus Christ will take me into the concern as a silent partner."—"Why do you ask?" said the minister. "Because I wish to be a member of the firm, and do not wish anybody to know it," said the man. The reply was, "Christ takes no silent partners. The firm must be 'Jesus Christ & Co.'; and the names of the 'Co.,' though they may occupy a subordinate place, must all be written out on the signboard."

As a man who hath money to pay is loath to part with it; but, when it is once paid, he is glad that it is discharged: even so men, before they have confessed their sins, are unwilling to disburthen themselves of them; but, when confession is once made, they have eased their hearts, and find such comfort as they could not before conceive. Caudray.

As beggars, if they have any good thing, conceal and hide it, and only show their rags and sores, whereby they may move beholders to pity them; even so it behooveth us not to boast our good deeds before God, as the Pharisee did, but to confess our own evil deeds, if we will provoke the Lord's mercy towards us, as the publican did.

— Cawdray

It is said of the elephant, that, before he drinks in the river, he troubles the water with his feet, that he may not see his own deformity; and it is well for the old not to mind the looking-glass, lest they behold nothing but hollow eyes, pale cheeks, and a wrinkled front, — the ruins of a more beautiful visage. Thus it is that men by nature are hardly drawn to the confession of their sins, but every man is ready to hide his sins by excusing them, with Aaron; by coloring them with fair pretences, as did the Jews; by laying them on others, as Adam did; or by denying them, with Solomon's harlots.

— Spencer

It is mentioned in a fable, how the wolf, the fox, and the ass went to shrift together to do penance. The wolf confesseth to the fox, who easily absolve him; the fox doth the like to the wolf, and receiveth the like favor; after this, the ass comes to confession, and his fault was, that, being hungry, he had taken one straw from the sheaf of a pilgrim travelling to Rome, whereof he was heartily penitent: but that would not serve, the law was executed severely upon him; he was slain and devoured. By the wolf is meant the pope; by the fox, his cardinals, Jesuits, and priests. These quickly absolve one another, how heinous soever their offences are; but when the poor ass, that is the Romish-ridden laity, come to shrift, though his offence be not the weight and worth of a straw, yet on his back shall the rigor of the law be laid: he shall be sure to pay for all.

— Spencer

Washington, when stationed in early life at Alexandria, with a regiment under his command, grew warm at an election, and said something offensive to a Mr. Payne, who, with one blow of his cane, brought him to the ground. On hearing of the insult, the regiment, burning for re-

# CONFESSIO

# HAPPY EFFECTS OF CONFESSION.

# 90. Procures Peace of Mind.

This eminent judge was never ashamed of publicly retracting any wrong opinion he had entertained, when once convinced of his mistake. He used frequently to say, probably after Dean Swift, who has a similar passage in his writings, "That to acknowledge you were wrong yesterday, was but to let the world know that you are wiser today than you were then."

# ON OF SIN.

member of a church in R—township, N. Y., had, according to the practice of the times, been accustomed to indulge in the use of intoxicating drinks. On one occasion he was so overcome as to falter in his step and stammer in his speech. A little time after this, having awakened to a sense of his spiritual declension, he came to the church and made an apparently most sincere and heart-broken confession. 91.92

CONFESSION OF SIN.

He confessed coldness, worldly-mindedness, neglect of prayer, neglect of the church, and almost all manner of backslidings. Yet he sat down without any alleviation of his distress. Conviction and anguish of spirit increased. He confessed again, and still his trouble increased. At three successive meetings his tears and his sad countenance added interest to his humiliating confessions, and still his soul was the more burdened. Finally he arose, and with a full soul, sobbing aloud, said, "I have been drunk. Will you forgive me?" The effect was electrical. Peace and joy filled his soul, and the forgiveness of his brethren and friends beamed on every countenance. Such is the result of a confession that covers the wrong.

# 91. Prevents Alienation.

In a small country town in Massachusetts, there lived two wealthy farmers, whose lands adjoined each other. On some account or other, they became involved in a lawsuit, which both lessened their money, and promoted a spirit of rancor towards each other. After a time, one of these men was convinced of the sinfulness of his past conduct, when, yielding to the influence of the gospel, he became desirous of reconciliation and friendship with his neighbor. With a trembling heart he rapped at the door of the man he had offended, which he had not before entered for six years. Not suspecting who it was, his neighbor invited him in. He went in, took his seat, acknowledged that he had in the affair been much to blame, and entreated forgiveness. The other was much astonished, but maintained his high ground. "I always knew you were to blame, and I never shall forgive you," with much more to the same purpose, was the reply given to him. He again confessed his wrong, asked the pardon of his neighbor, expressed a hope that the Divine Being would forgive him; and added, "We have been actuated by a wrong spirit; and we shall be afraid to meet each other at the bar of God, where we must soon appear." The other became a little softened, and they parted.

The family, when left to themselves, were filled with astonishment. But the mystery was solved when they learned that their neighbor had become a follower of Christ. "What!" said the farmer, "is S— become a Christian? Why should he come and ask my forgiveness? If religion will humble such a man, it is surely a great thing. He said, 'We shall be afraid to meet each other at the bar of God.'' Such reflections as these, with a consciousness of his own ill conduct, occasioned him great distress for several days. At length, he could smother his feelings no longer—he took his hat, and went to see his once hated neighbor. As he entered the door he received a cordial welcome; they took each other by the hand, and burst into tears. He said, "You came to ask my forgiveness the other day, but I find I have been a thousand times worse than you." They retired and prayed together. They became members of the same church, and lived many years in uninterrupted harmony.

# 93. Heals Divisions and Promotes Revivals.

A Christian minister, writing in 1834, states, that it had been long his practice previously to the commencement of the assizes, which were held in the town of his residence, to preach a sermon applicable to that solemn period. On one of these occasions, his text was 2 Cor. 5: 10: "For we must all appear before the Mr. W. as frankly forgave him, and cordially embraced him as a friend and brother. No sooner had he done this than Mr. D. kneeled down and poured out his soul in an appropriate, humble, penitential prayer. Before he concluded, two-thirds of the audience were bathed in tears. He was followed by addresses and prayers from some of the council; and then another was ready to confess his faults, and then another, to the last of the accused; each one taking Mr. Walker by the hand, and receiving forgiveness. He in turn asked their forgiveness wherein he had expressed himself improperly towards them. Pardon was also asked of the church, and cheerfully granted. This opened the door for Mr. W.'s friends, who, one after another, confessed whatever they had said, in an unchristian manner, against the opposite party. Thus two whole days, with the exception of time occupied in hearing two sermons, was spent in mutual confession and forgiveness. Before the council separated they took the papers which contained the charges on both sides, held them up to the view of the audience, declared they were about to make a burnt sacrifice of them, and committed them to the flames. On the evening of the second day, a conference meeting was held, in which several were so deeply impressed as to ask for prayers. From that time a revival of religion commenced. The above facts occurred in R— in 1819-20.

# OF, WITH THE GUILTY.

judgment seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad." A particular reference was made, in the course of the sermon, to the solemn proceedings of the judgment, that things done here in darkness would then be brought to light; and it was observed, "Perhaps there are some present this morning who have been engaged in some dark, dishonest transaction, which they suppose is altogether unknown, and will remain for ever concealed. Vain supposition! Let them know that, even now, every thing relative to that deed is fully exposed, and if unrepented of, will cover them with disgrace and confusion at the day of universal revelation; God will make their crimes to pass before them and set them in order before their eyes."

The next morning a gentleman called on him and requested a private interview, having something of importance to communicate. Having adjourned to a private apartment, he said, "My business with you, sir, is, I confess, singular, and must appear strange. The discourse you delivered last night has produced an extraordinary impression on Phebe T—. She sent for me early this morning, and most earnestly entreated me to wait upon you, and to intercede with you not to send the officers to apprehend her, for the purpose of conducting her to prison; and the only clue I can obtain from her to explain the cause of her excitement is, that 'you know it all.'"

It may be easily supposed that the minister was astonished at such a communication. The sentence in the sermon was an arrow from the bow drawn at a venture, but it was guided by a hand omniscient and powerful. He replied to his friend, that as he knew of nothing against the person in question, he was altogether at a loss to explain the agitation of her mind; but that he might assure her she should have no officers to trouble her. He also requested him to endeavor to find out the real cause of her distressful feelings.

Her subsequent statement of the case was this:—On a dark evening of one market-day, she had occasion to go out for some article of food, and, in her way, stumbled against something that lay in the road: she turned back for a light, and perceived it was a parcel of considerable size, dropped from a cart. She removed it to her apartment, and suffered it to remain for some time without making any inquiry respecting the owner, for she was unable to read. Curiosity excited her to acquaint herself with the contents of this parcel. She soon found it consisted of various articles of linen and woollen. Having, like Eve, looked and admired, she was tempted to take them for her own use; and, by degrees, the parcel was considerably diminished. No one knew but herself—except one, whose piercing eye strikes through the shades of night! and no one was likely to reproach her, except the vicegerent of the Almighty —her conscience!

Phebe T— was convinced that she had acted wrong; but, as confession alone is insufficient without reparation, the next step was to find out the owner of the parcel, in order to its being restored to him. The director soon discovered this, and the invoice forwarded with the goods helped to show the deficiency. In a short time the whole was made up, and forwarded to the owner, without the omission of a single article.

Forty-two years ago, says a writer in the Boston Mercantile Journal of 183—, my father was a poor man, with a wife as industrious as himself, and one child, and he worked early and late for a support. One dollar then in his purse made him feel richer than he now feels with a title to a good farm.

Returning home one day with a purse containing ten silver dollars in his pocket, he lost it on the road. Long and diligent was the search for it, but in vain, as a neighbor had picked it up and appropriated it to his own use. It must, however, have been a fire in his bosom; for how could he travel that road, or pass the house of his neighbor, without feeling the lashes of a guilty conscience?

Recently he has been brought under the influence of that gospel which teaches man to do justly. He went to his neighbor, confessed the injury done, asked his forgiveness, restored the money, promised the accumulated interest of forty two years, and any other remuneration in his power. "Not a wink," said he, "could I sleep last night; nor could I rest till I had made confession and restitution." # 374. R.

Saul and followers try to justify themselves rather than confess wrong. Try to make ceremonial observances take the place of full yieldedness to Christ

David blind to his own faults, condemns his own faults when he sees them in other people (v. 6). Is finally brought face to face with his sins and confesses. His fellowship with God restored, but God does not interfere with the consequences in his life (v. 11)

Everywhere on the streets one meets men, from the gray-haired veteran to the half-developed beau, all parading on breast or coat lapel some distinctive mark of membership in some association. There are medals with ribbons, medals without ribbons, and ribbons without medals. There are buttons; big buttons and little buttons; silk buttons and metal buttons. There are pins, gold and silver and plated; every imaginable kind of pin. And these are worn by ladies and misses of all rank and quality, down to the little silver cross of the King’s Daughters, so familiar everywhere. Nobody seems ashamed to own membership in these various societies and alliances. Men parade the streets under banners and flags, with uniforms, and distinctive feathers in their caps, and are not ashamed to acknowledge their favorite organizations. And yet there are many persons who seem to be ashamed to own their Lord and to confess His cause. (Text.)--_The Mid-Continent._

See FALSEHOOD.

* * * * *

Among the hard-working Labrador fishermen was a rich man who had opprest them, but whom they believed to be strong enough to defy them. Dr. Wilfred Grenfell, the medical missionary, who is also a magistrate, went to the offender and told him that he must confess his sin and pay back to the fishermen a thousand dollars. He curst the missionary. At the next church service, the doctor announced that a sinful man would confess his sin that night. They couldn’t believe that the rich sinner would yield. At the evening service, Dr. Grenfell asked them to keep their seats while he went after the sinner. He found the man at a brother’s house on his knees in prayer, with all the family.

“Prayer,” said the doctor, “is a good thing in its place, but it doesn’t ‘go’ here. Come with me.”

He meekly went, and was led up the aisle, where all could see him, and, after the doctor had described the great sin of which he was guilty, he asked, “Did you do this thing?” “I did.” “You are an evil man of whom the people should beware?” “I am.” “You deserve the punishment of man and God?” “I do.”

At the end of it all the doctor told the man that the good God would forgive him if he should ask in true faith and repentance, but that the people, being human, could not. For a whole year, he charged the people, they must not speak to that man; but if, at the end of that time, he had shown an honest disposition to mend his ways, they might take him to their hearts.

The man finally paid the money and fled the place.

A sergeant was accused, once upon a time, by his brethren of the court, of having degraded their order by taking from a client a fee in copper, and on being solemnly arraigned for this offense in their common hall, it appears from the unwritten reports of the Court of Common Pleas, that he defended himself by the following plea of confession and avoidance: “I fully admit that I took a fee from the man in copper, and not one, but several, and not only in copper, but fees in silver; but I pledge my honor as a sergeant, that I never took a single fee from him in silver until I had got all his gold, and that I never took a fee from him in copper until I had got all his silver, and you don’t call that a degradation of our order!” (Text.)--CROAKE JAMES, “Curiosities of Law and Lawyers.”

At a packed service May 1, 1988, elders at Grace Chapel in Lexington, Massachusetts, declared an end to Gordon MacDonald's restoration. Seven men helped him through the 10 month process. His affair was in 1984 and he confessed it to his wife in the fall of 1986. In early 1987 he confessed to 3 national evangelical leaders and they advised against a public confession. On June 5 he resigned from InterVarsity because an anonymous letter accused him of adultery. The MacDonalds were reinstated as members of Grace Chapel in the fall of 1987. His focus now will be on small groups and writing.

He has met several other leaders who are carrying secrets.

[see also #376 and #2343]

The TV show “Cops” follows police in live action. Any person shown full-face must sign a release form. Producer John Langley says, “I’m absolutely astonished by how many people caught with one hand in the cookie jar will use the other hand to sign a release permitting us to show their faces.” He thinks it is due to the instant fame of being on TV. One man savagely fought off 10 police and dogs, was pinned to the ground, then chirped to the TV crew, “Oh, hi guys. Did you get me on TV?”

The following item appeared on the editorial page of The Wall Street Journal, Thursday, Aug. 27, 1998, written by Franklin Graham.

“CLINTON’S SINS AREN’T PRIVATE”

Few people have lived a more public life over the past 50 years than has my father, Billy Graham. I can assure you that the Billy Graham you see in public is the same one we children have seen at home. He has spent a lifetime making sure that his public ministry in confirmed in his private behavior.

The topic of private vs. public behavior has emerged as perhaps the central moral issue raised by Bill Clinton’s “improper relationship” with Monica Lewinsky. Much of America seems to have succumbed to the notion that what a person does in private has little bearing on his public actions or job performance, even if he is the president of the United States.

Last week Mr Clinton told 70 million Americans that his adulterous actions with Ms. Lewinsky were a “private” matter “between me, the two people I love the most — my wife and our daughter — and our God.”

But the God of the Bible says that what one does in private does matter. Mr. Clinton’s months-long extramarital sexual behavior in the Oval Office now concerns him and the rest of the world, not just his immediate family. If he will lie to or mislead his wife and daughter, and those with whom he is most intimate, what will prevent him from doing the same to the American public?

Private conduct does have public consequences. Some of Mr. Clinton’s defenders present King David of the Bible, one of history’s great leaders, as an example as they call on us to forgive and forget the president’s moral failings. Since God pardoned David’s adulterous act with Bathsheba, the reasoning goes, we should similarly forgive Mr. Clinton.

But forgiveness is not the end of David’s story. Huge consequences followed immediately. The prophet Nathan confronted David with the news that while his life would be spared, the life of his child would be extinguished after just seven days on earth. Bathsheba’s husband and others were killed in an attempt to cover up the illicit affair. David, who confessed his sin when confronted by Nathan (perhaps God’s special prosecutor), also witnessed a bloody coup attempted by his own son, Absalom. He was never the same king.

The private acts of any person are never done in secret. God sees and judges all sin, and while He seeks to restore the offender with love and grace, He does not necessarily remove all the consequences of sin. As a boy I remember my mother telling me of the consequences of sin. Like a boat, whose wake can capsize other boats, sin leaves a wake. Just look at how many have already been pulled under the wake of the president’s sin: Mr. Clinton’s wife and daughter, Ms. Lewinsky, her parents, White House staff members, friends and supporters, public officials and an unwitting American public.

Mr. Clinton’s sin can be forgiven, but he must start by admitting to it and refraining from legalistic double speak. According to Scripture, the president did not have an “inappropriate relationship” with Monica Lewinsky – - he committed adultery. He didn’t “mislead” his wife and us — he lied.

Acknowledgment must be coupled with genuine remorse. A repentant spirit that says, “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I won’t do it again. I ask for your forgiveness,” would go a long way toward personal and national healing.

The scandal of Mr. Clinton and Ms. Lewinski has forced us to examine morality of public and private behavior with new intellectual and spiritual vigor. There needs to be no clash between personal conduct and public appearance. Throughout my life, I have seen consistency of two in the Graham house. I pray this will also be in the White House.

________________

Mr. Graham is president of Samaritan’s Purse, an international relief agency, and first vice chairman of Billy Graham Evangelistic Association

#1592

*

Sermon in 12 Step series. Steps 4 & 5: Taking inventory & confession.

================

TAKING INVENTORY

================

I. Taking stock of ourselves.

A. What assessment would you make of yourself?

B. We must learn not to minimize our defects.

C. In order to change, we must know ourselves intimately.

II. "Admitting to God, to ourselves, and to another human being."

A. Acting upon our self-evaluation. 2 Cor 7:10

B. Confession is humiliating, but also reveals the power of God.

III. The basics of confession.

A. Confessing to God. Psalm 51

B. Confessing to people. James 5:17

C. Confession is ancient, but controversial.

IV. True inventory and confession must be followed by actions.

Prior to World War II in Nazi Germany, Pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer conducted an underground seminary for the training of young pastors in Pomerania, with he shared a common life with about 25 students. His experience produced a now-famous spiritual classic, "Life Together," in which he documents the Biblical insights gained from that experience. In the last chapter of the book, "Communion and Confession," he gives some reasons for the practice of mutual confession. Primary among them is the isolation that sin brings. Sin drives Christians apart and produces a hellish individualism - a deadening autonomy. Says Bonhoeffer, "Sin demands to have a man by himself. It withdraws him from the community. The more isolated a person is, the more destructive will be the power of sin over him." But confession to a fellow brother or sister destroys this deadly autonomy. It pulls down the barrier of hypocrisy and allows the free flow of grace in the community.

The other main benefit of confession is that it brings healthy humiliation. Bonhoeffer goes on:

Confession in the presence of a brother is the profoundest kind of

humiliation. It hurts, it cuts a man down, it is a dreadful blow to pride.

To stand there before a brother as a sinner is an ignominy that is almost

unbearable. In the confession of concrete sins the old man does a painful,

shameful death before the eyes of a brother."

Thus confession helps to promote a poverty of spirit which is acceptable to God.

#2792

*

Lawrence Wright's "Remembering Satan" is a chilling true-crime narrative

about false-memory syndrome gone haywire. A few years ago in Olympia,

Washington, two sisters, 18 and 20, began to talk, separately, about gross

sexual abuse each said she had experienced as a child and had only recently

begun to remember. Charges were filed against the girls' father, Paul Ingram,

who seemed dazed and confused, but who denied them.

Ingram was the chief civil deputy of the county sheriff's department and

chairman of the local Republican Party. He was also a religious

Fundamentalist. With great earnestness he told investigators - his fellow

officers - that although he knew his children did not lie, he couldn't

remember any episodes of abuse. The associate pastor of his small religious

sect urged him to let go, to remember what he was repressing. God wouldn't

let him remember falsely, the pastor said.

Eventually, Ingram developed a technique for recovering memories. He took

each fresh, unfamiliar accusation and prayed over it until he went into a

trancelike haze. Two or three days later he would offer his interrogators a

detailed script of the scene, complete with dialogue and a cast list.

Lists were needed because the sisters' denunciations came to include their

mother and two adult brothers; two of their father's male friends (against

whom charges were brought); a sister of one of these men; assorted other

children and adults; additional members of the sheriff's department, including

the most convinced of the investigators; and a couple of police dogs used by

the department. Quite late in the process the notion of satanic rituals was

introduced by an investigator and enthusiastically agreed to by the sisters,

who had recently seen a Geraldo Rivera TV show on the subject. One sister

said that over several years she had been forced to witness the ritual murders

of 25 people and that an aborted fetus from her own pregnancy had been

ritually dismembered.

No dead babies were ever found, nor any evidence of pregnancy or abortion.

Nor did the sisters turn out to have the scars they claimed to have received

from ritual burnings and knifings. There was no physical evidence of any

kind. Further, the stories told separately by the sisters did not agree. As

the membership of the supposed satanic cult began to take on the size of an

amateur theatrical troupe and as the other Ingram family members began to

sound doubtful about their confessions, charges against Ingram's two male

friends were dropped and the investigation collapsed. Its premise, Wright

reflects, "was that something must have happened. At no time did the

detectives ever consider the possibility that the source of the memories was

the investigation itself - there was no other reality."

Paul Ingram, however, had already confessed. Appeals have failed, and he is

serving a 20-year prison sentence. Wright quotes with approval a troubling

question asked a couple of years ago by psychologist Elizabeth Loftus: "Is it

fair to compare the current growth of cases of repressed memory of child abuse

to the witch crazes of several centuries ago?"

#2972

*

Brother Dallas relates the following experience: One day my little

sister and I were playing in the yard. Mother had some little ducks

and I would put one of them in a tub of water to see him swim. Also, I

would put him under the water and hold him there. One time I held him

too long. He was a drowned duck. When I saw that I had drowned him I

was horrified, for I knew that sister would tell Mother. But, as I was

thus perplexed, my little sister said, "I will tell you what I will

do; if you will do everything I ask you to do I will not tell Mother."

This was a happy solution and I said, "Anything you want in this world

let me know and I will do it." We had a little wagon and soon sister

appeared, seated herself in the wagon and said, "Pull me." Well I did

till I was tired. Then she looked at me, with a kind of a tyrannical

look, and said, "Pull me some more." Well days went by and I woke up

to the fact that I was a slave. I could not endure it and made up my

mind to go to Mother and have it fixed up regardless. So I went into

the room crying pitifully and Mother took me in her arms and said,

"Son, what is the matter?" And finally I sobbed out, "Mother I've

drowned one of your ducks." "Well," she said, "you did not mean to do

it and you are so sorry, I will forgive you this time, go on and

play." I never felt so light and good in all my life. Finally, little

sister appeared and made some drastic demands on me, and I looked in

her face and said, "I will not do it." Then she said, with her finger

in my face, "Do you remember that duck?" Then I looked her in the eyes

and said, "Duck? I want to tell you that duck business is all fixed

up." It may be expensive to get matters fixed up but surely pays in

many ways.

By William Moses Tidwell, "Effective Illustrations."