Other "Thinking Drafts" and writing by Keith Drury -- http://www.indwes.edu/tuesday .

I was raised in a 'Camp meeting denomination.' That is, during my childhood, the defining gathering of our church's spiritual life was the annual pilgrimage to a 'campground' where we attended three or more services a day in a jam-packed 'tabernacle' (including a sawdust/straw floor) and we listened to powerful preachers who got most of us 'under conviction,' until there was a 'break' when many went forward during an 'altar call' to confess and get right with God.

At Camp meeting, confession came easily. In the emotion-charged atmosphere, under the influence of great preaching, when everyone else was also under conviction, it was easy to confess. The trouble for me was, confession was easier than reformation. It was much easier to admit my sin than to stop it. At camp meeting I'd tearfully confess that I'd cheated on a math test last May. But when September rolled around, I sometimes cheated again. As a teen I'd confess to some wandering profligate thoughts about one of the pretty girls in my grade, but actually stopping such imaginations was much more difficult than confessing it. That's the trouble with Camp meeting confessions. They make you feel better at camp, but don't always make a difference back home.

Camp meetings are back in style again, of course. Not the ten-day old fashioned kind with tents or little white shanties, but gigantic three-day conferences where you stay in hotels and eat in restaurants. But the atmosphere is the same. And, so are the dangers of 'Camp meeting confessions.'

Take one issue for instance. It was far easier to confess the sin of racism at last week's camp meetings than to actually do anything about it this week. The emotion is gone now. So is the support of that gigantic crowd. So, what do I do this week... on the Monday after camp meeting?' Will the white suburban church plant I'm involved with, search out a black church somewhere in town to partner with? Will we be willing to invest significant dollars and energy into reconciliation right as we are trying to buy land and build our first unit. Or, will we let ourselves off the hook with the old ploy, 'They can come here if they want.' I don't know.

And, what will I do the next time a guy makes a racist or (more likely) a marginal remark at lunch or at coffee break? Will I actually confront him, or let it pass like usual. Would I be willing to send some of our white tithers down town to black or Spanish churches -- just to help out? We really need their money right now, with the building plans and all. Could we spare them? Better yet, would *I* be willing to go? I doubt it. How many of the confessors from last week will schedule a major offering to give to a minority church -- totally undesignated, and with no strings attached? Even without calling the newspaper to get credit? And, I wonder if we'll reform the way we look at 'Christian' political issues? Are we willing to upgrade 'compassion for the poor' to a level with our other evangelical 'litmus tests?' It's so much easier to confess past sins than avoid future ones. Yet, without reformation, confession is merely last week's emotional dew which evaporates by the following Monday.

And, I can't just limit my confession and reformation just to the evangelical's 'designer sins of this decade' -- racism and disunity. God cares about other sins too. Isn't it a little hypocritical for me to confess my racist sins while ignoring my sexist ones? Isn't it a little preposterous to reach out to men of color while excluding women? To keep women off church boards and ruling councils by policy or off-the-record practice? To brag that 'You'll never hear a woman preach from this pulpit while I am here.' To exclude woman ministers from our conference dedicated to revival of the nation? Are these sexist sins somehow less serious than racial sins?

The truth is, confession is far easier than reformation. And its reformation that God wants of us. Confession is the first step.

Our job this week: turning confession into real reformation. To accomplish this we've got to take some action. It just wont happen if it doesn't get on our 'to do list,' and into our schedule, and on to our budgets. What action will you take... or plan this week? Because if we actually do nothing, all that 40,000 men did last week was make a 'Camp meeting confession' -- which may be good for the soul, but it will be little good for anything else.

So, this is a sober column, applauding our confession, but calling for more: our reformation. Otherwise we should change our name to PromiseMakers...

So what do you think?

To contribute to the thinking on this issue e-mail your response to Tuesday@indwes.edu