What happens if we die before confessing our sins?

B. Now, I know you will be giving me the old story, about not being done with myself, but I want a direct answer to my question. Well, then, I got up this morning at six o'clock, say, and after the usual morning duties, left at eight for business. But now, observe, up to that hour, eight o'clock, suppose I had confessed all my sins to God, and been forgiven, but at nine o'clock, I drop down dead; what about the sins I committed between eight and nine?

A. Well, if your forgiveness depended on your confession of sin, and asking forgiveness, and you had not done either, of course you would have died in your sins. But if, on the other hand, your forgiveness depends on the efficacy of the blood of Christ, they would have been all forgiven, whether you confessed them or not; on the ground, mark, of God acting in grace towards you, through the atonement of His beloved Son. God forgives the believer, not merely because he confesses his sins, though that is always right, but because Christ put them away on the cross.

It has been often said that if the whole question of our sins was not settled at the cross, it never can be settled throughout the countless ages of eternity, for Christ is not coming to die again. He offered one sin offering on the cross. How many of your sins were there? Were they all there? Thank God, they were, if you are a true believer. Were only the sins you can remember borne there? No; all were laid upon Him. As we read, "Though he wist it not, yet is he guilty" (ch. 5:17). That is an important point, for some Christians have thought that every time they sin they have to pray for forgiveness, and that if they do not pray they will not be forgiven. And very often they are troubled as to whether any sins they may have committed have been left unconfessed.

One Christian asked another once, "Suppose, now, that you were killed in a railway accident, and you had not confessed your sins for the day, what would become of you?" The answer was, "Well, I am sure I do not know. I am not at all sure what would become of me." And many think that they do not get forgiveness of their sins unless they ask God to forgive them, and then the asking becomes a formal thing very often. At night or when they say "grace," as it is called, they just make a general confession of sins, saying, "Forgive us all our sins for Christ's sake." That is not confession to God; that is not at all what God means by confession. "Though he wist it not, yet is he guilty," because a sin is a sin in God's sight, whether you are aware of it or not, and sin is judged according to the standard of His holiness and not according to our thoughts about it. "The thought of foolishness is sin," and every independent act of our will is sin.

How many sins have we committed today? God only knows. What, then, is to become of us if we leave any unconfessed? No doubt we have committed some that we are not aware of. The more we grow in grace, the more we see what sin is, but God saw it was sin before you found it out. It is a blessed thing to think of. God Himself, in His holiness, knows every single sin that we have ever committed; He knows them all. He does not leave one out, just as He will not leave one out for the unconverted at the judgment day. Not one will be forgotten in that day, so God did not leave out one of the sins of those who believe when He laid them on the head of His beloved Son, who bore them all. That is why it needed a divine person to do the work, one who could view sin as God views it, and who but a divine person could do that? It was the Lord Jesus who knew what sin is in the sight of God, who knew our sins, who took them all, every one, and bore them in His own body on the tree. I do not say past, present or future sins, because Scripture never speaks in that way. We ought not to think of future sins at all. It is a monstrous thing to say, "I am going to commit sins tomorrow." We can speak only of past sins; future sins are not to be thought of. The simple question is, How many sins had you and I committed when Christ died? They were all future then. He answered to God for every one, blessed be His name. What did we read in Hebrews 10?

A. Just so. Confession, I fully admit, has an important place in the word of God. "If we confess our sins," the apostle says, "he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." (1 John 1:9.) Whenever we truly confess our sins, God graciously forgives them. It is His own appointed way for the relief of the conscience. But suppose you commit a sin, and remain ignorant of it all the days of your life, what then? you can neither confess it, nor ask forgiveness. How are you to be forgiven in such a case?

But death-bed repentances are very unsatisfactory things. I am far from denying that a man, even at the eleventh hour of life, if he really turns to the Saviour and puts his trust in His precious blood, will find mercy. The grace of God is infinite, and I have no doubt many will be in heaven who were saved upon a dying bed.

But I would say a few words on the condition of the other thief, and on the reply of Christ. We see every mark of conversion, and of the most remarkable faith. The fear of God, the beginning of wisdom, is there; conscience upright and vigorous. It is not "and justly" to his fellow, but "we indeed justly"; knowledge of the perfect sinless righteousness of Christ as man; the acknowledgment of Him as the Lord, when His own disciples had forsaken and denied Him, and when there was no sign of His glory or of the dignity of His Person. He was accounted by man as one like himself. His kingdom was but a subject of scorn to all. But the poor thief is taught of God; and all is plain. He is as sure that Christ will have the kingdom as if He was reigning in glory. All his desire is that Christ should remember him then; and what confidence in Christ is here shown through the knowledge of Him in spite of his acknowledged guilt! It shows how Christ filled his heart, and how his confiding in grace by its brightness shut out human shame, for who would like to be remembered in the shame of a gibbet! Divine teaching is singularly manifested here. Do not we know by divine teaching that Christ was sinless, and to be assured of His kingdom there was a faith above all circumstances? He alone is a comfort to Jesus upon the cross, and makes Him think (in answering his faith) of the Paradise that awaited Him when He should have finished the work that His Father had given Him to do. Observe the state of sanctification this poor man was in by faith. In all the agonies of the cross, and while believing Jesus to be the Lord, he seeks no relief at His hands, but asks that He will remember him in His kingdom. He is filled with one thought — to have his portion with Jesus. He believes that the Lord will return; he believes in the kingdom, while the King is rejected and crucified, and when, as to man, there was no longer any hope. But the reply of Jesus goes farther in the revelation of that proper to this Gospel, and adds that which brings in, not the kingdom, but everlasting life, the happiness of the soul. The thief had asked Jesus to remember him when He returned in His kingdom. The Lord replies that he should not wait for that day of manifested glory which would be visible to the world, but that this very day he should be with Him in Paradise. Precious testimony, and perfect grace! Jesus crucified was more than King — He was Saviour. The poor malefactor was a testimony to it, and the joy and consolation of the Lord's heart — the first-fruits of the love which had placed them side by side, where, if the poor thief bore the fruit of his sins from man, the Lord of glory at his side was bearing the fruit of them from God, treated as Himself a malefactor in the same condemnation. Through a work unknown to man save by faith the sins of His companion were for ever put away, they no longer existed, their remembrance was only that of the grace which had taken them away, and which had for ever cleansed his soul from them, making him that moment as fit to enter Paradise as Christ Himself his companion there!

Jesus works the great work of salvation in the heart of one of the malefactors. It was a real work within: it was not merely a work ever so perfectly done outside. Most assuredly there never was a soul saved but the work was done for him — done alone by Jesus — He alone suffering, the sinner saved. But where the heart knows the work done for the soul, there is a work done in that very soul. So it was here: and it is of great importance that those who maintain the work for, should equally maintain the work in. Even in this case, where the effect was produced rapidly, the Spirit of God has given us the great moral traits of it. First of all appears a hatred of sin in the fear of God; then the repentant heart rebukes the shameless evil of his fellow, who feels that it is, least of all, a time thus to sin boldly in the presence of death, and of God's judgment. "We indeed justly; but this man hath done nothing amiss." Evidently there was more than righteousness here. There was a sense of grace, as well as of sin, and sensitiveness about God's will. There was delight in "this man," Jesus, whose holiness made such an impression, that the poor felon, now a believer, could challenge all the world, and feel no more doubt of the Lord's blameless life than if he had witnessed it all through. How great is the simplicity and assurance of faith! Who was he that could correct the judgment of priests or governor? "This man hath done nothing amiss." It was a crucified robber! He forgot Himself in Christ the Lord thus vindicated. Then he turns to Jesus, and says, "Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom." Yes! and Jesus will remember — could not put Him aside. He never cast out either a soul that came to Him, or a prayer that was founded on His glory, and desired association with Him. It could not be. He came down to associate with the poorest and feeblest on earth. He is now gone on high to associate with Himself there those who were once, possibly, the worst on the earth, now with Himself above, cleansed of course (need we say it?) — cleansed by water and blood. And so with this soul whom grace had now touched. "Lord, remember me when thou comest in thy kingdom." What more convincing proof that the man had not an anxiety about his sins? for if he had, he would, of course, have put it forward. He would have said, "Lord, do not remember my sins." Nothing of the sort was uttered, but "Lord, remember me." What would Christ's kingdom be to him, if his sins were not blotted out? He so counted on His grace, that no doubt or question remained, and he asks to be remembered by Jesus at His advent, ascribing the kingdom to Him who was hanging on the cross. He was right; and Jesus replies with ineffable grace, and according to that style so worthy of God (compare Psalm 132), which not only answers the prayer of faith, but invariably surpasses it. God must be God in His recognition of faith, as everywhere else. We saw on the mount of transfiguration that there is a blessedness beyond that of the kingdom, where government is not in question. This is not the theme predicted by prophets, but a glory which the person of Jesus alone can account for, and His grace alone introduce to. So here Jesus says to the converted robber, "This day shalt thou be with me in paradise" — at once, by virtue of His blood, the companion of Christ in the garden of divine joy and delight. (Verses 39-43.)

But how blessed to meditate on the case of that man hanging beside the precious Christ of God on the cross — a murderer, notorious for sedition and robbery, and no doubt for villainy of every kind! In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, that man passes from death to life; and in all the misery and wretchedness of his soul he turns to Christ, and says, as it were, I will reverse all the verdict against you, all the judgment against you. You are a King; you have a kingdom; you will wear a crown; you are coming to reign. I am only a poor thief; let me wrap my soul in your eternal perfections. "Lord, remember me." Oh, what a balm for the heart of Christ that was! What a blessed, wondrous cheer from God for the heart of His own Son in the very first moment of His victory in death, that one should be hanging upon that cross who was the comfort and solace of His heart amidst the contempt, the jeers, the scoffs, the scorn and ridicule, all around!

What words were that day uttered at the cross! The Lord interceded for His persecutors, and the-dying thief acknowledged his sin, yet desired to be remembered by the King in His kingdom. Had he been innocent, such words would have been natural; but, being guilty, they must have sounded strange to any who heard them, for in the presence of his future Judge he was not afraid to confess his guilt, nor desirous that it should lie in merited oblivion. How completely was he at ease with the Lord, of whom naturally he had every reason to be afraid. He was a sinner, and he acknowledged it. There was something, however, in the Lord, which gave the thief unbounded confidence in His presence. He did not ask for any sacrifice to be offered up on his behalf; his prayer tells us that he did not feel the want of it, and the Lord's answer shows us there was no need of it. "Remember me when thou comest in thy kingdom," not into, but in — that is, in the royal pomp and power which belonged to Him who was then, and is still, the King. The thief looked on to a future day, and assuredly that prayer will be manifestly fulfilled; but the Lord, in answer, spoke to him of what would take place that day. "Verily, I say to thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise."

The high priest laid his hand on the victim and confessed the sins of the people. So Christ confessed the sins of His own. Expiation is already made. He bore in His own body all the sins He confessed, which often trouble the children of God. If there were a single sin of mine unconfessed and not borne away, it would be manifested in the judgment; but God has seen it to the uttermost, and therefore was Christ's blood shed. (Lev. 6:26.) The priest ate the victim offered for sin, and ate it in the holy place. Christ charged Himself with our sins in detail; and it is in seeing this weight on Jesus that we feel better the effect of sin. He could do nothing for us without bearing this weight, the judgment of sin in our stead; not merely our sicknesses and diseases in His life of ministry, but our iniquities and transgressions in His death. God would not be just toward Christ (a thing impossible toward any one) if He did not pardon the sins of all who believe. He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins. It is God's righteousness, due to Christ and to His work on the cross, that He pardons all who turn to Him in Christ's name. It is sovereign grace toward us; for what do we not deserve? But it is grace reigning through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord.

More: He not only sees our sins thus, as one whole, but He saw them thus nineteen centuries ago. All our sins were future then, but God saw them all, and laid them upon Christ. If there is a single sin that you have ever committed, or may yet commit, which was not laid upon Christ, that sin must remain for ever unatoned for, and there can be no heaven for you. Thank God, the believer has reason to know that every sin of his life was borne by his Saviour at Calvary, and that as a necessary consequence every sin of his life, from cradle to coffin, was blotted out when he trusted in Christ. As a child of God he may sin, and will need forgiveness as such from his Father. But never again will he have to approach God as one who needs forgiveness as a guilty criminal under the sentence of eternal doom.