Reflections On Repentance.

I don't know what it is about 11:00 PM that triggers my brain to write a blog. It must be my writing witching hour, or my body's way of processing the day's events.

The sermon today was both thought-provoking and disturbing. It was thought-provoking in that the message was particularly applicable to my life as of late; it was disturbing because I came to the alarming realization that my pastor has been spying on me. I don't know how he has been getting away with it, but clearly he has been taking notes on the subject of my sin. The joke's on him, though, because I'm a bloated pregnant lady who spends most of her free time running around in her husband's boxer shorts. I think we all know who's getting the bigger end of the trauma stick...

Anyway, the sermon was awesome, and I was ROCKED.

It was about keeping up appearances, which is not a novel idea for a sermon. I don't know why... for some reason this one hit me. The pastor was preaching on the reputation of Sardis, a city universally known for its emphasis on education, class, social standing, and overall too-cool-for-school-ery. The book of Revelation is comprised of letters to different churches, including one Paul wrote to the believers in Sardis. In it, he says,

" [...] I know your deeds; you have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead. ² Wake up! Strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have found your deeds unfinished in the sight of my God. ³ Remember, therefore, what you have received and heard; hold it fast, and repent. But if you do not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what time I will come to you" (3: 1-3).

Let me just jump into the Insight Pool. When I read this, I had to ask myself some questions. They began cascading into my head, one on top of the other.

What do I have a reputation for?

What image do I strive to craft?

And are these two aligned?

Most importantly, are these things aligned with God's agenda for my life?

I was particularly struck by the imperative, "Wake up!" I feel like Paul could be translated as saying, "You're a zombie doing an impression of a living, breathing person. GET REAL."

I needed to hear that. I don't know what my reputation is for, but I'm sure it differs depending upon whom you ask. (Of whom you ask the question? Gah!) I bet on any given day, a sampling of people would say that my reputation is for being sassy and brash, impulsive and judgmental. On a better day, a particularly merciful/delusional friend might say I'm kindhearted and generous, silly and compassionate.

Don't you see the problem with that? There's a PROBLEM when two people could walk away with two very different impressions of you. Don't get me wrong; I understand that we're all multi-faceted, and how we express that plays out differently depending upon the audience. But I am *striving* for consistency of character, and that's where I see a gaping hole in my identity. I think it comes back to this question: Who am I trying to please? When I lose sight of my identity in Christ, the answer is, "Everyone and anyone who might just praise me." When I realign myself with God's truth about my identity -- that I was created by and for Him, with unshakeable value by virtue of that fact -- the answer suddenly becomes, "Christ and Christ alone, at any expense." How freeing, that I can be myself entirely when I'm only trying to please ONE master, instead of 1,000.

That subject alone is enough to write a blog post about, but Paul didn't really care about my need to keep my blogs succinct. I was also jarred by the statement, "[...] I have found your deeds unfinished in my sight." Translation: Melanie, you half-ass your way through life. Right you are, Lord. Right you are. (Also, watch your mouth, Lord.)

Don't you see the problem with that? When was the last time any of us gave 100% to anything? When was the last time I focused solely on Fable, instead of dividing myself between Facebook and cleaning and finally, giving her the dregs? When was the last time I went the distance in a tough friendship? Hell, when was the last time I finished a needlepoint?! (I suppose I would have to start a needlepoint in order to answer that question honestly. I also suppose I'll have to wait until I'm 65 before that question is really applicable. But when I'm 65 I'm sure I'll still be having these issues. I digress...) The point is, I have a hard time committing and following through on the little things in life. It's not hard for me to see how I have left the spiritual matters unfinished, and those are the issues that really, eternally count.

By this point in the sermon, I was so moved with conviction that I felt like lecturing myself. For all you Lutherans out there, don't worry; it was a healthy dose of conviction that I'll probably forget all about by tomorrow morning. ;)

The only thing I care about once I've been convicted of something is the practical step I can take to rectify my situation. How can I make myself right with God? How can I make my ways more like His ways? Thankfully, Paul predicted my need for practical guidance and summed it up in one word:

Repent.

And there's the punch to the gut. Let's make this personal. When was the last time you sincerely asked for forgiveness for something you did wrong? When was the last time you and your husband argued and you stopped mid-sentence to say, "You know what? You're right. You're completely right. I have no defense, no explanation worth giving. I'm just sorry." If you're anything like me, you'd sooner go down with the ship than wave the white flag. I claw tooth and nail, cling to any plausible defense, because I'm self-righteous and prideful, and I want to be in the right, even if it means professing half-truths.

And really, what place does repentance have in a postmodern faith? A light bulb went on my brain when I heard that word today, almost as if I was hearing it for the first time. Christians today are so consumed with preaching *love* that we have done away with the need for change. Don't worry, Jesus loves you just the way you are-- so much so that you needn't feel a modicum of discomfort about your sin! Just vaguely love Jesus and/or others back- in whatever way is most convenient for you-- and you're golden. I'm frustrated with myself for internalizing that deformed doctrine. It seems that this approach to faith is a response to the legalism of previous generations. People were so oppressed by the practice of trying to earn God's love by good works that they burnt out on faith. So now, in an attempt to reintroduce unbelievers to the Lord, Christian doctrine has gone to the other extreme. We don't have to *do* anything to be a Christian anymore-- whether that's physically, emotionally, or spiritually. And that leads us to believe that so long as someone seems to love others well, it doesn't even matter if he professes to know the Lord. "God judges the heart, and that person seems to have a really good heart, so she must be safe in God," is the thought.

But, don't you see what's wrong with that?! What's so sadly, scarily wrong with that? First and foremost, the notion that any of us is a "good" person is just ludicrous. When you don't have a standard for "goodness" that is external to you-- when you get to be the judge of your own character-- your esteem of yourself is bound to fluctuate with any given mood. But that's for another blog entirely (one I will most assuredly write).

Mainly what bothers me about this mindset is that when our focus is on being nice and good and kind -- or whatever other thing the world values at the moment -- we miss out on a crucial element of our salvation, our very relationship with Christ: repentance.

Repentance isn't the act of berating ourselves, nor does it require embracing shame. Repentance is simply and beautifully the act of acknowledging where we fall short of our calling. It's humbly assuming the right posture before our God. And what a fundamental part of the Christian life that is! When we don't engage in this process, we rob ourselves of the utter relief and astonished joy we feel when we receive God's forgiveness. What a startlingly gracious gift. When we don't repent, we find ourselves slathered in cheap grace instead of basking in the real thing.

I don't know about you, but I can't remember the last time I truly repented of anything to the Lord, or anyone for that matter. Instead, I go about the cycle of falling short again and again because I HAVEN'T been transformed by true grace.

I'm just so dog tired, so bone weary of all of that.

It's not enough for me anymore. It's NOT enough for me to have my outward appearance put together-- to hide behind the diplomas and handshakes and pats on the back, the nods of approval and invitations to parties, or any of that. It's not enough for me to build a reputation as being a "nice" or a "good" person. More importantly, it's not okay for me to preach that false gospel to other people. The only way to know the fullness of my relationship with God is by assuming my true identity, and being willing to assume the right position in relation to that God. That means I have to check my motivations and ask myself the hard questions. Why am I doing this? Saying this? Making these friends and maintaining these relationships? Is it for the Kingdom of God, or is it give glory to myself? And it requires true self-examination, and being willing to admit that I'm not above apologies, not without needing transformation.

Maybe then I won't yearn so much for the approval of other people. Maybe then I won't be plagued by guilt, since I'll have received true pardon.

See, I told you I was rocked.