This Whirlow reflection chips away at centuries of dirt that weigh down the word ‘repent’, inviting us to gently assist people (including ourselves) who hear the call to change our thoughts and behaviour - and become vulnerable as a result.
What do you think of when you hear the word ‘repent’?
~
Jesus’ statement, quoted in the Gospel according to Mark, Chapter 1 - “repent and believe the good news” - is a starting point for religious faith in Christ. But what ‘repentance’ means is important … and the word has been misused and even abused.
For some, it conjures up images of fervent Bible preachers, challenging or condemning congregations to confront their personal sin. Traditionally, stretching back to the Reformation, the word has been wrapped up in a package that includes the fires and flames of judgement.
Take another moment to consider what emotions and thoughts arise as you think about the word ‘Repent!’ Do you have any memories of hearing it said? Does it feel encouraging, condemnatory - or something else?
~
In Ancient Greek, the word for ‘repent’ as used in Mark 1 is metanoia. That is, a total change in direction - something that results in someone changing their heart and mind. Repentance was dramatic but did not indicate the person was at fault and ‘should’ change - rather that they had an opportunity to have a new perspective. To turn round. To be re-born.
A famous story of repentance is told in one of today’s recommended Scriptures. Find it here.
Saul was a passionate persecutor of followers of ‘The Way’, the early church that embraced Jesus’ teaching. He had an official remit to travel to the city of Damascus, round up the Christians and put an end to their opposition to the Judaism he espoused. His convictions are so strong, he would kill them; the first time we meet Saul, he is watching with approval while Stephen is stoned to death for speaking about Jesus.
En route, Saul has an unexpected encounter. A supernatural encounter, according to the New Testament. There is an other-worldly light, a voice that stuns its hearers. Inexplicably, Saul finds himself completely blind after being instructed by this voice to continue his journey.
It’s a startling moment. A miracle.
For the whole of his life before this point, Saul thought he could see. He thought he knew what his God wanted. He was sufficient. But in this story, the reality of his spiritual blindness is exposed. As he becomes dis-abled, limited, helpless, so he can see, spiritually.
He does not eat or drink for three days, continuing his journey blind, spending time in prayer.
Someone is invited to help him adjust to new eyes, a new life. Ananias, follower of The Way, visits and something like scales falls from Saul’s eyes. Daunted, Ananias nonetheless humbly tends to Saul while the new life emerges. It must have been an intimate and vulnerable encounter for each of them.
The wisdom of midwives is often undervalued. Have you had experiences, either actually in labour or at other times, when you became vulnerable as a result of radical changes taking place? Did anyone come and wait with you, acting in your service?
~
After this, Saul is quite literally reborn. He undergoes the ritual of baptism in Christ and begins preaching in synagogues about him.
He had harboured murderous intentions; now he joins those he hated. A true repentance process - and unrelated to persuasion or coercion. The dramatic change compliments the impact Saul - renamed Paul - went on to have on what would later become Christianity.
We only know what we know. We can never know what we don’t. Like new life, ‘seeing’ what had been hidden is a miracle.
Saul was a privileged and powerful man - more likely than most, perhaps, to believe his way was the right way. We all absorb beliefs, opinions, perspectives and traditions based on our culture, our experiences and our biases. It is a good spiritual practice to offer ourselves up and invite change.
If we do change perspective, we will feel vulnerable. We are likely to need people by our side who have some insight into the process and its impact.
~
Consider Saul’s dramatic change of heart. What might be an equivalent change, for you?
If you became intensely vulnerable, embarrassed perhaps by needing to repent of the past, who would you invite alongside?
In what ways can you be with those disrupted by new life and insight?