Time for a
Change
Matthew 4:12-2
by Dr. David Rogne
Every year on
Good Friday, the role of Christ bearing his cross to Calvary
is reenacted in the village of
Sartene,
Corsica. This has been going on ever
since the Middle Ages, and it always draws a big crowd of villagers and
thousands of tourists who come for the occasion. Several years ago Newsweek
magazine reported on what it called one of the world's most brutally
powerful Easter Week processions. They wrote: "A grotesque lump of a man .
. . . barefoot, masked in a blood-red hood with eye-slits . . . . staggered
under the weight of a massive oak cross. From his right ankle dragged a
clanking, thirty-one-pound chain . . . . (He) grunted and puffed as he bore
the cross along a mile-and-a-half route . . . . As he stumbled along dirt
paths and darkened, cobbled streets, his bare feet began to bleed. Three
times he fell under his burden, and each time a fellow penitent, playing the
part of Simon of Cyrene, whispered fiercely: 'Get up! You asked for this!'
"The hooded
figure was that of a conscience-stricken French sinner whose identity was
known only to the local priest. From wherever he had come, the man was
there voluntarily to atone for his sins by enacting the role of Christ
making his way to Calvary. So popular is the part that it is booked solid
for the next forty years by applicants from as far away as Madagascar. The
list includes gamblers, adulterers, ex-convicts . . . . all seeking peace of
mind."
This event
serves to illustrate what we already know, that many people carry around an
enormous sense of guilt, and some are willing to go to great lengths to
atone for it. In the early days of the Christian church, the admission of
wrong-doing as a start toward doing better was stressed a great deal. The
person who wanted to make amends for his sins was often given something to
do as a penance. For example, a penitent might be required to spend forty
hours in prayer or to fast for three days in absolute silence. It was
difficult for people to do these things in their normal surroundings.
Therefore, many churches set aside a room for the purpose and called it a
penitentiary. After many centuries, this term came to be used for a place
to put law-breakers. As a consequence, penance is often equated with
punishment.
The message of
Jesus was more positive than that. At the opening of his ministry he
announced that it would be his mission to bring good news of God's love, not
bad news of God's punishment. He did not discount the destructive nature of
sin and guilt, but he sought to focus on the corrective. According to
Matthew, when Jesus began to preach, his first word was "Repent." It is
that word I would like us to look at today, for it is so often associated
with the idea of sorrow and self-reproach that it loses its healing
possibilities and only deepens our feelings of guilt.
The first thing
I want to say about repentance is that it requires us to acknowledge our
involvement in the human predicament. Most of us are willing to admit that
the world is a sinful place inhabited by sinful people. But, somehow, the
sinfulness of others keeps us from acknowledging our own faults. When David
was king of Israel, he looked upon another man's wife, he desired her, he
took her, there was a pregnancy, and he had the woman's husband killed to
cover the act. He was attempting to cover up, and each act only made things
worse. There was a rottenness in the nation from the top down. Nathan, the
prophet, came to the king and told him a story about a rich man who had
taken his servant's only lamb, when the rich man had plenty of his own.
David became enraged and insisted on knowing who the culprit was, because he
deserved to be put to death. "You are the man," said the prophet, and the
rottenness which preferred the cover of darkness, was exposed to the light
of day. David judged himself, confessed his fault, and the wound began to
heal.
How much more
open to healing we are when we recognize that we are included in the
problems that afflict our race. A man wrote a letter to a close friend,
telling him how things were going in the writer's town: "With all the major
crises blighting our world and the minor crises and joys of raising five
children, we are on a perpetual emotional roller coaster. My next-door
neighbor kicked her teenage daughter out, and they later found her
unconscious on the street from a drug overdose. Another neighbor, who is
the mother of four, has had a mental breakdown. A friendly couple down the
street, it turns out, are alcoholics. A man farther down the street was
arrested for child molestation, and the man living on the opposite corner,
deemed by everyone as the epitome of success, was picked up for embezzlement
to cover bad gambling debts." Sad as the letter was, the writer did not
exempt himself from all that difficulty. He concluded by saying, "What we
all need here is to hear and to know God's promise of forgiveness,
forgiveness, forgiveness, because we are all in the same boat."
Confession is
one way we express our repentance. James Neal, the government's chief
prosecutor during the Watergate affair, commented on the spate of books
written about the affair by the principals involved. He said that the books
were remarkable in their absence of any tone of repentance or remorse. In
summation of the books he had read, he said: "Everybody blames someone else
. . . . They all suffered, but no one repented." Repentance involves
saying, "I'm sorry." And from that initial admission of wrong-doing, the
climb to wholeness and right relationship with God begins. The Biblical
call to confession is not directed only to crooks and arch sinners; it is
directed to all of us, for the Bible reminds us that all have sinned and
fallen short of the glory of God. This does not mean that we have to see
ourselves as the worst people who ever lived, nor even refer to ourselves as
miserable worms, as some of our older hymns suggest. After all, we are made
in the image of God. The image is flawed, but we are beloved children of
God nevertheless. That is our greatness and our tragedy. Designed for a
close relationship with God, we have let other things get in the way. Those
obstacles are removed by confession, not by cover-up. Confession is our
first step.
Repentance also
calls for a change of heart. We tend to be satisfied when we have addressed
a person's actions. When I was a child in Sunday School, we used to sing a
little song:
"Little hands, be careful of the things you do;
Little feet, be careful where you take me to."
That may be all
right for children, but adults should know that there is more to it. The
trouble is not only with our hands that hit and steal; it is not only with
our feet that take us to improper places; it is not only with our mouths
that lie and say hurtful things. The trouble lies deeper, in our inmost
hearts, for the heart is the rebel that will give rise to the actions again
if there is no change inside.
In our home we
have a cuckoo clock that we picked up in Germany some years ago. For years
it kept good time, but increasingly it ran slow or fast or was unwilling to
work at all. When it was working, I would set the hands to the correct time
each morning, and it proceeded from that point to keep time as it chose. We
didn't want to get rid of it because it reminded us of a pleasant trip. But
the trouble was not really with the hands. The trouble was deep inside.
Its movement had become all gummed up with oil and dirt. What it needed was
a good cleaning inside. When that happened, it began to work dependably
again. Our lives, too, need more than just an occasional adjustment. They
need a cleansing that begins with the heart.
Confession, for
example, does not cleanse unless it comes from the heart. I grew up as the
youngest child in the family. My brother is seven years older than I, and
we were frequently at odds. When I got angry at him, I couldn't lick him,
so I called him names. If I were foolish enough to be standing close, he
could grab me and hit me or twist an arm until I would take back the name
and say I was sorry. Then, when he let me go, I would run away and call out
the name again from a safe distance. I said I was sorry, but there was no
change in the heart.
Sometimes God is
depicted as a big bully who demands that we repent and conform or he will
punish us in hell. But really, any outward conformity on our part that is
motivated by fear cannot be called true repentance. One hymn writer
understood that when he wrote:
"My God, I love thee not because I hope for heaven
thereby,
Nor yet because if I love not I shall forever die."
From the
writer's point of view, God was to be loved for himself, not for reward or
fear of punishment.
A man had a son
who was constantly getting into trouble. Still, his father gave him a home
and tried to lead him to better ways. A friend of the father said, "Why do
you put up with that no-good son of yours? If he was my son I'd throw him
out." "So would I," replied the father, "if he were your son. But he isn't
yours, he's mine. That's why I keep him, reason with him, love him--because
he's mine." So God deals with us. Not by arm-twisting or threatening us
with hell, but as a patient father. And when we come to our senses and turn
to him in repentance, it is prompted by a change of heart that has been won
by love, not subdued by threat.
The third thing
I want to say is that while a change of heart is important in repentance, so
is the change of conduct that follows from it. We do not just say we are
sorry and give no demonstration of it. Over a period of twenty years a
carpenter had been taking items home from the job every day--a box of nails,
a few feet of lumber, a can of paint, a length of wire. One day he looked
at his collection and felt guilty. He went to confession seeking
forgiveness. As he enumerated the things he had taken, the priest became
alarmed and said, "At first I was going to prescribe a few Hail Marys and a
few Our Fathers, but this is serious. For all this I think you will have to
make a Novena. You do know how to make a Novena, don't you?" "No, Father,"
the man replied, "but if you've got the plans, I know where I can get the
material." It is not enough to confess our guilt. We need to be prepared
to take some positive steps in the other direction.
Repentance
begins with the heart, but it is expressed by the direction of our life
thereafter. If we have been running away from God, repentance may call for
a full 180 degree turn around as we orient ourselves toward God. For
others, the alteration called for may be less radical, but there ought to be
some visible movement in a new direction. A college class was graduating on
a lovely, but very hot and humid day. As the graduates trooped across the
platform and received their diplomas from the college president, he very
graciously shook hands and said in a loud voice, "Congratulations." Then,
in a tone of voice that was more firm and less patient, he would say to each
graduate: "Keep moving!" That is where Jesus' call to repentance finds
us. Have you made confession with your mouth? Congratulations! But keep
moving. Has God's offer of acceptance touched your heart?
Congratulations! But keep moving. Have you started to redirect your life
down some more rewarding path? Congratulations! But keep moving.
When I last
visited the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, I noticed that there were a
number of paintings which have been X-rayed in the process of determining
authenticity. The X-ray photographs are posted next to the paintings. They
reveal that in many instances an artist has started out with one scene or
perspective, but in the course of painting he has changed his mind,
sometimes radically. The process is called pentimento, meaning that the
artist was going in one direction, but repented, or changed his mind, and
moved off in another.
That is the
essence of Jesus' message to us. In our lives we may be moving along on a
plan that eventually becomes dissatisfying, perhaps because it leaves God
out of the picture. Jesus calls us to repent, to a change of mind, a change
of heart, a change of direction. For some of us the change will be quite
radical; for others it will be modest; but for all of us it involves a
change of direction, a new way of doing things, and the stern command:
"Keep moving."