I was sorely tempted, with Parliamentary precedent now in place, to show up this morning and ask for a “prorogation” of worship until the New Year. I didn’t know the meaning of the word until last week!

Unfortunately, John the Baptist is not as accommodating as our Governor-General. Once again, he jumps off the pages of Scripture this second Sunday of Advent. Everybody, take cover! With grasshopper juice dripping from his beard, blackened teeth, bad breath, and eyes of fire – he’s in our face, and he’s not the kind of guy you necessarily want in your face. His message is repentance and who needs that on a Sunday morning!

He is portrayed by the gospel writers as the human embodiment of the Voice in Isaiah’s prophecy: “A voice cries out: ‘In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God’” (Isaiah 40:3). The Jews were in exile in Babylonia, their beloved Jerusalem having been sacked. But Cyrus of Persia and his armies would come to defeat Babylonia and the Jews would be allowed to return home. The Persian army was perceived to be the strong arm of God, forgiving and liberating Israel from their past sins. Cyrus was the “arm” of God who “rules with might” (40:10). Flatten the mountains, lift up the valleys, make the way passable so that the great Persian army could come and do the work of God.

Fast-forward six hundred years. John the Baptist plays the role of the entire Persian army. But he’s armed only with a baptism of repentance. Beside his wild appearance and bad breath, this is why we don’t want him in our face. Sometimes I think we might rather face the Persian army than repent. But this is the roadwork of Advent, the highway in the wilderness of our soul that leads to Christ, according to the gospel writers. Walter Bruggemann, the Old Testament scholar and author, once compared John the Baptist to a border guard at “check-point Charlie” – the name given by the Allies to the crossing point between East and West Berlin when the Iron Curtain was still in place. The guards at this checkpoint were feared. For many East Berlin citizens, they were all that stood between them and freedom. Bruggemann’s point was that to get to freedom of Christ you had to go through “Check-Point John”. Your passport is repentance.

It made me seriously consider the drama that unfolded over the past week in Ottawa to be honest. Do you think it would have made any difference if John the Baptist got in our Prime Minister’s face? What if Mr. Harper had come out and said something like: “You know, I realize a made a mistake with that announcement about cutting off the public funding for political parties, and prohibiting public servants from striking. I can see that it could be interpreted as petty and mean-spirited. I intend to take an honest look at my motivations. I apologize and want to assure the opposition that I recognize their role in the governance of our nation.” Mountains lowered, valleys lifted up, a highway through the wilderness of a minority government. Ah, but repentance is based on humility – on the possibility that I could have made a mistake. There’s the rub.

My hope is naïve. It is naïve for a very particular reason. There is no shared culture of repentance in Parliament. Such a statement would be interpreted as a sign of weakness and undoubtedly used as rationale in support of a non-confidence vote. So, once a politician makes a mistake, he or she is pretty much “hooped” – damned if she repents and damned if he doesn’t – left to defend, attack, strategize, and create elaborate marketing campaigns to get the public on side. Christmas in Canada. 

Critics say that it’s just not in Mr. Harper’s nature. He may indeed have an advanced case of “ain’t no flies on me” syndrome. But honestly, who here finds this path of repentance easy? It’s such an old-fashioned religious word isn’t it? Repent! Images of white-haired, fire-breathing preachers warning of eternal damnation dance in our head. Let’s see if we can’t rescue repentance from the dustbin of traditional religious jargon.

It may be that one of the church’s distinctive roles in society is to foster cultures of repentance. Let me say first what I do not mean by the phrase “culture of repentance”. I do not mean that we return to a theology of original sin, and make confession of our stained humanity the centerpiece of our worship life together. I do not mean that we spend unreasonable amounts of time imagining things to feel bad about. When I first became a Christian I did exactly this, and the best that I could come up with is that I stole some cutlery from the restaurant where I was a waiter when I was 18. By “fostering cultures of repentance” I do not mean that we preach that Jesus’ death was necessary in order to deal with our sinful natures. God forbid.

The word that is translated into English as “repentance” is the Greek word “metanoia” – which means a radical change of mind and heart. For the church to foster a culture of repentance simply means that we believe that changing our minds and hearts to more closely reflect the image of God within, is natural. We believe that God allows U-turns as one of our signs put it. We understand that this is part of the process of our spiritual growth.

Now, here’s the second step to rescuing repentance as a legitimate spiritual discipline: let’s set repentance within an evolutionary framework. A culture of repentance simply means that this capacity to change our heart and mind is what fuels conscious evolution. God is not finished with us yet. We’re growing in God. Mistakes and missteps are inevitable. But mistakes don’t reveal our inherently sinful nature. Mistakes and missteps simply point out the areas in our life that offer the most potential for spiritual growth and development. How else would we know the direction we need to grow in if we didn’t put our foot in our mouth every once in awhile, or get caught in a white lie, blow up at our partner for no good reason, or have that mean-streak in us pointed out? 

Looked at through an evolutionary lens repentance is a highly evolved behavior. I watched a documentary in which a male grizzly attacked and ate a grizzly cub. The male adult didn’t spend a millisecond feeling guilty about his behavior. The capacity to feel badly, ask forgiveness, and change our behavior is an astonishing evolutionary accomplishment. We should take advantage of it more often. It’s an adaptation – born of Spirit’s prompting – that helps us to evolve, personally, interpersonally, and collectively.

I have a question for you. Is acknowledging our mistakes and shortcomings particularly difficult for men? Or does this apply equally to both genders? Where did we get the message, as men, that we can’t be wrong? How did we come to associate making mistakes with being inadequate as a human being? Men hate feeling inadequate. Or is it just me? Why are we so quick to defend ourselves, rather than perhaps assuming an attitude of curiosity about our need to defend ourselves? What’s at stake? Do I really think that I cannot survive being wrong and having to change my mind and more importantly my heart? Is my ego really so fragile? What’s the source of this belief in my fragility? It’s sobering to think about the possibility that most wars, genocides, and historical atrocities have been the result of men who would rather fight than repent.
 

There’s a lot at stake here in this conversation about repentance.

Repentance simply means that we’re willing to use our shortcomings as a means to evolve spiritually, relationally, and collectively as a society. It’s not rocket science. When you hurt somebody with words or actions, say you’re sorry. Do what you can to make amends. And then get over it and get on with it. Get on with what? Your spiritual evolution. Because this is what God cares about ultimately cares about.

Unless you are a psychopath or a sociopath, getting it wrong is understood primarily as important information for your spiritual evolution. A long time ago, I learned that I don’t like conflict and my avoidance ended up hurting more people than directly confronting the issues. I learned that I didn’t know how to ask for help. I didn’t even think about asking for help. That ended up making the people I was closest to feel useless. I learned that I tend to make judgments about people and interpret their behavior instead of actually checking it out with them. That hurts people. This doesn’t make me a bad person. It makes me a foolish person, a person who needed this information in order to smarten up and become the person God wants me to become.

Of course, some people have the opposite problem. They blame the suffering of the world on themselves alone. If you’ve spent years groveling over what a bad person you are, and find yourself continually asking forgiveness, that’s got nothing to do with being Christian. It’s being neurotic. It’s just being stuck in masochistic thought patterns; it’s the opposite of changing your mind or your heart. This neurosis is often confused with humility. But saying you’re sorry is only one-half of the repentance equation – an important half mind you. The other half of repentance involves allowing a new heart and a new mind – the heart and mind of Christ – to emerge. If this is your issue, when JB gets in your face, consider the possibility that he’s inviting you to get over yourself and get on with it.

Up to this point, I’ve been talking about repentance primarily in the context of  interpersonal relationships. But I want to end by looking at repentance in relation to God or Spirit. I’ve been softening you up. Because, when it comes to God, old religious beliefs hi-jack us faster than you can say, “I’m unworthy”. But I want to apply everything I’ve said about repentance in the interpersonal realm to repentance as it relates to God. God is not Santa Claus, making a list and checking it twice, constantly measuring whether we’re naughty or nice. The reason that I don’t do a prayer of confession every Sunday, which you’ll find at most United Churches, is because it reinforces this notion of God as Cosmic Judge – whose primary job is to keep a record of our behavior. We do something wrong, tell God we’re sorry, get forgiven and we’ve dodged a bullet – for the time being anyway. Over time this acquires the taste of empty ritual with a good dollop of superstition on top.  This ritual can become an end in itself, keeping us on the hamster wheel of fear. But God’s purpose is to help us evolve, not play this game with us.

Here’s a way to think about God that might help. Think about God as the Source, the Dynamism, and the Goal of the evolutionary journey. What God wants is for all of creation, including human beings, to shine as fully as possible with divine light and glory. When we discover thoughts, attitudes, and behaviors that are hiding that radiance and hurting ourselves and others in the process, bring them into the full light of consciousness, take a look at them, come to understand their role in your life – and let them go. Change your heart and your mind. Change your attitude and your behavior. That is God at work. That whole process of bringing into the light what was in the darkness is the evolutionary Spirit guiding you into the fullness and the freedom of your divine birthright. God is within the process of our evolutionary growth in Spirit, not outside of it rewarding us for good behavior and punishing us for bad behavior. 

Here’s the practice of repentance in a nutshell:

1. Notice the thoughts, attitude, and behaviors that are hiding your full radiance, and hurting yourself and others in the process.
2. Bring these to the light of consciousness and make a sincere intention to change.
3. Make amends if possible.
4. Thank God for being the sacred and secret presence guiding the whole evolutionary process of growth.
5. Start anew with a new mind and a new heart.

And don’t worry, John the Baptist will be coming around again next year at this time to remind you in no uncertain terms that God is not finished with you yet!