Repentance

This post is by Rev. Mark Zier, Pastor at Aldersgate UMC

It seems that one of the constants of Christian preaching throughout the centuries has been the admonition to “flee the wrath that is to come!” Years ago I was asked to “perform” Jonathan Edwards’ sermon, “Sinners in the Hand of an Angry God”. It is an unrelenting diatribe against the presumption of the wicked that they might somehow avoid the eternal pains of hell. Wikipedia notes that it was “preached to his own congregation in Northampton to unknown effect.” About 30 minutes into my delivery, I really got into it: shouting, pounding the pulpit, etc. I can tell you its effect on me was exhausting (it took the better part of an hour to deliver the whole thing). But as I reflected on the text, I couldn’t help but think that Edwards had resorted to this exaggerated, vivid imagery out of desperation, knowing that no one was really listening. Perhaps the image of an angry God, ready to whack anyone who steps over the line, is more the product of a whole succession of frustrated preachers than the gospel of the God of love.

A group of us from San Rafael First and Aldersgate have been reading Brian McClaren’s recent book, Naked Spirituality, as part of our Lenten journey together. The book is an attempt to show the way to a deeper relationship with God, stripped of all the pretensions and assumptions that we have about ourselves and about God. I heartily recommend it. McClaren’s starting point is a God that is utterly and faithfully in love with each one of us. As with any loving partner, God might not always be happy with us or what we’ve done; but God never gives up on us. From this perspective, repentance isn’t so much a turning to God out of fear of what might happen to us if we don’t, sackcloth and ashes and all that; but rather more like making up with our lover after a spat, with an offering of flowers and candy. It’s reconciliation. It’s the first step to new life.

God, I can barely get my head around how much you love me. And I love you, too. I’m grateful for all that you’ve done for me and the meaning you’ve given to my life, and I’m thrilled by the prospect of what you want for the whole world. But I know I’ve disappointed you, probably more often than I’d care to admit. I’m sorry. I’m coming to you now, Lord, with tokens of my love for you. Can we get back together to share again the intimacy we’ve had in the past? Thank you, God.