Roadblocks to Repentance, Part II--Strategy: U-Turn, Not Detour

Roadblocks to God’s Mercy

To correct a wrong turn when driving, it is not enough to stop or park. A U-turn is required to get back on the right road. Turning away from sin while turning back to God became a theological by-word among the early Greek Fathers of the Church; it was called metanoia; it means a transformative change of heart; especially a spiritual conversion. It derives from the Greek word, metanoiein –“to change one’s thinking or intent.” Paul catches the full meaning of the word in Romans 12:2: “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is.” Notice the two aspects of the same process—a “spiritual U-turn”—a turning away from worldly sin and turning towards God’s will.

The two directions are simply aspects of the same reversal—a turning away from sin and turning to God: The two cannot be separated; they are simply complementary parts of the same process—a reversal of movement and intent. However, the “turning away” is the prerequisite for attaining righteousness--one’s “justification” (Rom 5:18), while the “turning toward” is the prerequisite for one’s “sanctification.” (1 Thes. 4:3). Freedom from sin must precede the inflow of grace, by which we “participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world” (2 Pet. 1:4).

The most meaningful part of this “conversion experience” is the Lord’s tender loving reaction to the sinner’s repentance and the love with which he responds: “Return to me, declares the Lord Almighty, and I will return to you” (Zech 1:3; Mal. 3:7) “The Lord your God is gracious and compassionate. He will not turn his face from you if you return to him “(2 Chron. 30:9). “Now reform your ways and your actions and obey the Lord your God. Then the Lord will relent and not bring the disaster he has pronounced against you” (Jer. 26:13).

The upshot of this simple act of repentance, for those who engage in that action of metanoia, not just “mechanically” or superficially, but earnestly and with deep awareness of God’s overwhelming beneficence, is an awesome experience of the first three fruits of the Spirit—love , joy and peace (Gal. 5:22).

 Somewhat poetically God describes, through Isaiah, the totality of sin remission: “I have swept away your transgressions like a cloud, and your sins like mist” (Is. 44:22). Notice, however, in that same passage that he requires of us that we undergo a metanoia—a repentance that entails a total conversion of heart: “Return to me, for I have redeemed you.” Total forgiveness requires total repentance. It is only when our contrition extends to all of our recalled and even unrecalled offenses that he assures us that He “forgets” all of those failures, as Scripture reminds us repeatedly.

Consider the words of the Lord through the prophet Ezekiel (18: 21-22), with special emphasis on the initial word, “If”: “If the wicked turn away from all their sins that they have committed and keep all my statutes and do what is lawful and right, they shall surely live; they shall not die. None of the transgressions that they have committed shall be remembered against them.”

The “condition of contrition” is spelled out with more detail in another passage (33:15-16): “If the wicked restore the pledge, give back what they have taken by robbery, and walk in the statutes of life, committing no iniquity—they shall surely live…None of the sins that they have committed shall be remembered against them.” This implies an intention not to backslide into sin. Thus, one major roadblock to God’s mercy is the lack of a “firm purpose of amendment,” to use a catechetical term.

But, it may be asked, if “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Rom 3:23), and no one expects to remain sinless for the rest of their life, how can anyone have authentic repentance? The hypocrite can rationalize his or her continuance in sin by ignoring the real answer to that query. A surgically incisive response to such hypocrisy might be the clever dictum of the 19^th century writer, John Watson, “Mercy is not for those that sin and fear not, but for those that fear and sin not.”

But the full theological answer is, of course, that the awareness of our weakness and of probable future failure is an act of the intellect. The act of the will, by intent, is what matters morally. With the will we must sincerely intend never to sin again, even though we know with our intellect that future failures, though presently unintended, may occur.

Perverted minds may try to twist the meaning of that theological statement, but the words of the traditional prayer called the “Act of Contrition” state the truth uncompromisingly: “I firmly resolve, with the help of your grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasions of sin.” That’s called a “firm purpose of amendment”; it is the authenticating feature of true repentance, and the key that opens the floodgates of God’s mercy on us.

Such resistance to repentance is one abuse, but there is another and more subtle roadblock to being open to God’s mercy. It is exemplified by pious people who have no deep awareness of their impoverished spiritual state—who feel that they have “no sins to confess”; they can’t understand why Pope Francis avails himself of sacramental confession every two weeks, and some of the holiest of saints even more often.

 The “nothing-to-confess” folks never think of  confessing many peccadilloes, such as lack of perfect conformity to God’s will, lovingly accepting hardships, pain, etc.,  or the failure to embrace generously and joyfully all physical, emotional and spiritual suffering; they never think of confessing the neglect of biblical injunctions, such as rejoicing in insults and persecution (Mat. 5: 12), or failure to obey Jesus’ command to actually love one’s enemies—not just refrain from hating them—or Jesus’ command to lend without expecting repayment, or not to demand return of stolen goods (Luke 6: 30-34),  etc. They overlook—and hence never repent of—hundreds of daily faults that they can’t even recognize as failings. They seem to believe in their ability to do the impossible, simplistically claiming for themselves the cynical statement of Voltaire: “the safest course is to do nothing against one's conscience. Thus we can enjoy life and have no fear of death”—a position that disregards the need for sensitizing one’s conscience (“fear of the Lord”—a gift of the Spirit—Is. 11:3). 

The spiritual arrogance (or, in some cases, the lack of deep insight or self-perception) of such individuals, who claim that they can think of few or no sins they have committed, are persons who need a deep outpouring of the gift of the Holy Spirit called the gift of Fear of the Lord, a “dread” of offending the majesty of the Deity. “Those who fear the Lord prepare their hearts, and humble themselves before him” (Sirach. 2:17).

Often misunderstood, “fear of the Lord” is not the fear of God’s punishment (imperfect contrition), but rather a deep sensitivity of conscience that reflects exquisite reverence for the majesty of God while “fearing” that we might even slightly offend him by any act of our sin-prone human nature. Conversion requires convincing of sin by the Holy Spirit’s enlightening our conscience (see John 16:8); Thus, as St. John writes: “If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us” (1 John 1:8-10). (Think about that last sentence: If, by denying that we have any sin, we “make God a liar,” that is itself a sin!)

No one can recall all  the sins of one’s life, so how can all of our sins be confessed or repented of? The Council of Trent answered that question in the 16^th century, in dealing with sacramental confession. It states that, by confessing all the sins that one can honestly remember, a penitent implicitly places all of his sins before the divine mercy for pardon. But to deliberately withhold any sin would be to present nothing to God for his forgiveness. It would show a lack of total sincerity in repentance and a rejection of the fullest outpouring of God’s mercy, which urges us to “be earnest, therefore, and repent” (Rev. 3:19). If one is too ashamed to show his wound to the doctor, it can’t be healed. A surgeon can heal only exposed infected areas.

A housewife who bakes a cake but forgets to mix in the eggs may produce a somewhat edible dessert, but certainly not a really delicious one. Likewise, a person who sincerely decides to turn away from sin and sinful habits might be make a good initial start to a spiritual rehabilitation, but something may be missing to complete the recipe to make it fully appreciated, namely the completion of the metanoia by not just turning away from sin, but also a turning to the Lord. That is why a real “change of heart” is not just a turning off the hell-bound road, but a complete turn-around on that road. Your road of life may be fine, but make sure you’re going the right direction on that road. Recognized sin requires not just a turn, but a U-turn—a direct reversal of direction.

To restate that principle in a rather whimsical fashion—from an unexpected source, Oprah Winfrey—“Failure is God’s way of saying, “Excuse me, you’re moving in the wrong direction.”

Think of the decision as threefold, not twofold. It’s not just a matter of choosing between sin and non-sin, but also a matter of seeking the Lord as the be-all and end-all of one’s very existence. In a ladder scale, the choices would be: sin (negative), non-sin (neutral) and virtue (positive). To stop at the second rung of the ladder, non-sin, would not be a complete metanoia. It would be radical justification, but not complete justification, which entails sanctification.

In the simplest terms, turning from sin is a counterfeit form of repentance if it does not include the intention of turning to God, as Tertullian shows in his third-century analysis of the metanoia experience. Like “the emperor’s clothes,” a garment is missing. It can be found in Paul’s haberdashery: “Clothe yourselves with the new self, created according to the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness” (Eph. 4:24)—i.e., seek to be both justified and sanctified, that is, both sin-free and grace-filled.

The plaint of the Lord, “My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge” (Hosea 4:6) is a clarion call for all who seek true repentance. The lesson to be learned is simple: Resolve to be sin-free by sincere repentance, but also holy by your loving surrender to the welcoming and endearing embrace of the Lord’s gracious mercy.    

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