The nature of having faith with penitence

On the abuses of penitent traditions and where the true nature of faithful penitence lies

Photo by Zach Lucero on Unsplash

Lent is the part of the church year when we follow along on Jesus’ journey to the cross. It is the time of year when we focus on Christ's passion and ultimate death. It is a time of year that we become more sensitive to our sinful condition and the Gospel remedy for our dire predicament.

However, Lent, more often than not, becomes heavily misunderstood due to traditions (and the abuse thereof) as well as the total and utter confusion about what “penitence” truly is in the life of a Christian. It can be easy for us even to fall into the temptation of using Lent as a way to justify ourselves in the eyes of the world and God through our most pious devotion to traditions such as fasting, praying and abstaining from sin and worldly pleasures. So, we, too, should be conscious of how we fall into abusing practices meant to direct our desires more towards Christ.

Lent should be humbling. We should be in the deepest shame and humility as we watch the sinless Son of God suffer the scourge of condemnation that should have been on us. Yet, humanity finds ways to turn even the clearest of water into a murky mess. Through adiaphoric practices (which on the very face are abused when treated as though they really were mandated), fasting is heaved onto the masses, especially in certain denominations which regard the practice with far too much reverence.

Yet, humanity also decides to indulge to the greatest extent before fasting. Since this is so often the case, especially preceding Lent, it would be best that the practice not be observed altogether because of such abuse. When we plan on fasting, we should not be set on indulging the day before. The practice is to make us desire God above all things by placing our other desires aside. What good is doing this if we live as if we do not have the Spirit of God within us the very day prior to beginning our fast? We might as well be impudent beasts who do not have the blessed forgiveness of sins at all.

Then, as if to make it all the worse, we pray like the Pharisee rather than the humble tax collector. We decide to show God that we have set aside a certain list of things in our life. We act as if this warrants that he ought to justify us for being such saints. Yet, we lose the great gift of prayer in this, while instead of asking for forgiveness, we push the cross out of sight and demand that God prop us up. We blind ourselves to the filthy rags which we wear and shake them in front of God as if they were the finest of cloths that the world could offer.

Yet, the true spirit of penitence cries out to God: “Out of the depths I cry to Thee; Lord hear me I implore Thee! Thy gracious ear incline to me; my prayer let come before Thee. On my misdeeds in mercy look, o deign to blot them from Thy book, or who can stand before Thee?” (ELH 452 st. 1). Our condition is what disposed us from God’s presence, yet our Savior beckons us to feel His hands and side, which were pierced so that we no longer need to bear eternal condemnation to reckon with our sins. It is not what these hands have done or will ever do that could carry this burden or restore our relationship with the Holy One. Only what Jesus did can save our weak and wandering souls.

Our penitence should not, in nature, be a “turning away from sin,” for we are too weak on our own to combat the wiles of our sinful flesh and the evil foe. Yet, our penitence is the sorrow over sins, combined with the hand of faith that accepts God’s most sure forgiveness. Lent should not be about us, but about what God does for us, which we could not do on our own. Thanks be to God for his enduring mercy.