Growing up in the church, I remember one of my Sunday school teachers demonstrating the word repentance by walking across the room, stopping abruptly, and turning around to walk back in the other direction. In my young mind, I figured that repentance was something that happened when you first believed in Jesus, and after that, you just better be good. Or else. I was a young adult before I understood that repentance was both that initial turning away from sin and self when we come to faith in Christ and an everyday act of obedience in the Christian life. Repentance is something we do when the Lord makes us aware of our sin, or a new area of sin, or an old area we’ve hoped He would ignore. Repentance requires that noticeable turning that my Sunday school teacher acted out. When the Lord roots out sin in our lives, our response should be to take whatever means necessary to turn away from that which could destroy us. Sometimes those means could be drastic.
My pastors have been preaching through the book of Ezra for the last couple of months, and on Sunday, my husband wrapped up the series by explaining what true repentance looks like. It was a powerful sermon and one I needed to hear because I often list my sins before the Lord with an “all grace abounds to me” kind of attitude. I mean, all grace does abound to me. In Christ, I need not fear eternal retribution for my sins because Jesus took all of that at the cross for me. But repentance, true repentance, doesn’t cast a nonchalant eye towards sin. True repentance grieves with godly sorrow, knowing that sin cost Jesus His life. True repentance acknowledges that every little angry outburst, every jealous thought, every gossipy conversation is an offense against our holy God. True repentance turns away from such behavior again and again with the help of the Holy Spirit. When we are honest about our sins before the Lord, when we feel the weight of our offenses, when we realize that we bring nothing to the cross but our empty hands and our record of debt, we can then see with grateful hearts that God has canceled that record of debt against us by nailing it to the cross (see Col. 2). That’s “crazy grace,” to quote one of my pastors.
At the end of his sermon, my husband pointed us to the hope that awaits us with Christ in heaven where there will be no need of repentance ever again. In a quick rush, all the things I’ve battled with most of my life flitted through my mind: anger, pride, selfishness, laziness, fear, and all the things I can’t even remember but which God is rooting out of my life. How many times have I prayed, “Lord, help me turn away and never go back to this”? Every morning I watch the sunrise with my Bible in my lap and confess the ways I have run to the things I should hate. Every morning, the Lord hears, the Lord corrects, the Lord forgives, and the Lord helps me to face the right direction again. Facing Him. I cannot even imagine an existence where repentance isn’t necessary. But that reality waits for us. And I needed to be reminded of its realness during the sermon on Sunday. Tears welled in my eyes, much as they are doing now as I write these words, and my six-year-old son looked up at me with big brown eyes. “Mommy, are you crying?” I nodded. He catches me all the time crying during the sermons, and it’s hard to explain to a child (though I try) that the grace of the Lord is just too much to take in sometimes, so it leaks out of your eyes and down your cheeks and waters your heart with thankfulness that has been missing all week long while you wrestle with sin and discontentment and the pull of the world. But when you sit in the pews with your brothers and sisters and lean in to the words proclaimed from the Word, the weight lifts and grace looks crazy and undeserved in light of your sin before a holy God who stooped low to make a way for us to be loved and to belong and to be made new.
That’s how grace abounds to us. Not in a ho-hum “I’m forgiven” attitude towards God, but in a realization that though my sins are many and grievous, His mercy is more, more, more.
As you reflect on the cross and the empty tomb this week, picture your Savior nailed to the wooden beams and picture the record of your sins—every sin—nailed there with Him. Picture the cancellation of your debt. Paid in full. Grace abounds to you because of Christ. Keep repenting. Keep turning your face back to Him. One day, we’ll have no need of repentance ever again because we will finally be unable to sin. We will know a perfect, repentance-less existence in the presence of God forever. One day, we will repent no more.
I cannot even imagine an existence where repentance isn’t necessary. But that reality waits for us. One day we will repent no more. Share on X
Photo by 愚木混株 cdd20 on Unsplash
It was quite appropriate that we sang “His Mercy is More” on Sunday, and I want to give credit to the authors, Matt Boswell and Matt Papa, for the way the themes of this song have influenced my writing.
Glenna Marshall is married to her pastor, William, and lives in rural Southeast Missouri where she tries and fails to keep up with her two energetic sons. She is the author of The Promise is His Presence (P&R) and Everyday Faithfulness (Crossway), and Memorizing Scripture (Moody). Connect with her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.