Repent and Be Sent

Matthew 4:12-23

Growing up in the evangelical church, I heard a phrase that got my attention long before I knew how to question it, or even if I was allowed to question it: “Repent or be sent.” Have you ever heard that? I heard it about the same time I heard, “Turn or burn” and “Get saved or get microwaved!”

It meant: You better get your beliefs right… or else. You better say the prayer… or else. You better accept Jesus… or be sent to hell. Repent or be sent.

And for a long time, I thought the voice of God sounded like that— menacing, threatening, terrifying. I thought the main point of Christianity was getting people to accept Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior so God would not send them to hell for all of eternity.

The good news is that I kept reading the gospels. I went to seminary where I studied the gospels and the Greek language. And I noticed something.

Jesus never said anything remotely close to: “Repent or else.”

Today, our gospel lesson reveals what Jesus actually said. And it is far more hopeful. But it is also more challenging.

Matthew tells us that Jesus announces his public ministry with these words: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

Not repent or else. Not repent to avoid eternal punishment. Not repent so we can escape a troubled world. But repent because something divine is coming to this world.

The Greek word we translate “repent” means “a change of mind” or “a change of vision.” “It’s a re-ordering of how we see the world.” It doesn’t mean “feeling sorry,” or “getting religious,” or “fixing some private flaw.” It means learning to see the entire world differently.

The Apostle Paul put it this way: “So, if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; look, new things have come into being” (2 Cor 5:17).

The call to repent is an invitation to transform how we think, act, and belong in the world.

Why? Because, “the Kingdom of Heaven” has come near.

The Greek language here means much more than “a place” or “a destination after death.” It means, “a reign,” “a rule,” or “a governing force.” Jesus is announcing an alternative political and social order, one that stands in direct contrast to Rome, to Herod, to economic exploitation, to state violence, to exclusion, to domination, and to the religious systems that bless it all.

Jesus is talking about a reign of inclusive, universal, unconditional love.

And Jesus says that we can change the way we see the world because this reign of love has come near. Not someday. Not after death. The verb Matthew uses means: “it is so close you can feel it breathing on your neck.”

Now, I can already hear the response of some of my evangelical friends: “Preacher, Jesus didn’t say, ‘the Kingdom of Love is near.’ He said ‘the Kingdom of Heaven is near.’ Aren’t you reading a bit more into this?”

Throughout the gospels, through every parable Jesus told and every action Jesus took, I believe Jesus was showing us what the Kingdom of Heaven looks like. And what did he show us? That it looks like healing for the sick, welcome for the excluded, food for the hungry, liberation for the oppressed, and justice for the persecuted. It looks like mercy, and it looks like grace. It looks like love, always love, even for our enemies. It looks like a love that is free, fierce, and unstoppable.

So, to speak of the kingdom of Heaven as “a reign of love” is not adding to Jesus’ words. It’s letting Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection interpret them. If the Kingdom of Heaven does not look like love in practice, then we are not actually talking about the kingdom Jesus proclaimed.

I believe it is notable that Jesus announces this reign of love, not in the halls of power, but in Galilee, among people terrorized by empire, taxed into poverty, and made to believe that injustice was normal.

Repentance is necessary because people have learned to accept a world organized, not around the governing power of love, but around the governing power greed that crushes the poor.

So, Jesus’ call to repent was not a stern warning. It was hopeful, good news. He was saying to the people: “Hold your heads up! Don’t despair! The words of Isaiah are being fulfilled: ‘you who sit in darkness, in the shadow of death, a light is dawning!’So, you need to change the way you see things, because love is becoming the governing force in this world!”

Later in Matthew, we are shown exactly what this governing force looks like: “When Jesus sees the crowds, he has compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” (Matthew 9:36) Others see the crowd and feel threatened. Jesus sees the crowd and feels compassion. And the word “compassion” here is visceral. Jesus sees the suffering of others and feels it in the pit of his stomach.

This is repentance embodied. To repent is to learn to see others as Jesus sees. To feel for others as Jesus feels. To refuse to be indifferent and to love as Jesus loved.

Repentance is believing that loving like Jesus has the power to change the world. Repentance means: seeing immigrants as neighbors; seeing the poor as beloved; seeing those harmed by violence as worthy of justice. It means even seeing enemies as beloved children of God. Repentance is believing no human is “illegal” or “an alien” or “garbage.”

Repentance is: welcoming the stranger; liberating the oppressed; caring for the sick; feeding the hungry; and educating children, not using them as bait to arrest their parents without due process. Repentance is honoring and protecting those who defend the defenseless, not shooting them dead.

The purpose of repentance is not to be saved from hell when we die. The purpose of repentance is to save our humanity from hellish cruelty while we are living.

Next, we read where this terrible phrase I learned as a child, “Repent or be sent” gets transformed and where it gets challenging. We learn the gospel of Jesus is not: Repent or be sent to hell. The gospel is: Repent and be sent to hell— into the hellish parts of this world as transforming agents of love. And that’s exactly what happens in Matthew 4.

Jesus says “Repent!” and then he immediately calls his disciples. Not to escape hell. But to go bravely into it. When the disciples repent, they are sent into systems of exploitation that reward greed and punish the poor. They are sent into communities disciplined by fear: fear of immigrants; fear of other religions; fear of truth. They are sent into a world that normalizes violence, sanctifies inequality, mocks compassion, terrorizes the most vulnerable, and calls it being faithful. They are sent into a world that looks an awful lot like ours.

We live in a time when choosing a career of cruelty gets you a $50,000 sign on bonus. A fascist government blatantly lies to cover up their murders of Nicole Good and Alex Pretti. Pure meanness is mistaken for strength. And empathy and mercy and compassion, the very essence of who Jesus of Nazareth was, is mocked. Diversity, equity, and inclusion are treated as threats. And love is considered weak.

But the gospel insists that love is far from weak, in fact, love is the only power that has ever changed the world for good.

Love dismantled slavery, not all at once and not without resistance, but through people who refused to accept human bondage as God’s will.

Love marched across a bridge in Selma and faced dogs, batons, and tear gas, not with weapons, but with the stubborn insistence that Black lives mattered.

Love sat in a Birmingham jail and wrote that injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.

And love is showing up today: in asylum seekers, refugees and immigrants risking everything for their children, in protesters like Alex Pretti and Nicole Good, who risk everything to protect them, in organizers who refuse to stop telling the truth, in people who keep walking the walk even when the road is long.

Love is on the move this weekend in Minnesota, as ordinary people march chant in sub-zero temperatures to peacefully protest racialized state violence, as clergy from all over the United States traveled to Minneapolis to stand in solidarity with those being dehumanized, demonized, and criminalized— one-hundred ministers arrested in the airport on Friday while singing hymns and reciting the Lord’s Prayer.

Next month, reminiscent of the march in Selma, love will be sent to walk the roads of North Carolina, from Wilson to Raleigh, in the Repairers of the Breach’s march called the “Love Forward Together.”

Not marching out of anger, at least not anger alone, but marching out of moral conviction, a deep compassion we feel in the pit of our stomachs.

Not walking to escape the world, but to declare that love, justice, and dignity belong at the center of public life.

And we will walk courageously and confidently, chanting, praying, and singing with hope in our hearts, as history keeps reminding us:

The Herods of the world die.

Empires fall.

Violence fails.

Cruelty exhausts itself.

Fear burns itself out.

ICE will melt.

And lies cannot stand forever.

But love? Love keeps moving forward.

The scripture promises: “Love never ends.” When everything else fails, love remains.

And that is why Jesus does not say, “Repent or else.” But says, “Repent and be sent.”

Sent to join the long, unfinished story of love changing the world.

Sent into a broken world not with doubt, but with assurance.

Sent into cruelty with compassion.

Sent into despair with hope.

Because the reign of God is near!

In the shadow of death, a light is dawning.

Love is breathing on our necks.

And love will have the last word.

The good news is:

Repent—and be sent.

Because love will win.

Amen.

 

Benediction

Beloved, as you return to the rest of your day
to quiet rooms or busy homes,
to news alerts or peaceful reflection,
to a world still aching for healing, and crying for justice
know this;

Empires will fall.
Violence will fail.
Cruelty will exhaust itself.
Fear will burn out.
Lies will not last.

But love will remain.

Love will keep walking.
Love will keep organizing.
Love will keep telling the truth.
Love will keep showing up.

So repent and be sent.
Sent from this moment with clearer eyes.
Sent into a hurting world with softer hearts.
Sent to love forward together,
even when the road is long
and the work feels heavy.

The reign of God is near.
It’s closer than you think,
closer than you feel.
It’s breathing right on our necks.

So, go in peace and hope.
Go in courage and power.
Go in love. Always in love.
Amen.

Holiday Party Pooper

christmas_invitationMatthew 3:1-12 NRSV

One of the greatest things about this time of year is all of the Christmas parties.

Now, generally speaking, there two kinds of guests we invite to these parties.  First, there are the people that we gladly invite.  Guests we want to invite.  Guests we look forward to inviting.   These are the people we enjoy being around.  You know, people that are fun, the folks who know how to have a good time.

Then, there are those people that we have to invite: those extended members of the family, maybe a coworker, or maybe the pastor.  We don’t really enjoy being around them, we would prefer not being around them, but we know their feelings will be hurt if we do not invite them, so because we are Christian, and because it is Christmas, we reluctantly invite them to our party.

And besides, these folks, well, they are like family.  Sometimes they are family.  Christmas parties have guests we want to invite and they have guests that we just have to invite.

My good friend and pastor Nathan Parrish has said that he is quite certain that John the Baptist would be on our “have to invite’ list.  John the Baptist is that strange character that no one really enjoys having around, especially at Christmas.  Just look at him!

He just doesn’t seem to fit into the mood of the season.  He doesn’t know how to have a good time.  Everyone remembers the way he behaved last Christmas.  While everyone else wore festive clothing, had on their red and their green, had on their Christmas sweaters with Santas and reindeer and snowmen and Christmas trees and wreaths, John the Baptist had the nerve to show up in an old camel hair robe with a worn leather belt.  John the Baptist simply doesn’t know how to dress for such gatherings.

Do you remember what happened at last year’s Christmas Dinner when someone offered him some a slice of roast pork and a warm glass of apple cider?  He said he was on this ridiculous diet. He said he only ate locusts and wild honey!  John the Baptist just doesn’t know how to enjoy himself at these functions.

And while everyone at the a party was simply trying to enjoy Christmas and each other by exchanging warm, friendly conversation, John stalked around the room shouting, “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is at hand!”  He doesn’t seem to realize that a Christmas party is no place for a sermon…especially a sermon on repentance.

So year after year, after every Christmas party, we say to ourselves that this is the last time we invite this character to our party.  For every year, no matter how hard we try, he always seems to ruin the perfect holiday season.

Oh this year, wouldn’t it be nice we could just leave John the Baptist out?  Forget him this year.  Ignore him.  Avoid him.  Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we did not have to put up with his bizarre outfit, his strange diet and his somber message?

We don’t want to invite him this year, but we have to, don’t we?

Because after all it’s Christmas and we are Christians and he, well, he is family—he’s Jesus’ family anyway.  And besides that, he belongs to the Christmas story.

His appearance in the Christmas drama was no accident.  He did not choose to be a part of salvation history.  God chose him.  His appearing was prophesied through the prophet Isaiah.  Whose words we find in the fortieth chapter: “A voice cries out: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.  Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground should become level, and the rough places a plain.  Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all the people shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”

So, even if we do not want to have John the Baptist around this Advent season, we do not have much of a choice.  After all he’s family, and he is part of the story.

But if he is part of the Christmas story, why do we find him so offensive?  Why does his weird dress, bazaar diet and somber message turn us off this time of year?  Why do we find him so embarrassing and regard him as our annual holiday party pooper?

Because, when we think about it, we realize that John the Baptist is the exact opposite of how our culture defines Christmas.  Just look at him!  Nothing about him, the way he looks the way he eats the way he talks says:  “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!”   And when we really think about it, we realize that John the Baptist is the antithesis of our beloved Santa Claus.  Just look at Santa.  Santa Claus always dresses in a very festive manner.  Santa has never been on a strict diet in his life. There is no telling how many cookies and glasses of milk he consumes on Christmas Eve.  Yes, Santa knows something about having a good time!  And Santa’s message is anything but harsh or somber.

And think of how Santa operates.  He operates and acts like all human beings operate and act.  He rewards the good, and punishes the bad.  “He’s making a list, he’s checking it twice. He’s going to find out who’s naughty or nice.  He sees you when you’re sleeping.  He knows when you’re awake.  He knows if you have been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake!”

Now, think about what John the Baptist says.  Repent.  You need to change the way you do things.  You need to change the way you see things.  You need to see the world in a brand new way. And there is one coming, John says, who is going to show us the way. And his name is Jesus.

Now, think of how Jesus operates. How does Jesus relate to the ones his culture defined as the bad?  To half-breed Samaritans?  The woman caught in the act of adultery that the religious people wanted to stone to death?  To the sinful, abusive, greedy, to the Tax collectors who he not only ate and drank with, but made them his disciples? To the woman at the well who was having an affair?  To one of the bandits who was being crucified alongside of Jesus?  Instead of punishing the bad, cursing the wicked, Jesus oftentimes blesses them.

And how does Jesus relate to the good, the religious, to the Pharisees and Sadducees?  Well, much in the same what that John the Baptist related to them.  “But when he saw many Pharisees and Sadducees coming for baptism, he said to them, ‘you brood of vipers!’”  You bunch of poisonous snakes!

Instead of blessing the good, Jesus often cursed them.  The antithesis of Santa Claus.  Valleys lifted up.  Mountains made low.  Uneven ground, level.  Rough places a plain.

Maybe this is why we have so much trouble inviting this John the Baptist to our parties.  Because he reminds of something that we do not like to be reminded of— That we don’t see the world the way God sees it.  That we, every one of us, need to repent.  We need a change of mind.  A change of heart.  We need to see the world in a completely different way.

The truth is, and all who are honest will admit it, we need John the Baptist around.  Because he, no matter how harsh and how somber and how disturbing, is the key to experiencing the hope that is Christmas, hope that we too often miss every year.

Christmas, the gift of Jesus Christ.  The gift of salvation is just that—a gift.  Christmas is all about grace.  And, when we are completely honest with our sinful selves, we realize that that is our only hope.  Because no matter what Santa teaches us, true Christmas is not deserved.

We have a lot to learn, don’t we?  For even when we try to be charitable at Christmas, we want to make sure that the people who are receiving our charity deserve it, have somehow earned it.

When charitable organizations make their plea to the public for help, have you noticed how they are in choosing their words?  “Please give so we can assist several deserving families this Christmas.”

These organizations realize that people in this country have been influenced more by culture than by Christianity—more by Santa Claus than by Jesus.  They realize that many people are afraid to give charity fearing that their donation might go to someone who has failed to earn it.  They realize that for most people the concept of grace is completely foreign.

To experience the true hope of Christmas, John the Baptist says we must change our hearts and minds and attitudes and live a life of grace.  It’s not a pleasant thing to hear, and it’s not a pleasant thing to do.  Giving love to someone who in no way deserves it never brings a good time.  But by the grace of God, it does bring hope.

Visiting the prisons, spending time with folks who deserve absolutely nothing, giving to a family at Christmas that has in no way earned our gift, buying a gift for someone we don’t even know, offering forgiveness to someone who has wronged us, truly loving our neighbors as ourselves, these things are not having a good time, but these things do miraculously bring hope, for both the giver and receiver.

How are your Christmas preparations coming this year?  Are you having a party?  Have you made your guest list?  This year, I hope you will gladly include John the Baptist.  He may not wish you a Merry Christmas, but he will be sure that you will a very hopeful Christmas.