Repentance and Forgiveness

Ash Wednesday and the season of Lent are typically times of self-reflection and self-discipline. We are reminded on Ash Wednesday that “we are dust and to dust we will return.” In the Litany of Penitence that we say on Ash Wednesday, and in the Great Litany that we will say on the First Sunday of Lent, we confess many sins and say to God that we know we are sinful creatures.

It is easy to regard Lent as depressing or to think that it makes us dwell on our sins and shortcomings. There certainly is truth in that. But as I was reading the lessons at our early service yesterday, and as we recited the Psalm, I noticed a theme I had never noticed before. In the reading from Joel, the prophet says, “Return to the Lord, your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.”

In the Psalm from yesterday, the Psalmist writes that “He forgives all your sins … He redeems your life from the grave.” Most beautifully, “For as the heavens are high above the earth, so is his mercy great upon those who fear him. As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our sins from us.”

Lent should be a time when we reflect on our sins and strive for amendment of life, but we should not lose sight of the equally important fact–that God is a loving and merciful God. Through our clear-eyed reflection on our sins, and on who we are, we can experience that love and forgiveness more deeply.

The Sacrament of Confession

I’ve been thinking about the sacrament of Confession a great deal. In class last week, as I lectured on Erasmus and his edition of the Greek New Testament and Latin translation that was published in 1516, I told my students about his translation of Greek word metanoia in the Gospel of Matthew. The traditional Latin translation was “Do penance” which puts in Jesus’ mouth the commandment to Christians to make their confession to a priest. Erasmus translated it more literally as “change your mind” and insisted that the sense of the Greek word was “be penitent.”

Last week, The New York Times published an article on the return of indulgences. You can read it here. It was perfectly timed, because this week in class, we turned to Martin Luther, his quest for a merciful God, and his attack on indulgences. The very first of his 95 Theses reads almost as if Erasmus might have written it, “When Jesus said, ‘Repent,’ he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.”

In the Middle Ages, the Church expected that all Christians would make their confession once a year, in preparation for the annual reception of communion at Easter. Lent, which had its beginnings in the Early Church as a period of preparation for baptism, took on a deeply penitential emphasis. Preachers, especially the Franciscans, would encourage their listeners to examine themselves more deeply and systematically, to ensure that they made a full confession.

While most of the Protestant reformers believed Confession was a useful practice and sought to retain it, most laypeople resisted. It was kept in the Book of Common Prayer. The Exhortation that was to be said before the Eucharist made clear that if one was in sin, they were to make a confession before receiving communion.

When we think of Confession, most of us probably think of what we see in the movies, or what we remember of our Roman Catholic childhoods—confessional boxes, with a grate separating the priest from the confessant.

Confession is an opportunity to reflect on one’s life. It should not be seen as a potential guilt trip. Instead, preparing for confession involves taking a good hard look at oneself, without blinders or excuses and to recognize who we are and what we do. In the confession of sin during the Eucharist we ask forgiveness for “the things we have done and the things we have left undone.” Preparing for private confession allows us to think seriously about the ways in which we have not been the human being that God wants us to be and indeed the human being that we want to be.

Some of us have the the discipline to embark on this self-examination on our own, but the result may indeed be feelings of guilt, doubt, or despair. To speak with a priest about the results of one’s self-examination provides the occasion to hear again the words we know are true; that our sins are forgiven by the great mercy of God. It may be that hearing those words of absolution will take a heavy burden off the shoulders of one who has been worrying about their sins.

The Darwin Bicentennial

Charles Darwin turned 200 years old this week, and later this year we will celebrate the 150th anniversary of the publication of The Origin of Species in 1859. Those two anniversaries are appropriate occasions to reflect on the relationship between Religion and Science and especially on the implications of Evolution for Christian faith. There have been hundreds of articles written in the past few weeks to mark Darwin’s birthday, and on Sunday at St. James, we will focus on these issues in our adult forum.

Among the more interesting reflections published on the internet is an article that is based on an interview with Presiding Bishop Katherine Jefforts Schori, who is a trained scientist. You can read it here.

The Church of England has produced a useful website that outines Darwin’s relationship with Christianity (he studied theology for a time at Cambridge), and includes a number of articles on the historical context and on contemporary Christian understandings. It is here.

Here are a couple of more articles that some might find interesting: “Five things we can learn from Creationists” and “What does Darwin mean to you?”

Candlemas

Today, February 2, is the Feast of the Presentation in the Temple. It is one of the most ancient commemorations in the church calendar, and has undergone significant transformation over the centuries. It honors the story in Luke 2 in which Joseph and Mary bring the infant Jesus to the temple. This was a practice in Judaism of the day when a mother would come to temple on the 40th day after birth, to offer sacrifices and be ritually purified. In the Luke story, Mary brings two turtledoves, the sacrifice specified for poor women. One of the focal points of the story is the song of Simeon, which he sings after seeing Jesus. Known as the Nunc Dimmitis, it begins “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word, for my eyes have seen your salvation….”

In earlier centuries, this feast day was known as Candlemas. It was the day when the priest blessed the beeswax candles that would be used in the church in the coming year, and laypeople could bring their candles for blessing as well. Mary’s coming to the temple on the fortieth day after giving birth in keeping with Jewish observance had an a significant impact on medieval religious practice. In most of western Christianity, a similar rite “The Churching of Women” was observed on the 40th day. It remained in the prayer book until the 1979 revision. In the sixteenth century, when continental Protestants attempted to do away with it as “popish superstition” they met strong resistance from women, for the celebration had become an important rite of passage and reintegration into the community after childbirth.

Candlemas is a feast day rarely observed by contemporary Episcopalians—we don’t often even use beeswax candles any more. At St. James, most of our candles use oil rather than wax but it had cultural as well as religious significance. One of the legends in England said that a wintry Candlemas would make for a late spring, which is probably the origin of the idea of Groundhog Day.

Perhaps the most important part of the gospel story is Simeon’s song of praise, which is regularly used in the liturgy, especially in the daily office, at evensong or compline. The prayerbook version reads:

Lord, you now have set your servant free

To go in peace as you have promised

For these eyes of mine have seen the Savior,

Whom you have prepared for all the world to see:

A Light to enlighten the nations,

And the glory of your people Israel.