Here is the video referred to:

Repentance Clips and Quotes from one28 on Vimeo.

Here is the video referred to before the actual testimonies begin.

Somehow, our Christian conversation has continued to speak of Christ, the cross, and communion without also including sin and repentance in the discussion. But we must grasp that unless we see sin for what it is, Christ is little more than a good example, the cross is an unnecessary tragedy, and communion is a nice time to drink juice and eat tiny crackers. In addition, apart from repentance, we cannot have any relationship with Christ, we have no participation in the benefits of the cross, and we eat and drink judgment on ourselves by taking communion.

We have largely removed the focus of our lives, and the life of the church, from the ugliness of our disobedience. We have largely replaced concern for sin with therapy for the miserable, medicine for the really miserable, skits for the bored, self-help books for the stressed out, positive reinforcement for the burdened, and so forth. In the process, we’ve lost the peace of forgiveness, the joy of a intimate relationship with our Creator, and the message of hope for our neighbors. We have dimmed our own light. We have made our salty selves tasteless. We stand on no solid beliefs. We share no story. We need to repent.

The Bible reveals God’s story. It communicates His character and His care for His creation. It reveals His plan to save a people from every tribe, tongue, and nation. The story centers on the Christ, put to death on a cross, and celebrated by us in communion until He comes again. This is a story of repentance.

The Christ

The name “Christ” refers to the second Person of the Trinity more than any other name than Jesus. It is used 350 times in the New Testament, many times along with Jesus, such as “Jesus Christ” or “Christ Jesus,” and other times by itself. It is not a personal name, as if it were His first or last name. Instead, it is an office or title given to a person holding that distinct responsibility.

The English word “Christ” derives from the Latin Christus, which transliterates the Greek word Christos. It referred to an “anointed” person, and as such, was used by the Jews in reference to the Messiah. Andrew said as much to Peter, “We have found the Messiah (which means Christ)” (John 1:41).

The entire Old Testament tells the story of the promised, coming Christ. As Jesus walked with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, He said that exact thing.

Then he said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, and said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. (Luke 24:44-48)

All three main divisions of the OT are included. The OT looks forward to the Christ, beginning at the start of the book.

I’ve recently reflected on the theological progression in Genesis 1-3, namely, that the sequence of events was not Creation -> Fall -> Repentance -> Redemption. Shouldn’t Adam and Eve immediately responded by repenting, desperate to receive God’s mercy and fix the broken relationship? Yet the first couple hid themselves; their natural instinct was covering their sin, not confessing it. Adam shifted the blame for his sin rather than shoulder it. Sin became the master immediately. So the theological progression moves from Creation -> Fall -> Redemption -> that includes the gift of Repentance. Adam and Eve would have died hiding behind a tree in Eden unless God initiated and brought them back to Himself.

Of course, during their first days in the garden, Adam and Eve had no reason to repent because there was no sin. But after the fall, God reveals the good news of a coming redeemer. He promised to send one who would crush the serpent, one who we progressively learn would also crush sin and death (Genesis 3:15), later referred to as the Messiah. The Law of Moses relates the first chapters in the story of the Christ.

The Prophets continue the story. Perhaps the most well known passage is Isaiah 53, foretelling the coming Suffering Servant.

Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.
(Isaiah 53:4-6)

Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him;
he has put him to grief;
when his soul makes an offering for guilt,
he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days;
the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.
Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied;
by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant,
make many to be accounted righteous,
and he shall bear their iniquities.
Therefore I will divide him a portion with the many,
and he shall divide the spoil with the strong,
because he poured out his soul to death
and was numbered with the transgressors;
yet he bore the sin of many,
and makes intercession for the transgressors.
(verses 10-12)

Christ, the Suffering Servant, would bear the iniquities of His people and be crushed for them. He wasn’t coming to make life easy or provide more fun. He came to suffer and die in order that we might be saved from the penalty and power of sin.

The Psalms also tell the same story.

Jesus summarizes the OT for the two disciples, “It is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead” (v. 46). The Messiah was given to save His people from their sins (cf. Matthew 1:21). No sin, no need for the Christ.

Note what Jesus states next, part of the same sentence, “and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in His name to all nations” (v. 47). Forgiveness is needed, and forgiveness comes through repentance. Talking about a Messiah is superfluous with seeing sin for what it is and repenting.

The Cross

As I’ve said, it is biblically impossible to disconnect the Christ from the cross. Jesus said, “The Christ should suffer and on the third day rise again.” But I want us to think through the question, Why the cross? For some this may be the first time they’ve thought about the Why. Others, by meditating on the Why again, should be moved to worship.

How could the Father send His only Son and allow Him to be mocked, beaten, and crucified? Wasn’t there another way? Was it really that bad? The cross does not make sense apart from the heinous, infinite offense of sin.

The cross proves that God is serious about sin. He cannot, and won’t, let it go. He doesn’t always judge immediately, but He will judge inevitably. His holiness requires punishment of unholiness. Christ took His punishment on the cross. According to Romans 3:24-26, the cross demonstrates God’s longstanding righteousness. He does not forget about sin. His forgiveness, available to those who repent, cannot be granted justly unless payment for sin is made. God is “just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus” Christ.

God has the power and right to judge sin.

“Jesus Christ and Him crucified” was the apostle Paul’s theme (1 Corinthians 2:2). He “delivered…as of first importance…that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that He was buried, that He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures” (1 Corinthians 15:3-4).

This is the gospel, and the first step of receiving the gospel is repenting from sin. It is inconceivable to take the cross apart from repentance. How could we cling to the very crimes that put Christ on the cross? How can we claim interest in Christ’s work to deliver us from sin while continuing to serve sin? How can we explain the gospel without calling others to repent? How dare we discredit His sacrifice by minimizing sin or by concealing the purpose of the cross.

The cross corroborates the need for repentance.

Communion

Participation in the Lord’s Table commemorates and celebrates Christ’s work on the cross. The bread represents His body, the cup represents His blood, given for us because of our sin.

For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, “This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way also he took the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. (1 Corinthians 11:23-26)

Jesus draws a direct line from His blood to the new covenant, the promise God makes in Ezekiel 36, to remove our hearts of stone, sovereignly give us new hearts, grant us repentance, and draw us to Himself. This is His work, celebrated at communion.

Communion testifies to our understanding of the seriousness of sin and glories in the cross. “As often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes” (v. 26). We tell the world about Jesus’ death, and that assumes He died for a reason. His death couldn’t have been due to Himself, otherwise His death is no different.

Our sin caused His death. If we desire forgiveness and communion, that is, if we desire fellowship with our greatest good, God Himself, we must repent.

That is exactly why Paul exhorted us to examine ourselves before we sit at this table.

Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty concerning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a person examine himself, then, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup. (1 Corinthians 11:27-28)

There is an unfortunate misunderstanding or miscommunication affecting our attitude toward communion. It is a negative, pessimistic, legalistic approach to the ordinance. There is more suspicion and discouragement than celebration.

The danger, of course, is eating or drinking “unworthily” (ἀναξίως). In order to avoid the tragic consequences of unworthy partaking, each person is to “examine” (δοκιμαζέτω) themselves.

This examination ought to prohibit at least two types of unworthy guilt: ambivalence toward sin and arrogance in sin. It is inappropriate for a man to “remember” and “proclaim” Christ’s death for sin and yet fail to think on his own sin. Failure to consider and mourn one’s sin is inconsistent. It is equally wrong to come to the table and glory in the very thing for which Christ shed His blood. Defiance of God’s standard makes one unworthy to share in God’s substitute. Both ambivalence and arrogance make a man unworthy, and these are certainly true of every unbeliever (since failure to repent and believe in Christ is rebellion or neglect or both), and may also be true of a believe on any given day.

However, and here is the real rub, the antidote to unworthy participation is not for us to purge all our sins prior to coming. We are sinners; we are incapable of purifying ourselves. Besides, even if we could purify ourselves, there would be no need for Christ’s work. We miss the point of communion by giving it a perfectionistic flavor. We don’t eat and drink because we’re clean, we eat and drink because His body and blood make us clean.

What is a worthy manner, then? It is a humble acknowledgement (and perhaps in some cases, that acknowledgement must needs include confession and reconciliation with a brother). But we acknowledge our sin and then affirm our trust in the Savior, including an optimistic belief that He will continue to save us.

Communion is not for the pure any more than Christ came to call the righteous. Let us not come in willful disobedience, flouting our sin. And let us not come indifferent to our sin. But we must not wait, or discourage others, until we have no sin. It is a celebration of His completed, and ongoing work. In it we seriously rejoice. That is a different flavor than what we typically find around His table today.

Communion and Community

Sin destroys our relationships.

God created man in His image and, as we discussed, image-bearing includes the capacity for relationship. Even this Sunday, we will hear God say, “It is not good that the man should be alone.”

Everything served relationship and community before the fall. Differences between the man and woman were complimentary. Communication was clear. Intimacy was easy. But post-fall, differences were cause for conflict. Language was confused. And division was easy. Sin wrecks relationship and community.

In this Genesis 3 world, we rarely allow for, let alone yield to, another perspective. We quickly blame the other (or any other) person. We hardly argue that we are the problem. As such, we become increasingly insensitive to others and isolated from them. Therefore, we inevitably fumble relationship when we grip tightly to pride. Our hands aren’t big enough to carry both.

On the other hand, repentance promotes community. Repentance impedes pride–a thick wall, and invites humility–an open door. It recognizes sin as the culprit behind division, not the style of communication. It acknowledges the possibility of, and maybe even appreciates, different perspectives. It softens us. It makes us thankful that our spouses, children, friends, and sheep love us, because we know they know we’re sinners. Communities can’t help but thrive when we repent from selfishness and empty conceit, from proudly regarding ourselves as more important than anyone else, merely looking out for our own personal interests (the anti Philippians 2:3-4).

Not only do we disrupt community, we lose influence the less we repent, especially as leaders. Christlike leadership and shepherding presume that people are important, not programs. A program doesn’t care if I’m a jerk; people do.

All that to say, relationships, after the fall, cannot survive without repentance. If we are not repenting, we are isolating ourselves, ruining our testimony, obscuring both the image of God and the gospel, and eliminating the possibility of godly happiness (cf. Matthew 5:3-4).

Consequences of Unrepentance

The believer’s failure to repent results in the Lord’s discipline, sometimes even to death according to 1 Corinthians 11:30. Failing to see sin for what it is, is cause for the Father’s judgment. It is almost unbelievable that we would take sin so lightly. We have been given spiritual sight by the Spirit. We understand His Word. It is wrong. The Christian’s failure to repent is worse because the Christian knows Who he/she is offending.

The unbeliever’s failure to repent result’s in the Judges’ wrath. Every day he lives, the unbeliever presumes “on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God’s kindness is meant to lead [them] to repentance?” (Romans 2:4) If the unbeliever does not repent, his hard heart stores up more wrath for him on the day of wrath when God’s righteous judgment will be revealed (Romans 2:5).

Conclusion

There is hope if we repent. Sinners, who see sin for what it is and seek the Savior, will be received by Him. That makes religious people crazy.

Now the tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear him. And the Pharisees and the scribes grumbled, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” (Luke 15:1-2)

Heaven rejoices when a sinner repents (v.7). Angels rejoice when one sinner repents (v. 10)

So, come! Repent! Believe! And celebrate! Don’t wait like Augustine.

Like a man whose wound has been hit, I pushed aside the words of good advice like the hand loosing the bond. (VI. xii.)

The fact is, you can’t hide from God.

Indeed, Lord, to Your eyes, the abyss of human consciousness is naked. What could be hidden with me, even if I were unwilling to confess it to You? I would be hiding You from myself, not myself from You. (X.i.)

If you are not yet forgiven, please don’t wait. There will be joy, not only in heaven, but here tonight.

You will be broken, either by God’s Spirit in repentance or by the Son in judgment. You will boast, either in God’s grace or in yourself.

Christ, our Savior, died at the cross as our substitute, that we might have communion with Him at the Lord’s Supper.

If you have been forgiven, but have found yourself turned away from the Lord, isolated from others, repent. And definitely do so before taking communion.

Note: the following notes are unedited, but posted now for sake of the quotes. An edited version of the sermon manuscript will be posted at a later time.

One of the biggest reasons I wanted to study more about Augustine is because of his significant influence. His life and work continue to shape (at least some parts of) the church today. From what I knew, Augustine impacted his community, his culture, his time, and beyond. I was eager to see his approach and to see if there was anything that we could learn in our current church context.

We are a splintered and insignificant body in the world. I know, I’m painting in broad strokes, and I can’t speak with exhaustive insight, but to me, it seems like our churches typically make news for all the wrong reasons. We make the news when a pastor commits adultery, comes out as a homosexual, or is caught abusing a child. We make the news when we convert old NBA arenas into 12,000 seat church auditoriums. We make the news when evangelical figure-heads (proudly) attribute terrorist attacks to our national unrighteousness. We do not seem to be changing the world; if anything, our influence is being pushed further into the margin.

We are not “turning the world upside down” like the early church (cf. Acts 17:6). That was the description of the city leaders who weren’t particularly pleased about the influence of the gospel, but they could not ignore or deny it.

Augustine impacted his world in a similar way. How? What did he do? Why was he so effective? My thesis is that God was pleased to change the world through Augustine because he saw sin for what it was, and repented. He turned the world upside down by turning away from sin.

Turning away from sin, in our personal choices as well as in our conversations, has not been the priority. In some cases, repentance is not even on the radar of the church’s life.

These are the two loves: the first is holy, the second is foul; the first is social, the second selfish; the first consults the common welfare for the sake of a celestial society, the second grasps at a selfish control of social affairs for the sake of arrogant domination; the first is submissive to God, the second tries to rival God; the first is quiet, the second is restless; the first is peaceful, the second trouble-making; the first prefers truth to the praises of those who are in error, the second is greedy for praise, however it may be obtained; the first is friendly, the second envious; the first desires for its neighbor what it wishes for itself, the second desires to subjugate its neighbor; the first rules its neighbor for the good of its neighbor, the second for its own advantage. (Literal Commentary on Genesis, XI. 15.20)

Three approaches to the world:

1. Some things to be avoided and rebuked. against the world

2. Some things to be shared and enjoyed. with the world

3. Some things to be loved and worshipped. above the world

This morning I want to highlight four fruitless approaches that are common in our churches. These are attitudes and methods that are ineffective, and I think actually counter-productive. These are four pseudo-gospels, artificial and misleading messages. Then we’ll consider one more gospel, the gospel I think found in the Bible and preached by Augustine.

The Social Gospel

The social gospel has been around for a long time, but is still going strong in many corners of the “church.” The social gospel focuses on meeting temporal needs. It hears Jesus calling us to feed the poor and clothe the naked. It hears James say that pure and undefiled religion is to visit orphans and widows in their affliction.

Those who believe the social gospel rightly criticize much of the contemporary church’s indifference toward the needy. So they collect money to provide clean water to kids in Africa. They work domestically to change laws about abortion and marriage. They start soup kitchens, homeless shelters, adoption agencies, and support groups for alcoholics.

When we turn the helpless away, saying “be warmed and filled” without providing when we can, we prove that our faith is worthless. However, no one gets to God because we gave them clean water, if that is the only thing we gave them. Dirty drinking water may be a problem, but it is not anyone’s biggest problem. Everyone’s biggest problem is sin that alienates them from God.

Not everyone who serves food to the homeless or who donates clothes to a shelter misses the point. There is a place for us to take care of temporal needs. But the church will not turn the world upside down by collecting more winter coats, building hospitals, or teaching people how to read. Again, not everyone, but many who take the social gospel approach never get around to talking about sin, if they acknowledge “sin” at all. They do not talk about Jesus as the crucified Savior; He is a kind miracle worker who feeds the five-thousand and heals sick people.

This is really no “gospel” at all. It is a pathetic and short term, substitute “good news.” And no matter how much liberals claim this is the more loving approach, it may be eternally worthless. Even more, it keeps people from the best joy. Joy and peace come from having the Messiah, not from knowing that the next meal is in the refrigerator.

The social gospel fails to see sin for what it is, as the problem.

The Selling Gospel

The selling gospel assumes that if we can package Christianity the right way, we can get anyone interested. If we present our message in an attractive way to our target audience, we will create a positive image and have a successful product. If we give people what they want, they’ll be likely to be interested in what we’re selling.

We don’t need innovation or entertainment.

This selling gospel takes many forms. It often starts with surveys that quiz people about their desires and dislikes, informing us how to overcome consumer resistance. Church services too long? Shorten them. Music too slow or boring? Use pop songs or write Christian lyrics to a rock beat. Preaching too long or boring? Replace preaching with videos or drama, or encourage conversation. Sunday worship inconvenient? We’ll change the oil in your car if you visit. Lifestyle to restrictive? Don’t worry, we get tattoos, use cuss-words, and wear jeans with holes in them just like you.

Does this mean we can’t wear jeans with holes? No. But think through the problems with the selling gospel. First, we are ministers, not marketers. Christ didn’t come to overcome consumer resistance. He Himself didn’t do that.

Second, using the world to change the world makes no sense. We cannot accomplish spiritual things with fleshly methods. We will not raise people to better joys by appealing to their lesser, worldly joys. We can entertain them with clean jokes, but is that the best we can offer? It’s like trying to scratch and itch with a feather; it makes the problem worse, not better.

Third, we cannot expect to bring people to Jesus with the same things Jesus commands them to repent from. How can the church lure people to otherworldly values with worldliness? How can the church lure people with worldliness when Christ commands us not to love the world, or the things in the world, and not to be conformed to the world?

Like the social gospel, the selling gospel is not really “good news.” It doesn’t confront sin, it tries to add clean fun.

The Soiled Gospel

I hinted at this group in session three. If the first two groups fail to see sin as the problem, the last two groups do. The soiled gospel approach knows that everyone is a sinner. All of us are wicked and wretched. This group is extremely suspicious of anyone, especially professing Christians, who don’t admit they are the worst of the worse. Whereas the selling/seeker approach tries to present a positive image, this soiled group calls that superficial, and criticizes Sunday-best churches for failing to be transparent and authentic. No perfect people.

The soiled gospel group embraces the fact that men are foul. They demonstrate this in their clothing; they would never wear a suit to church because they would never presume to look so clean and orderly. Dirty hair and scraggly beards are back in a big way, and the external represents the internal attitude. They write minor chord songs about how the church is a spiritual whore.

The soiled gospel doesn’t try to reach people by showing them how much fun we can have, but by showing others we’re sinners just like they are. There are no perfect people allowed. It almost comes across that the more sinful, the more connection. The more miserable and slummy we show our transparent selves to be, the more we identify with hurting and miserable people.

Are we bad? Yes. Should we act righteous if we’re not? No. But nor should we keep living in unrighteousness to be “real.”

Good people delighted to hear about the past sins of those who have now shed them. The pleasure is not in the evils as such, but that though they were so once, they are not like that now. (X. iii.)

This is the primary problem with the grunge, emergent approach. While it may do a commendable job of acknowledging our spiritual condition and conduct, it does not seem to acknowledge the transforming power of Christ. There is almost a reveling in sin and depravity rather than repenting from it. So it is not “good” news. There seems to be little to no hope of purity. Passions and pleasures are not reoriented for holy things, as if that were an impossibility while remaining in these bodies on this planet. We’re left in our unrighteous condition, but at least we can be a community of miserable people talking about our Jesus tattoos.

The Secluded Gospel

The fourth fruitless approach also recognizes that sin is the ultimate problem. And unlike the soiled approach, this group believes that there is hope for a pure life, but that hope only comes by removing ourselves as far away from the world as we can get. God wants His people holy, set apart, so they take that literally and build compounds, or at least they create rules that force isolation from whatever is bad.

The secluded gospel group is ironically proud of their purity. They can’t believe that others don’t perceive how wrong it is to associate with anything that has the appearance of evil, or to associate with those who associate with anything that has the appearance of evil.

Augustine faced this in the Donatists, who feared that their spiritual potency would be lost by contact with the unclean (Brown, 219). The “Donastist church was a group on the defensive…immobilized by anxiety to preserve its identity” (ibid, 221). So they withdrew.

This approach is still strong today. These Christians are great at creating their own bubble and then criticizing anyone who is outside of the bubble, Christian or not. Repentance is defined as removal of themselves from the world, not as a way to be salt. They don’t hide their light under the bushel basket, they take their light and go miles away from the darkness.

This is not “news,” let alone good news. Even though somehow they heard the gospel, there is fear of getting close enough to sinners to tell them about it. Though Jesus ate with tax-collectors and granted forgiveness to adulterers, we’re not Him, so we better be more careful. Turning the world upside down won’t happen if we watch from a distance.

Each one of these four so-called gospels are man-centered. They are not man-centered in the same way, but it is the common thread. The social gospel is overly concerned with man’s physical needs, the selling gospel is overly concerned with man’s fun, the soiled gospel puts focus on man’s confession, not God, and the secluded gospel is overly concerned with man’s isolation.

Man-centered gospels are destined to fail. They “relate themselves absolutely to the relative: they make an ultimate goal out of man’s earthly life and secular well-being” (Needham, 45). Skits and pep rally services are insufficient to deal with the issue.

Committed to the fragile world they had created, they were forced to idealize it. (Brown, 309)

Let us pine for the City where we are citizens….By pining, we are already there; we have already cast our hope, like an anchor, on that coast. I sing of somewhere else, not of here, for I sing with my heart, not my flesh. (quoted in Brown, 315)

The attitude in each group determines their methods and message. So what attitude and approach should we take? What method and message is appropriate for the church?

The Saving Gospel

We have a great opportunity to provide clarity and make an impact, against the false gospels. Political answers and financial answers won’t work. Diagnose the problem as original sin and then provide the solution.

Should we give food, clean water, and warm clothes to people who need it? Yes, but that is not their greatest joy. Should we go to great lengths to avoid offending people? Yes, but that is not the same thing as overcoming consumer resistance. Should we mourn that we’re sinners and refuse to fake righteousness? Yes, but that doesn’t mean we should keep living in unrighteousness. Should we avoid worldliness and flee temptation? Yes, but that doesn’t mean we take the gospel with us.

Augustine saw the Christian’s task in culture as a threefold responsibility. “He must become holy; he must coexist with sinners in the same community as himself, a task involving humility and integrity; but he must also be prepared, actively, to rebuke and correct them” (Brown, 223).

The Donatists “regarded their church as an alternative to society, as a place of refuge, like the Ark” (Brown, 224).

I believe that the place we need to start is repentance, personal and proclaimed.

Personal repentance, or repentant hearts, keep us from being cold, inconsistent, jerks when evangelizing. We know that we’re sinners. We are humbled by that in a way that enables us to be bold with the gospel without being arrogant. It also enables us to speak with sweetness yet without compromising, because sin is still the issue. Our humility doesn’t keep us from telling others to repent, but our God-given desire for holiness doesn’t keep us from telling others to repent arrogantly.

If we want God to use us, the church must return to proclaiming repentance. If what we said earlier in the week is true, that repentance is the gateway to superior pleasure, we must not act like temporal food is better than eternal food, or that superficial joy is better than spiritual joy, or that transparent misery is better than transparent purity, or that isolated righteousness is better than global worship.

The church must live in repentant community.

Please pardon us if our country, up above, has to cause trouble to your own. (quoted in Brown, 288)

Repentance is the only way to engage the culture, the only way to be in the world but not of it, the only way to be critical of sin but not judgmental, the only way to pursue holiness in humility, the only way to speak with authority but not arrogance, the only way to be bold but not beat people, the only way to think and live theologically in a world where the real problem is sin and the ultimate goal of culture is God’s praise.

Like in Augustine’s time, a person’s worst enemies are not outside him. They are inside, in sin and in doubts (see Brown, 159).

Being missional, as far as I’m concerned, doesn’t mean learning how to skateboard. It means taking Jesus’ mission as our own. He came not to call the righteous but sinners to repentance (Luke). He had numerous opportunities to communicate repentance.

There is a delight which is given not to the wicked (Isa. 48:22), but to those who worship You for no reward save the joy that You Yourself are to them. That is the authentic happy life, to set one’s joy on You, grounded in You and caused by You. (X. xxii.)

Conclusion

He who loves God loves himself thereby, [so] it follows that he must endeavor to get his neighbor to love God, since he is ordered to love his neighbor as himself. (The City of God, XII. 6)

Suffering and death is around us. The best thing we can do is call men to repent.

We do not want to be Augustinian monks, but Augustinian disciple-makers. God may use us to turn the world upside down, but not if we don’t practice and proclaim repentance.

Our testimony is valuable, like Augustine. If told well, it relates the experience of someone they can see with the ultimate subject. Repenting from our sin is a powerful witness to our classmates, co-workers, and community.

If your delight is in souls, love them in God…and draw as many with you to Him as you can. (Confessions, IV. xii.)

When it comes to the practice of repentance, what is our biggest problem? Why is it that we don’t repent more quickly? Why is repentance so difficult? Obviously the problem is sin, and as we talked about last night, sin does a masterful job of trapping us with pleasure, but that is not our biggest problem. Our biggest problem is that repentance is beyond our ability. We cannot repent on our own without God’s grace granting us repentance.

The debate over free will is an old one. In fact, it is a 1600 year old debate. Many of the Reformers in the 16th century relit the torch of man’s depravity and God’s sovereignty in salvation, but the first, and probably most foundation debate took place in the 4th and early 5th century between Augustine and Pelagius.

I say it was the first time for the debate because in the first four centuries, the church was busy defending and clarifying other key doctrines such as the Trinity, the Deity of Christ, and the Canon of Scripture. But now, grace and salvation were on the table, and Augustine took up the fight. The subsequent debates between Luther and Erasmus, Calvin and Arminius, Whitefield and Wesley were only rehashing the original.

Our understanding of how repentance comes about is no small issue, nor is it merely a theoretical or doctrinal one. It touches our anthropology–understanding of man, hamartiology–understanding of sin, soteriology–understanding of salvation, our evangelism–how and what we say about the gospel, and it touches our affections and worship.

I believe a large part of the reason why Christians are so weak, why our churches are so worldly, and why our impact on the world is so pitiful is because we don’t know and live in light of God-given repentance. I’m also convinced that one reason God made Augustine’s ministry so fruitful (like the Reformers, Edwards, and Spurgeon later) is because Augustine loved to proclaim, defend, and exalt in God’s sovereignty.

This debate was no small part of Augustine’s life, and it has no small consequences for us today.

The struggle with Pelagianism was thus in reality a struggle for the very foundations of Christianity; and even more dangerously than in the previous theological and Christological controversies, here the practical substance of Christianity was in jeopardy. The real question at issue was whether there was any need for Christianity at all…. (Warfield, “Augustine and the Pelagian Controversy,” A Select Library of the Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers of teh Christian Church, (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1905), 13-71).

So tonight we’re going to consider the Debate and the Doctrine.

The Debate over Free Will

In many ways, the debate starts with Augustine’s Confessions. We wouldn’t normally think an autobiography could cause such a stir. His autobiography was a very popular book. Not only did Augustine himself regard it as the most important of his works, many of his contemporaries carried copies with them and read it like a devotional, for their own personal edification. It was well known, not only for its literary excellence, but also for its spiritual blessing.

One of the most important people ever to read, or actually, to have the book read to him, was a man who reacted violently when chapter 10 was read in his presence. This man was so hot with disagreement, he almost got into a fight with the reader. The man who was upset was Pelagius.

Pelagius was a British monk, well known on his own for preaching morality and seeking the righteous living of his flock. In fact, Augustine had written positive things about Pelagius in the early years of his work. However, Pelagius aimed men at holy living because he was convinced that they had the power, on their own, to live holy lives.

In chapter 10 of the Confessions, Augustine repeated a particular prayer four times. There is nothing else like it in the whole book. No doubt many ideas are repeated, but none word for word like this. The prayer was,

Grant what You command, and command what You will.

A controversy that lasts until today exploded from this one sentence. Pelagius had absolutely no disagreement with the second half of the prayer. Of course, God was the authority and therefore, could make whatever rules He chooses. That is the divine prerogative, and Pelagius was vigorous in his preaching of God’s law.

But he could not handle the first part of Augustine’s prayer: “Grant what You command.” This was completely unacceptable to Pelagius. In fact, he believed that such a naive approach would actually hinder men from obedience rather than help them.

Pelagius assumed one thing that drove his interpretation and perspective on everything else. He assumed that if God commanded men to do things, men must also have the ability to do those things. If men did not have the ability, Pelagius reasoned that God’s command was a fiction.

How could God command us to do anything if we were unable to do what He commands?

This reasoning affected his view of man’s condition, starting with Adam. Adam represented only Adam. “Adam’s sin merely set an ill example, which [man] has been quick to follow.” But that was it. Men are born innocent, but their environment makes them bad. The problems could be solved, according to Pelagious, by education.

Pelagious concluded that men were sinners, but that sin was not so powerful or dominating that it could not be overcome. In addition, Pelagius questioned whether any of God’s grace was necessary for men to choose holiness and attain to heaven. He didn’t deny that there was such a thing as grace, or that grace was helpful, but Pelagius believed that grace was superfluous. God expected His creatures to obey Him. Nothing could be more reasonable than that, and, obviously this must needs be possible. Any man could “work out not only his own salvation, but also his own perfection” (Warfield).

Pelagius seriously underestimated the problem.

Pelagianism had appealed to a universal theme: the need of the individual to define himself, and to feel free to create his own values in the mist of the conventional, second-rate life of society. (Brown, 346)

So Pelagius began to write, and though Augustine was in his 70′s, he knew this was a charge that must be answered. At stake was the gospel itself. If men could obey apart from grace, there was no need or faith or for the cross.

It was a personal issue for Augustine, and he had not always taken the position he would now. He had written in his younger days about the freedom of the will, so much that one biographer claimed “Augustine was, on paper, more Pelagian than Pelagious” (Brown, 148). Pelagius quoted Augustine against himself. But Augustine had come to realize that he was lost apart from God granting him repentance. Here is a sampling. His understanding of grace was rooted in his own experience, along with his reading of the apostle Paul.

Bring me to a sweetness surpassing all the seductive delights which I pursued. Enable me to love you will all my strength that I may clasp Your hand with all my heart. (I. xiv.)

I sought a way to obtain strength enough to enjoy You; but I did not find it until I embraced “the mediator between God and man, the man Christ Jesus” (1 Tim. 2:5). (VII. xviii. 128)

The fact that those things that make for successful progress towards God should cause us delight is not acquired by our good intentions, earnestness and the value of our own good will–but is dependent on the inspiration granted us by God….Surely our prayers are, sometimes, so lukewarm, stone-cold, indeed, and hardly prayers at all…. (quoted in Brown, 155)

So Augustine attributed every change to God’s initiating, sovereign work.

You called and cried out loud and shattered my deafness. You were radiant and resplendent, You put to flight my blindness. You were fragrant, and I drew in my breath and now pant after you. I tasted You, and feel but hunger and thirst for You. You touched me, and I am set on fire to attain the peace which is Yours. (X. xxvi.)

Augustine clearly understood that God gave him everything, including repentance. “Grant what You command, and command what You will.” Augustine taught, “…sinful man depends, for his recovery to good and to God, entirely on the free grace of God” (Warfield, quoted in Piper, 25).

In his first book addressing the need for sovereign grace, On the Grace of Christ, argues that grace is not according to our merit, and makes obedience, possible, not just easier. The second book, On Original Sin, argues that men do not have a capacity for either good or bad. Adam was more than a bad example. On Grace and Free Will was Augustine’s fullest explanation, God sovereignly governs and is wholly gratuitous in His grace. The Gift of Perseverance taught that grace keeps men in faith.

But is it biblical? Augustine thought it was. He said, “We must first bend our necks to the authority of Scripture in order that we may arrive at knowledge and understanding through faith.” Warfield said of Augustine, “No other of the fathers so conscientiously wrought out his theology from the revealed Word; no other of them so sternly excluded human additions….[His theology] leads to God, and it came from God; and in the midst of the controversies of so many ages it has shown itself an edifice whose solid core is built out of material ‘which cannot be shaken.’”

The Doctrine of Sovereign Grace

There is no doubt that God commands repentance. The question is, how do men come to repentance? Why does one repent and the person in the chair next to him doesn’t? Consider a couple passages with me that require repentance.

Therefore I will judge you, O house of Israel, every one according to his ways, declares the Lord God. Repent and turn from all your transgressions, lest iniquity be your ruin. Cast away from you all the transgressions that you have committed, and make yourselves a new heart and a new spirit! Why will you die, O house of Israel? For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone, declares the Lord God; so turn, and live. (Ezekiel 18:30-32)

In Ezekiel 18, the prophet is making a case that men are responsible for their sin. “The one who sins dies” is the point. Fathers and sons and grandsons each answer for their own sin, though there may be overlapping consequences. Ezekiel repeats the message multiple times throughout the chapter: “the soul who sins shall die” (v. 20).

The message of personal responsibility brings Ezekiel to verses 30-32 and a call to repent. Jerusalem is going to be destroyed, but the people should humble themselves before God. The LORD God declares, “I will judge you, o house of Israel, every one according to his ways.” And then not how many things the Lord requires.

• Repent
• Turn
• Cast away
• Make a new heart and a new spirit
• Turn and live

By doing so, they would gain life. He asks, “Why would you die?” He states He is not happy when people die (v. 32). It seems like it is all up to each man himself to choose. He even commands them to make new hearts and new spirits for themselves. It appears not only to be their responsibility, but also within their ability.

The command to repent is also frequent in the NT. It was a major part of the apostles’ message in Acts. Peter commanded repentance at Pentecost (2:38), again at Solomon’s Portico after he and John healed the lame beggar. Paul summarized his ministry, as a call of repentance before King Agrippa (26:19-20) and note in particular his message before the Areopagus in 17:22-32.

The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent, because he has fixed a day on which he will judge the world in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed; and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead. (Acts 17:30-31)

Judgment is coming, so God commands repentance. Again it appears like repentance is within man’s grasp. He can choose to repent for life (which makes the most sense) or he can maintain his current course of unrighteousness and pay later.

So why don’t more men repent? Can they really not see the advantage? As we’ve discussed this week, one reason for unrepentance is that their unconvinced the joy will be there like they have now. Another reason may be simple indifference. But I think both of those are driven by a deeper problem. No man can repent without God granting it to him.

Though it doesn’t use the word “repent,” look back at Ezekiel, but this time chapter 36.

Therefore say to the house of Israel, Thus says the Lord God: It is not for your sake, O house of Israel, that I am about to act, but for the sake of my holy name, which you have profaned among the nations to which you came. And I will vindicate the holiness of my great name, which has been profaned among the nations, and which you have profaned among them. And the nations will know that I am the Lord, declares the Lord God, when through you I vindicate my holiness before their eyes. I will take you from the nations and gather you from all the countries and bring you into your own land. I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleanness, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules. You shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers, and you shall be my people, and I will be your God. And I will deliver you from all your uncleanness. And I will summon the grain and make it abundant and lay no famine upon you. I will make the fruit of the tree and the increase of the field abundant, that you may never again suffer the disgrace of famine among the nations. Then you will remember your evil ways, and your deeds that were not good, and you will loathe yourselves for your iniquities and your abominations. It is not for your sake that I will act, declares the Lord God; let that be known to you. Be ashamed and confounded for your ways, O house of Israel. (Ezekiel 36:22-32)

First thing first, this is a specific promise to God’s people, Israel. This is about the New Covenant, and that commitment is for God to the Jews. But part of the promise not mentioned here, is that God graciously opened up His saving plan to the Gentiles, and is currently bringing His chosen from every nation to salvation. Therefore, we participate in the spiritual parts of the promise in Ezekiel 36, though Israel will eventually and fully participate in all of His blessings.

See verses 26 and 27 especially. What God commands in chapter 18, He enables here. Making a new heart and a new spirit are His work, at His initiative. He cleanses us when we were not cleansing ourselves. He enables us to see sin for what it is, “[we] will remember [our] evil ways, and [our] evil deeds that were not good, and [we] will loathe [ourselves] for [our] iniquities and [our] abominations” (v. 31).

This commitment on God’s part is not responsive. It does not wait for us. It does not depend on us. The paragraph opens and closes with the motivation, “for the sake of My holy name.”

This heart transplant is beyond our ability. That’s why we sing, “Lord, now indeed I find, Thy power and Thine alone, can change the lepers’ spots, and melt the heart of stone.” No man has ever successfully performed heart surgery on himself. He wouldn’t even know he needed surgery unless God acted on him. God writes His law on the hearts of men so that it becomes their desire to do His will. It is irresistible grace; those who are given the gift of faith can’t help but believe.

And let’s also see how the men in Acts describe repentance. Peter, who commanded men to repent and believe, said

The God of our fathers raised Jesus, whom you killed by hanging him on a tree. God exalted him at his right hand as Leader and Savior, to give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins. (Acts 5:30-31)

God gave repentance to Israel, a beginning fulfillment of the New Covenant. It was God’s gift, not man’s product. Peter also acknowledges God’s work among the Gentiles.

If then God gave the same gift to them as he gave to us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could stand in God’s way? When they heard these things they fell silent. And they glorified God, saying, “Then to the Gentiles also God has granted repentance that leads to life.” (Acts 11:17-18)

As he reported God’s work to the church in Jerusalem, he explicitly attributes God’s initiative, and the people respond by acknowledging “God has granted repentance that leads to life.”

I want us to look at one more passage that may be the clearest of them all in regards to God’s sovereign granting of repentance. In 2 Timothy 2:22-26, the apostle Paul provides instructions for Timothy on how to handle those who quarrel and talk ignorantly. The first part of the counsel concerns Timothy’s character (v. 22), then Paul calls him to exercise wisdom and discretion for knowing what battles to fight (v. 23), and then describes the proper approach.

And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness. (2 Timothy 2:24-25a)

Then look at the hope.

God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will. (2 Timothy 2:25b-26)

The hope is for God to sovereignly intervene. It isn’t about more clearly explaining his argument; repentance leads to a knowledge of the truth, not the other way around. It wasn’t about exposing how awful it is to live according to the devil, because repentance is the only way of escape. The gate of repentance is opened by God. God grants repentance. It is His gift. He doesn’t always grant it, that’s why Paul says “God may perhaps grant repentance.” God may not. It is His sovereign prerogative. But without His initiation, repentance will not happen.

It all starts with God.

I call you into my soul which you are preparing to receive You through the longing which You have inspired in it. (XIII. i.)

Pelagius seriously underestimated the problem. He failed to comprehend the depth of man’s depravity and his captivity to sin and the devil. He was right in seeing that men are responsible to repent, he missed the crucial ingredient of God’s sovereign grace.

Conclusion

There are a least a few clear summary points to make.

First, we need to repent. God requires it. If we will not repent, we will be judged to eternal death.

Second, we do not have the power to repent. Even our repentance depends on God.

Third, we must throw ourselves on God’s mercy, acknowledge our wickedness and our weakness, asking Him to forgive us and help us turn away from sin.

And fourth, if we do that, if we repent, if we start to see sin for what it is and turn from it to God, we must give every part of the credit to God. He must get the praise for any good that comes through our lives.

The song, “Were It Not for Grace” by Larnelle Harris

In my soul I yearned to follow God
But knew I’d never be so strong
I looked hard at this world
To learn how heaven could be gained
Just to end where I began
Where human effort is all in vain.

Were it not for grace
I can tell you where I’d be
Wandering down some pointless road to nowhere
With my salvation up to me
I know how that would go
The battles I would face
Forever running but losing the race
Were it not for grace

That is exactly where each one of us would be. This is theocentric salvation.

“Grant what You command, and command what You will.”

First and foremost because no subject [but grace] gives me greater pleasure. For what ought to be more attractive to us sick men, than grace, grace by which we are healed; for us lazy men, than grace, grace by which we are stirred up; for us men longing to act, than grace, by which we are helped? (quoted in Brown, 355)

What do we think about when we hear the word “repentance”? What immediately comes to mind? What things are associated with repentance? What synonyms would we use?

Perhaps an even more important question is, when was the last time we repented? Do we repent on a weekly, or daily basis? Is repentance only something we do once, when we get saved? Or is repentance something we do only when we’ve committed a huge sin?

Repentance is certainly a word closely connected with the Bible, or at least it used to be. Prophets preached repentance in the Old Testament and apostles preached repentance in the New Testament. Certain cities and nations were spared for repenting (Ninevah). Other cities and peoples were dramatically destroyed for failing to repent (Sodom and Gommorah, even Jerusalem). John the Baptist came preaching repentance. Peter preached repentance on the day of Pentecost. Jesus revealed that His earthly mission was aimed not to find the righteous, but to call sinners to repentance.

Yet repentance has largely disappeared from our vocabulary, even in our Christian conversations. The people who use it on a regular basis come across as angry. They stand in front of football stadiums wearing sandwich board signs and shouting “Repent or die!” and “Turn or burn!” We might use repentance as a last resort, keeping it in the bag until the last possible moment, fearing that any talk of repentance might turn people away from Jesus.

In our daily spiritual walk we rarely refer to, let alone practice, repentance. When we encounter God’s discipline or when we’re feeling guilty over sin, we talk about change, or maybe we talk about doing better next time. But I can’t remember the last time I heard someone come out and say, “I had to, or need to, repent.”

To be fair, there is a small community of “grunge” Christians who have responded to the goody-two-shoes, Sunday-best Christians, who know we’re not pure, and who have run the other direction. It seems like these brothers and sisters can only talk about how wicked, vile, and sinful they are. They write songs and blogs divulging their sinful secrets and demanding that every Christian does the same if they want to be “real.” But ironically, I’m not sure they understand repentance. It is as if being bad and wallowing in sin is more authentic than confessing sin and then moving away from it.

So what is repentance? Our goal is to answer that question in this session. Last night we did exegesis of a paragraph, and this morning we studied biography and church history. Tonight we’ll do a mini-theology of repentance, and hopefully it will have very practical and immediate benefit. We’ll try to unravel the biblical teaching on repentance by asking three simple questions.

What is repentance?

As I mentioned already, repentance recurs regularly in the Bible. In the New Testament, the Greek word translated repentance is metanoia (μετάνοια), which in its most basic sense means “a change of mind.” But as we examine its usage, I think we can get a more precise understanding of what is involved in that change of mind. I want to point out three parts of this change of mind, or three ingredients of repentance.

1. Repentance involves remorse over our sinful nature and sinful acts.

There would be no need for repentance if there were no authority, who held no standard, of if we were perfectly obedient to that standard. I’m convinced one of the reasons repentance is not a regular topic of conversation is because we have a relativistic (no one standard) and pluralistic (no one authority) mindset. Repentance assumes God is the authority and that His Word is the law.

According to His Word, we are all guilty of disobeying His standard. The very first man God created broke the only rule he was given within the first few days of his existence. Since then, we are sinners by nature. We inherit a sinful nature from Adam. Even more, that nature inevitably causes us to act, and the more we act, the greater our slavery to sin. All of us have sinned. None of us, not even one, does good. We are all guilty.

Repentance begins with a humble, sorrowful acknowledgement of our condition and conduct. The acknowledgment is what we call confession.

If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us. (1 John 1:8-10)

1 John is addressed to believers, so even after salvation, confession or acknowledgment of sin is an ongoing need. The fact is, “Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy” (Proverbs 28:13). Confession is a part of repentance, not separate from it. I draw that conclusion because John the Baptist came preaching in the wilderness saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (Matthew 3:2). In verse six, those who responded to his message were being baptized and “confessing their sins.” Confessing sin is part of repentance.

But as I said, it is to be a humble acknowledgment. Again, the “kingdom of heaven” was at stake in Matthew 3:2. Jesus preached the exact message about the kingdom connected with personal repentance in Matthew 4:17. Then in Matthew 5:3, the kingdom of heaven is constituted by the “poor in spirit.” In other words, God’s people are spiritually humble people. These blessed ones also “mourn” (Matthew 5:4), presumably over their sin. A truly repentant person is broken by their sinful condition.

Grief, sorrow, and mourning are clearly connected by Paul in 2 Corinthians 7:8-10.

For even if I made you grieve with my letter, I do not regret it—though I did regret it, for I see that that letter grieved you, though only for a while. As it is, I rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because you were grieved into repenting. For you felt a godly grief, so that you suffered no loss through us. For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death.

The apostle had written to confront their sin, and their response was sorrow. The acknowledgement of sin, of having violated the standard and offending the Authority, is not an unaffected, cold assessment. It includes remorse, that is, deep regret for a wrong committed. Repentance involves heaven, broken-hearted sorrow. Job illustrates this attitude when after God confronts him for four chapters, he responds “I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:6).

Yet we can’t miss that grief, in and of itself, is not equal to repentance. There is a “worldly grief” that leads to death. It is possible to be sorry and not repent. It’s possible to feel bad, to have pangs of conscience due to sin, and still not be repenting. Augustine spent at least nine years previous to his conversion overwhelmed by sorrow, but not yet repenting.

By the way, we don’t repent because we’re afraid of hell. Augustine asserted that, “A man who is afraid of sinning because of Hell-fire, is afraid, not of sinning, but of burning” (quoted in Brown, 372). Repentance involves godly grief, remorse over our sinful nature and acts, but there is more.

2. Repentance involves renunciation of our self-sufficiency and self-righteousness.

Repentance is not turning away from sin and bringing something to God, it is coming to Him because we know we have nothing good to bring. We admit our inability to please Him, as well as our inability to desire Him. We give up attempting to offer our goodness or holiness to please or appease Him.

Denial of sin is the first enemy of repentance, but the second enemy is declaring our righteousness. Trying to do good may keep as many people away from God as those who defy Him. He is not interested in what we have or what we can do. We don’t meet His standard, which is perfection. When we repent, we not only sorrowfully acknowledge all the wrong we’ve done, we also give up claims to any good on our own.

That is the reason John the Baptist rejected the Pharisees and religious leaders when they met him at the Jordan River in Matthew 3. They thought they were bringing their own good to the table. John told them to “bear fruits in keeping with repentance” (Matthew 3:8). We saw last night in session one, that the people who think they have something to offer not only misunderstand their condition, but also need to repent from making such an arrogant claim.

Confessing our sin but claiming righteousness kept the Jews from salvation.

For I bear them witness that they have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge. For, being ignorant of the righteousness of God, and seeking to establish their own, they did not submit to God’s righteousness. (Romans 10:2-3)

I think renunciation of self-righteousness is also the reason why belief is so closely connected with repentance. Repent and believe…what? Believe that Christ bore the penalty for our unrighteousness and the provider of His righteousness. Repentance includes abandoning any reason for boasting in ourselves.

3. Repentance involves reorientation of our passions and pleasures.

Maybe that sounds strange. Depending on what first comes to your mind when we hear the word repentance, it is likely to be odd. But I think this is the part that’s missing most, this is the part that we misunderstand most, and the reason that our repentance is often so short-lived.

Too often we think about repentance as stopping or avoiding sin. Repentance is not less than change of behavior, but it also must include a change of desires. Repentance keeps us from worldliness, not because our mind is changed about the definition of sin. True repentance keeps us from worldliness because our mind is changed about wanting sin. Note how Paul perceived “godly” grief in the Corinthians:

For see what earnestness this godly grief has produced in you, but also what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what fear, what longing, what zeal, what punishment! At every point you have proved yourselves innocent in the matter. (2 Corinthians 7:11)

Godly grief produces “earnestness” and “eagerness.” It produces “zeal” instead of lukewarmness (Revelation 3). Repentance is a change of mind, resulting in changed wants not merely changed ways. We stop denying that we’ve disobeyed His standard. We stop declaring that we have our own righteousness. And we start desiring God as our greatest pleasure! Chew on that and we’ll come back to it later in the message.

So what is repentance? It is a change of mind that involves remorse over our sinful nature and acts, renunciation of our self-sufficiency and self-righteousness, and reorientation of our passions and pleasures.

What is repentance from?

Other than having ended the question with a preposition, and other than having said that we repent from sin, Augustine can really help us here. His piercing insight and painful honestly so closely identifies with our current context, it is almost as if he were living among us. As I see it, there are at least four things that enslaved Augustine, things that enslave many of us, for which he had to repent.

The enemy had control of my will, and from that had made a chain to bind me fast. From a perverted act of will, desire had grown, and when desire is given satisfaction, habit is forged; and when habit passes unresisted, a compulsive urge sets in: by these close knit links I was held (quoted in Brown, 173)

We should turn from any and all disobedience, including lukewarm or misdirected affections. But the following four sinful longings are particularly tyrannizing to many young persons.

1. Education

Augustine was smart. Not only did his father seek to give him opportunities to learn, he had exceptional God-given abilities.

…I had by myself read and understood all the books I could get hold of on the arts which they call liberal….I learnt about the art of speaking and disputing…with no great difficulty and without a teacher to instruct me….I was not aware that these arts are very difficult to understand even for studious and intelligent people, until I tried to explain them to such people and found the student of outstanding quality was the one who did not lag behind me in my exposition….My agile mind found no difficulty in these subjects, and…without assistance from a human teacher I could elucidate extremely complicated books. (IV. xvi.)

You know, Lord my God, that quick thinking and capacity for acute analysis are Your gift. But that did not move me to offer them in sacrifice to You. And so these qualities were not helpful, but pernicious, because I went to so much pains to keep a good part of my talents under my control. (.ibid)

But he came to realize that his education was worthless apart from God.

What advantage came to me from the fact that I had by myself read and understood all the books I could get hold of on the arts which they call liberal, at a time when I was the most wicked slave of evil lusts?

He was a slave to education, learning, his own academic abilities. He didn’t abandon books when he got saved, but he stopped serving books.

2. Esteem

Much of the reason, perhaps, for his pursuit of knowledge was motivated by his desire to be respected and praised by men. He was enslaved by the opinions of others. He positioned himself to be seen and to raise his position.

I aspired to honours, money, marriage, and You laughed at me. In those ambitions I suffered the bitterest difficulties; that was by Your mercy–so much the greater in that You gave me less occasion to find sweet pleasure in what was not You. (VI. vi.)

3. Entertainment

At least for some period of his life, Augustine loved entertainment.

I was captivated by theatrical shows. They were full of representations of my own miseries and fueled my fire. Why is it that a person should wish to experience suffering by watching grievous and tragic events which he himself would not wish to endure? (III. i.)

He described the plunge of his friend Alypius into watching the gladiators, “He was struck in the soul by a wound graver than the gladiator in his body.” “He looked, he yelled, he was on fire, he took the madness home with him so that it urged him to return not only with those by whom he had originally been drawn there, but ever more than them, taking others with him” (VI. viii.)

When he wasn’t pursuing learning, he was given to the theatre. He didn’t have on-demand movies and 100 cable channels. He didn’t have a world-wide-web to surf, endless songs to download, or a Wii to waste his hours. But what he did have access to was enough to waste his life.

4. Epithumia

I use “epithumia” to keep the “e” theme. Many of you have heard me use the word before. It is the Greek word for lust. By his own admission, Augustine’s pre-Christian life was dominated by unrestrained lust.

The single desire that dominated my search for delight was simply to love and to be loved….The bubbling impulse of puberty befogged and obscured my heart so that it could not see the difference between love’s serenity and lust’s darkness. (II. i.)

I was in love with love. (III. i.)

I longed for the happy life, but was afraid of the place where it has its seat, and fled from it at the same time I was seeking it. I thought I would become very miserable if I were deprived of the embraces of a woman. I did not think the medicine of Your mercy could heal that infirmity because I had not tried it. (VI. xi.)

I was an unhappy young man, wretched as at the beginning of my adolescence when I prayed You for chastity and said, “Grant me chastity and continence, but not yet.” I was afraid You might hear my prayer quickly, and that You might too rapidly heal me of the disease of lust which I preferred to satisfy rather than suppress. (VIII. vii.)

So Augustine was a slave of lust and sex. He lived with a concubine for 15 years, and when he made her leave due to an arranged marriage, he took another. When we was saved, he lived the rest of his life in abstinence, but beforehand, he was addicted to love.

Even if education, esteem, or entertainment don’t define our pursuits, our culture is awash in lust. It is a modern day Carthage, a hissing cauldron of lust. Though I realize not all young people are as sexually active, I would guess most of here have struggled, or are currently struggling, with slavery to lust. It only loosens its grip occasionally. But we are in love with love. We want to love and be loved.

Now we’re getting close to understanding why repentance is so key, and why our repentance is often so ineffective.

Why don’t we repent?

Or maybe another way to get at that question is, what is the common thread in each of the sins that enslaved Augustine? It wasn’t only that they replaced God or that each one broke His standard. Why were they such powerful masters? It is because they brought him pleasure. He was terrified that he would miss those delights.

My sin consisted in this, that I sought pleasure…not in God but in His creatures, in myself, and in other created beings. (I. xx.)

The single desire that dominated my search for delight was simply to love and to be loved. (II. i.)

I aspired to honours, money, marriage, and You laughed at me. In those ambitions I suffered the bitterest difficulties; that was by Your mercy–so much the greater in that You gave me less occasion to find sweet pleasure in what was not You. (VI. vi.)

Vain trifles and the triviality of the empty-headed, my old loves, held me back. They tugged at the garment of my flesh and whispered: “Are you getting rid of us?” And “from this moment we shall never be with you again, not forever and ever.” And “from this moment this and that are forbidden to you for ever and ever.”…They were not frankly confronting me face to face on the road, but as it were whispering behind my back, as if they were furtively tugging at me as I was going away, trying to persuade me to look back….The overwhelming force of habit was saying to me, “Do you think you can live without them?” (VIII. xi.)

Then listen to his new response after conversion.

Suddenly it had become sweet to me to be without the sweets of folly. What I once feared to lose was now a delight to dismiss….Already my mind was free of “the biting cares” of place-seeking, of desire for gain, of wallowing in self-indulgence, of scratching the itch of lust. And I was now talking with You, Lord my God, my radiance, my wealth, and my salvation. (IX. i.)

That’s why he prayed:

Bring me to a sweetness surpassing all the seductive delights which I pursued. Enable me to love You with all my strength that I may clasp Your hand with all my heart. (I. xv.)

Here is the key to Augustine’s life, and the key to repentance. Repentance is more than turning away from the bad, it is turning toward the better. It begins with remorse and renunciation, but it does not stop there. Repentance must involve a reorientation of our pleasures. Therefore, repentance is a doorway to delight.

John Piper,

Far too much Christian thinking and preaching in our day (including Reformed thinking and preaching) has not penetrated to the root of how grace actually triumphs, namely, through joy, and therefore is only half-Augustinian and half-biblical and half-beautiful. (56)

When we think about repentance, we tend to think of the negative, what we must avoid. We think about what we’re giving up, not what we’re gaining. We stay in the room with the sins that we think make us happy. We turn toward the door of repentance, but we’re afraid to go through the door and shut it behind us. We act like the only reason for repentance is because the standard tells us we should. We don’t get that God turns man to take greater pleasure in praising Him, because He made us for Himself, and our heart is restless until it rests in Him.

Sin is the hindrance to repentance, yes. But it is the deceiving, sweet pleasures of sin that make us such willing slaves. Any misery in repentance shouldn’t be from losing old joys, but from having spent so much time away from the true joy.

Conclusion

Kenny Chesney song, “Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to go now.” Get their wings and fly around.

God could be letting us go, enjoying vain things, as a punishment, or in His providence, to make us hate that life.

Won’t we give up the joy of pride? It is a heavy burden to always be making much of something of so little value: ourselves. Humility is a much lighter load for the repentant. Won’t we give up our desperation to be liked and loved? Repentance frees us for peace in Christ, even when we’re alone in this world. Won’t we turn from blindness to receive sight? Won’t we turn from poverty to receive His riches? Won’t we stop toiling for righteousness when we could be clothed in His? Won’t we give up laziness for real rest? Won’t we repent from anger and let Him take revenge?

Let us buy gold, white garments, and eye-salve from Him. It starts with repentance.

[A]re we in bondage to the pleasures of this world so that, for all our talk about the glory of God, we love television and food and sleep and sex and money and human praise just like everybody else? If so, let us repent…and let us pray: O Lord, open my eyes to see the sovereign sight that in Your presence is fullness of joy and at Your right hand are pleasures forevermore (Psalm 16:11). (Piper, 74)

Augustine of Hippo may be the most important man in church history. German historian, Adolf Harnack, called him the greatest man “between Paul the apostle and Luther the Reformer, the Christian church has possessed” (quoted in Piper, The Legacy of Sovereign Joy, 24). Of course, Luther himself was an Augustinian monk for many years, and my personal hero, John Calvin, quoted Augustine no less than 342 times in the fifth and final edition of his Institutes of the Christian Religion. B.B. Warfield summarized Augustine’s impact as follows:

His direct work as a reformer of Church life was done in a corner, and its results were immediately swept away by the flood of the Vandal invasion…[but] it was through his voluminous writings, by which his wider influence was excited, that he entered both the church and the world as a revolutionary force, and not merely created an epoch in the history of the Church, but has determined the course of its history in the West up to the present day. (quoted in Piper, 24-25)

We owe much of our thinking and theology to Augustine, in particular, “our developed anthropology and soteriology, our understanding of the Bible’s teaching on the relations between human sin and divine grace” (Nick Needham, “Augustine of Hippo: The Relevance of His Life and Thought Today”, 39). We stand downstream in the torrent of his teaching on original sin and the sovereignty of God.

There are a few reasons, however, that understanding his life and thought is difficult for us. First, Augustine lived from AD 354-430, so we are removed almost 1600 years from his culture, language, and experience.

Not only does the time gap present us with challenges, but also the volume of his writings is overwhelming. Few can claim to have read everything written by him, and none can claim to read everything written about him. There are more than five million words in his recorded works (remarkable considering he had no computer, or electricity). There are approximately 3500 word in this message, so it would take 1428.5 messages added together to reach five million words (or, a little less than four and a half years straight of snow retreat with six sessions a week). Benedict Groeschel, a Catholic historian, wrote an introduction to Augustine’s life and said,

I felt like a man beginning to write a guidebook of the Swiss Alps….After forty years I can still meditate on one book of the Confessions…during a week-long retreat and come back feeling frustrated that there is still so much more gold to mind in those few pages. I, for one, know that I shall never in this life escape from the Augustinian Alps. (quoted in Piper, 45).

The other difficulty is that, among those five million words, it is possible to find things that contradict, and some that we would say are clearly unbiblical. For example, I hate Augustine’s allegorical interpretation of numerous Old Testament passages (for example, his approach to the narrative in Genesis). Worse than his hermeneutic, Augustine seems to have attributed special, if not saving power to baptism. We do not agree with him here at all.

But for all that, I am convinced, as much as ever, that we need Augustine for our souls and for our churches, which in turn would change our culture. I’ll explain why I think he’s so helpful and try to make my case as we follow two lines of thought this morning, the chronology of his life and the confessions of his life.

The Chronology of Augustine’s Life

In one respect, Augustine’s life was typical. He was born, lived like a sinner until God saved him at age 32, then he became a pastor, and shepherded the same flock until he died. On the other hand, Augustine lived no homeschool or Christian school life. And as is the case for every Christian, God’s work in his life through people and providence is a cause for praising God’s grace. Let’s take a jet tour of his 75 years and then come back to why he’s so valuable.

354 – Thagaste

Augustine was born November 13, 354, in Thagaste, a small city in northern Africa. His father, Patricius, was a poor, unbelieving farmer, though his mother, Monica, was a devoted Christian in the Catholic church (since that was the only orthodox church). His father didn’t profess faith until one year before he died when Augustine was 16, but Augustine later lamented that his father

did not care what character before You I was developing, or how chaste I was so long as I possessed a cultured tongue–though my culture really meant a desert uncultivated by You, God. (Confessions, II. iii.)

366 – Madera

From 366 to 369, between the ages of 11 and 15, Augustine was sent away for schooling in Madera, about 20 miles from Thagaste. His father wanted his son to have the best education possible; education was the only way out of poverty for a young man like Augustine. He was “acutely anxious to be accepted, to compete successfully, to avoid being shamed, terrified of the humiliation of being beaten at school” (Brown, 35). After those three years, he spent a year at home (370) before leaving for more school.

371 – Carthage

Carthage was the big city. Boys from small towns all over northern Africa came to study, and to play, in Carthage. Augustine came to Carthage as a 17 year-old full of lust.

I went to Carthage, where I found myself in the midst of a hissing cauldron of lust….My real need was for You, my God, who are the food of the soul. I was not aware of this hunger. (Confessions, quoted in Piper, 47)

Augustine discovered the theatre in Carthage, and wrote “it was a world ‘full of reflections of my own unhappiness, fuel to my raging fire’” (Brown, 39). His only shame was that he wasn’t as bad as his friends.

I went on my way headlong with such blindness that among my peer group I was ashamed not to be equally guilty of shameful behavior when I heard them boasting of their sexual exploits….I went deeper into vice to avoid being despised, and when there was no act by admitting to which I could rival my depraved companions, I used to pretend I had done things I had not done at all, so that my innocence should not lead my companions to scorn my lack of courage, and lest my chastity be taken as a mark of inferiority. (II. iii.)

He took a concubine, who we might call a live-in girlfriend, or more palatably, a mistress, and lived with her for 15 years. It was socially acceptable, but never acceptable to his mother. In five million words he never mentions her name, even though she bore him his only son, Adeodatus.

Augustine was a slave to the praise of men and the love of women. For all his external success and advancement, a dissatisfaction grew within him.

373 – Thagaste/Carthage

He went home to Thagaste for a couple years to teach grammar, then returned to Carthage for nine years (374-383) to teach rhetoric. During this time Augustine became part of a religious cult, the Manichaees. Basically, these followers of Mani were dualists who believed in an eternal battle between the spirit that was good and the flesh that was evil. This temporarily soothed Augustine’s guilty conscience, because Manichaeism claimed sin wasn’t really the person’s fault, it was his body’s fault. Manichaeism was so heretical that Augustine’s mother didn’t even let him back in the house.

Ironically, he grew tired of the apathetic, out of control, rebellious students in Carthage.

383 – Rome

He moved to Rome when he was 29, believing that there were better students there. He was wrong. The students would skip out on the teacher before the final class and their tuition was due.

384 – Milan

Desiring to get away, burnt out by pathetic students and the politics of Rome, he moved to Milan after only one year. Most significantly, he met the bishop, Ambrose. Augustine was enthralled with Ambrose’s teaching style as well as his explanation of parts of the Bible Augustine had misunderstood. Now 30 years old, Augustine realized many of his previous objections to Christianity were wrong.

During his time in Milan, his mother had arranged a marriage for him. In her eyes, this would make Augustine proper. In his eyes, it was a way to advance his career. He sent his concubine back to Africa, though he said, “this was a blow which crushed my heart to bleeding. I loved her dearly.” (quoted in Brown, 88). He got for himself another. He was unwilling to let loose of, and unable to escape, his lusts.

That is until 386. We’ll come back to cover his conversion in a couple minutes, but after getting saved, Augustine returned to Thagaste in 388. His mom died in 387, and soon after, his son died.

391 – Hippo (Regius)

He wanted to start an monastery now that he was a Christian. Hippo was a fairly large city, and more importantly, the church already had a bishop, so Augustine figured he would be free from public responsibility. Much like John Calvin, however, he was soon pressed into the role of assistant bishop (396), and five years later he became the primary bishop, and served the church in Hippo for almost 40 years until his death in 430.

For a number of years, he spent his mornings arbitrating legal cases. I can’t imagine how much I would hate that; Augustine hated it too.

Augustine would visit jails to protect prisoners from ill-treatment; he would intervene, tactfully, but firmly, to save criminals from judicial torture and execution; above all, he was expected to keep peace within his ‘family’ by arbitrating in their lawsuits. Augustine would listen for hours while families of farmers argued passionately about every detail of their father’s will. (Brown, 195, 226)

He was heavily involved in writing against the Manichaean heresy, and during the last few years of his life, he debated Pelagius over the issue of man’s depravity and the place of God’s grace. Augustine himself listed over eighty heresies he had fought against (Brown, 35-56).

Possidius, a friend of Augustine, wrote about him as a “man who ate sparingly, worked tirelessly, despised gossip, shunned the temptations of the flesh, and exercised prudence in the financial stewardship of his see” (“Augustine,” Wikepedia, accessed January 3, 2009.)

Personally, I tend to think he was a bit of a momma’s boy. I also suspect that after salvation, he fell a little too far toward the “fasting” side and missed out on the “feasting” side of enjoying God’s gifts to His people. Yet I have come to love Augustine as a tenacious pastor and a prolific author, who wielded a worldview always ready to magnify God, and who had remarkably great optimism regarding God’s work in and through the church. He was constantly trying to resolve tensions that were within himself, learning and making progress till his death. He loathed his sin, lauded grace, and loved God’s Word.

In [Augustine] we discover heart and mind married in an intimate union where deep, thoughtful theology, rooted in Scripture and never afraid of condemning error, nonetheless burns and sings with a spiritual vibrancy that makes most modern piety seem pale and sickly by contrast. (Needham, 43)

But the reason I find him so compelling, the reason I think God graciously chose to use him as an instrument to change the world, is because he saw sin for what it really is. He loathed his sin and lauded God’s grace.

The Confessions of Augustine’s Life

Augustine intended for the Confessions to be much more than an autobiography. He wrote this book at the age of 43, and it covers the first 33 years of life up to his conversion.

The entire book is a prayer to God, and contain , as we might suspect, his confessions of sin. Augustine is not the hero, or even the main character of the story. He portrays himself as wicked, and when doing well, the he directed the credit away from himself. In his Retractions (written near the end of his life around AD 426/427 to correct or annotate his previous works),

The thirteen books of my Confessions whether they refer to my evil or good, praise the just and good God, and stimulate the heart and mind of man to approach unto Him.

In a letter to his friend Darious (429),

Accept the books of my Confessions which you have asked for. Behold me therein, that you may not praise me above what I am….If there is anything in me that pleases you, praise with me there Him whom I wish to be praised for me–for that One is not myself. Because it is He that made us and not we ourselves; nay, we have destroyed ourselves, but He that made us has remade us.

The Confessions were, therefore, primarily about God, not Augustine.

[It is the very purpose of this book] to give the impression that Augustine himself was a weak and erring sinner, and that all of the good that came into his life was of God…this whole account of his life history…up to its crisis in his conversion is written…not that we may know Augustine, but that we may know God: and it shows us Augustine only that we may see God. (BB. Warfield, Studies in Tertullian and Augustine, vol. 4 in The Works of Benjamin B. Warfield (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1920; reprint, Grand Rapids: Baker, 1991) 267).

Augustine’s intimate love for God emerges in little phrases like, “God of my heart,” “God my sweetness,” “[God] my late joy.” (Brown, 167) The Confessions narrate the change in Augustine’s heart (Brown, 169), and exhibit the enormous difference between confessions that focus on God and confessions that focus on self.

On the first page of Confessions, he swiftly and succinctly summarizes man’s greatest joy, and the reason why men so often fail to experience that joy.

You stir man to take pleasure in praising You, because You have made us for Yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in You. (I. i.)

Men are made by God to worship Him, not out of duty, but for their delight. Our Creator formed us in this . The Confessions contains Augustine’s personal testimony of his restless heart’s journey to God. It is the story of empty, yet enslaving sinful pleasures that kept him from the greatest pleasure, God. It recounts the increasing misery and unhappiness of his soul with “ferocious honesty” (Brown, 171).

As he grew from infancy into boyhood, he noted

I myself was meanwhile dying by my alienation from You, and my miserable condition in that respect brought no tear to my eyes. (I. xii.)

He had heard the truth, but he was indifferent and ignorant, a slave to “seductive delights” (I. xv.). He also understood that it was part of God’s judgment to let men remain in blindness, “By Your inexhaustible law You assign penal blindness to illicit desires” (I. xviii.), yet those the Lord loves, He disciplines. “There can be no surprise that an unhappy sheep wandering from Your flock and impatient of Your protection was infected by a disgusting sore” (III. iii.).

But he still could not escape his lust. “The single desire that dominated my search for delight was simply to love and to be loved” (II. ii.).

I was in love with love, and hated safety and a path free of snares….I was without any desire for incorruptible nourishment not because I was replete with it, but the emptier I was, the more unappetizing such food became. So my soul was in rotten health. (III. i.)

Sin makes a person stupid. Even though the further one moves away from God, the more miserable he becomes, he also becomes less interested in returning to God. God gave Augustine what he (thought he) wanted in order to make him more miserable.

I aspired to honors, money, marriage, and You laughed at me. I those ambitions I suffered the bitterest difficulties; that was by Your mercy–so much the greater in that You gave me the less occasion to find sweet pleasure in what was not You. (VI. vi.)

I was full of my punishment, but I shed no tears of penitence. (VII. xx.)

God was systematically showing him what sin really looks like.

You took me up from behind my own back where I had placed myself because I did not wish to observe myself, and You set me before my face so that I should see how vile I was, how twisted and filthy, covered in sores and ulcers. And I looked and was appalled, but there was no way of escaping myself. If I and You once again placed me in front of myself; You thrust me before my own eyes so that I should discover my iniquity and hate it. I had known it, but deceived myself, refused to admit it, and pushed it out of my mind. (VIII. vii.)

He was a slave to his sin, until God saved him. In Milan, at the end of August, 386, he and a small group of friends hosted a Christian man, Ponticanus, who told Augustine and his friend Alypius about the monks in Egypt and of their founder, Saint Anthony. While Augustine listened, his heart burned with guilt and he withdrew into a garden beside the house.

I threw myself down somehow under a certain fig tree, and let my tears flow freely. Rivers streamed from my eyes, a sacrifice acceptable to You, ad (though not in these words, yet in this sense) I repeatedly said to You: ‘How long, O Lord? How long, Lord, will You be angry to the uttermost? Do not be mindful of our old iniquities.’ For I felt my past to have a grip on me. It uttered wretched cries: ‘How long, how long is it to be?’ ‘Tomorrow, tomorrow.’ ‘Why not now? Why not an end to my impure life in this very hour?’

As I was saying this and weeping in the bitter agony of my heart, suddenly I heard a voice from the nearby house chanting as if it might be a boy or a girl (I do not know which), saying and repeating over and over again, (Tolle lege, tolle lege) ‘Pick up and read, pick up and read.’ At once my countenance changed, and I began to think intently whether there might be some sort of children’s game in which such a chant is used. But I could not remember having heard of one. I checked the flood of tears and stood up. I interpreted it solely as a divine command to me to open the book and read the first chapter I might find….So I hurried back to the place where Alypius was sitting. There I had put down the book of the apostle when I got up. I seized it, opened it and in silence read the first passage on which my eyes lit: ‘Not in riots and drunken parties, not in eroticism and indecencies, not in strife and rivalry, but put on the Lord Jesus Christ and make no provision for the flesh in its lusts’ (Romans 13:13-14).

I neither wished nor needed to read further. At once, with the last words of this sentence, it was as if a light of relief from all anxiety flooded into my heart. All the shadows of doubt were dispelled. (VIII. xii.)

God can even use the “bulls’-eye” approach to Scripture reading. The journey of his restless heart finished as God granted him repentance and faith. So he would say,

You called and cried out loud and shattered my deafness. You were radiant and resplendent, You put to flight my blindness. You were fragrant, and I drew in my breath and now pant after You. I tasted you, and I feel but hunger and thirst for You. You touched me, and I am set on fire to attain the peace which is Yours. (X. xxvi.)

Conclusion

Augustine had a powerful and profound impact because he accurately identified the real problem, in his own heart and in the church. The problem was not low self-esteem or bad parents; the problem was sin. He also accurately understood the solution to the problem was not more of the world, but more of God. He saw sin, not only as an offense before God, but as an obstacle between he and God. Sin lied to him, telling him that it was good. God helped Augustine see sin for what it is, and that God Himself was his best good.

We need Augustine’s insight on the misery of sin so that we too can see it for what it really is: a hindrance not only to holiness, a hindrance not only to heaven, but a hindrance to happiness in God. Augustine hated sin because it spoiled his delight in God. That is the kind of person God uses to change the world.

A few years before his death, on September 26, 426, a large congregation gathered as Augustine was to install his successor, Eraclius. After the decision had been officially recorded, Eraclius stood forward to preach, while the old Augustine sat behind him on his raised throne. “The cricket chirps,” Eraclius said, “the swan is silent” (Brown, 408). Just the opposite has been true for 1600 years. We should thank God for His loud voice through Augustine.

We know now, after 1600 years, that Augustine’s conversion was monumental in Church history. I can’t think of anything he would celebrate more, than if someone here repented, by God’s grace, from their sin like he did. We may not affect the church for two more millennia, but angels will rejoice in heaven as eagerly as when God called Augustine’s restless heart back to Himself.

Things are not good. Nations are at war, babies are being aborted, businesses are collapsing, and people are sad, lonely, and empty. Yet it would be difficult to prove those realities based on how we’re acting. We’re still making jokes, buying lattes and Big Macs, renting movies and downloading music, and otherwise acting like everything is fine. It doesn’t really make sense; indifference to the problems, or ignorance that there are problems, won’t fix the problems or make them go away.

Things are not good in the church either. Christians and denominations bicker back and forth, influence on the culture seems nonexistent, truth is sparse, and people are sad, lonely, and empty. Yet it would be difficult to prove these realities based on how we’re acting. We still show up on Sunday with smiles and handshakes, perform silly skits and sing superficial songs, desperately trying to prove to our unchurched friends that we can do all the same fun things they can, with Jesus along for the ride. It doesn’t really make sense; indifference to the problems, or ignorance that there are problems, won’t fix the problems or make them go away.

Things are not good in our souls either. Our doubts and fears war within us, our faith and our morality are crumbling, we feel distant from God and from one another, so we are sad, lonely, and empty. Yet, other than an impulsive, unguarded status update on Facebook, it would be difficult to prove those realities based on how we’re acting. We keep consuming the latest entertainment offerings from the world. We adopt the world’s priorities and values at home, at school, and at work. It doesn’t really make sense; indifference to the problems, or ignorance that there are problems, won’t fix the problems or make them go away.

What’s wrong with us? Perhaps the problem is that, in general, we are spiritually dumb, sinfully fat, and superficially happy. If Jesus visited us today, what would He say about our condition? I have a guess. I think He might confront us much like He confronted the Laodicean church in Revelation 3:14-22.

“And to the angel of the church in Laodicea write: ‘The words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the beginning of God’s creation.

“‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see. Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent. Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me. The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne. He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’”

Exiled on Patmos island for preaching the gospel, the apostle John wrote the book of The Revelation of Jesus Christ from a vision he received from the Lord around AD 90 (a little less than 60 years after Christ’s ascension). Chapters two and three of Revelation contain Christ’s letters to seven churches: Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyratira, Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea. Only two of the seven are commended without any correction; only one of the seven receives no commendation whatsoever: the church in Laodicea.

Laodicea was located in the Lycus Valley, one of the tri-cities along with Colosse (10 miles east) and Heiropolis (six miles north). Laodicea was a large, often visited city, and well-known for at least three things. First, it was a wealthy city. In AD 60, a large earthquake destroyed the city along with a few neighboring cities. The Laodiceans refused financial aid from the Roman, Imperial government, rebuilding from their own resources. At least some of the city’s wealth was due to the second well-known product of Laodicea: soft, glossy black wool. The third well-known feature of the city was a pagan school of medicine famous for various healing compounds, in particular the production of salve for eye-diseases.

The city of Laodicea could have been extremely powerful, but their greatest weakness was their water supply. As the city grew, the small Lycus River could not provide adequately for the needs of the population. Engineers built a channel from Colosse, a combination above ground aqueduct and underground conduit, the remains of which are still visible today. In solving the issue of water quantity, however, the Laodiceans encountered another problem with the water quality, a fact Jesus used to illustrate the problem in the church.

The church in Laodicea was likely started by Epaphras, the same person responsible for the church in nearby Colosse. The apostle Paul connected the two churches in his letter to the Colossians (2:1) written in AD 62. By the time John addressed the Laodicean church in AD 90, things were not good.

And to the angel of the church in Laodicea write: ‘The words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the beginning of God’s creation.

John wrote, but he wrote on behalf of Jesus Christ (the resurrected Lord described in Revelation 1:4-6, 12-16). To the Laodicean church, Jesus identified Himself as the Amen, that is, the one who is sure and certain. In Jesus, all of God’s promises are guaranteed. He is the faithful and true witness; He will not exaggerate or misrepresent. He can be believed. And He is the beginning of God’s creation, in other words, He is the preeminent one (cf. Colossians 1:15-20), and He was not pleased with what He saw.

Jesus offered no commendation to the Laodiceans whatsoever, and immediately launched into His indictment.

The Indictment (vv. 15-17)

As He did with each of the previous six churches, Jesus asserted His knowledge of the congregation’s condition, then leveled the following formal charge against the Laodiceans.

I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.

Jesus knew their works, but this was not simply a reference to their external, public behavior. The entire paragraph (vv. 14-22) reveals that His indictment included a thorough familiarity with their internal, personal attitude as well. Works merely displayed the posture of their hearts.

The works of the Laodiceans revealed at least two problems.

1. Indifference (vv. 15-16)

Jesus confronted the Laodicean apathy with one of the most memorable word pictures in all the Bible.

You are neither cold nor hot. Hot and cold are temperature extremes, and the illustration would have connected immediately with the Laodicean consciousness. Water was a daily issue for them. Though they tried to fix their problem with external sources, the solution ended up creating it’s own problem. By the time the cold water crossed from Colosse to Laodicea, it was no longer cool and refreshing, nor was it hot like the hot spring water in Heiropolis. Cold was warm, hot was tepid, both were useless. More than that, Jesus declared that sort of water was disgusting.

Interpretation questions surface regarding whether hot and cold are simply illustrations, or if both represented profitable uses, or if one was good (hot) and the other bad (cold). I’ve gone round and round over the intended meaning since I was in college. Obviously Jesus is confronting indifference and apathy, but is He saying Christians should be either refreshingly cold or therapeutically hot, not in between? Or is He saying it is better to be spiritually on fire or spiritually antagonistic rather than on the fence?

In the context, hot clearly represents spiritual fervency. It is commanded by Jesus in verse 19, “Be zealous,” and both the imperative (ζήλευε) and the adjective (ζεστὸς) here in verse 16 come from the same root (ζέω) meaning “to boil.” Figuratively the word meant to be stirred up emotionally, to be enthusiastic, or to be on fire.

I have also come to believe that cold represents open, outright obstinacy to Jesus. It isn’t that the cold don’t know. They do know, and they’re honest enough and take it serious enough to reject the truth. The cold have no interest in Christ whatsoever.

But could Jesus really mean this? Why would Jesus wish anyone to be cold, that is, in open rejection of Him? Even if our experience tells us that straightforward rejection is, at least in some respect, easier or better to deal with, does this passage actually teach it? I now think yes, based on the second part of the indictment seen below.

No matter what, being lukewarm is intolerable. Revelation 3:16 is the only occurrence of the word lukewarm (χλιαρὸς) in the Bible. These were the in-betweeners. The congregation in Laodicea was diluted, if in fact, there were any true believers at all. The church was worldly and their Christianity was nominal. It was not good.

The tepid spiritual temperature sickened Jesus. It disgusted Him like nothing else: I will spit you out of My mouth. Other translations say, “spue” (KJV) or even “vomit” (YNG). The point is, indifference is repulsive. Apathy is nauseating. Jesus is saddened by the lost, angered by the self-righteous, but He was and is sickened by the lukewarm, and wants nothing to do with them.

2. Ignorance (v. 17)

Verse 17 elaborates on lukewarmness by revealing the root of indifference. The Laodiceans were lukewarm because they failed to see their true condition.

For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.

What a dreadful branding they received at the end of verse 17: wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. Each adjective depicted their spiritual state. The darkest affliction, however, was that they didn’t even know it. They saw themselves as just the opposite. They claimed I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing. They thought they were really cooking. They thought they had arrived.

At best their perspective was naive, more likely they were arrogant, but worst of all they were deceived, not realizing that [they were actually] wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. They were ignorant of their true condition. Wretched refers to those in emergency requiring urgent help. The pitiable were those whose hopes had been smashed. The poor were penniless. The blind were visually impaired and naked were physically exposed. The Laodicean church was living in a spiritual fiction. Their presumed prosperity was actually poverty. Their souls were bankrupt. They supposed they had no need, failing to recognize that all they had was need.

The lukewarm, then, are the pretenders, the hypocrites, those in the “church” whose profession is unaware of, or unattached to reality. They presume that they are hot but in reality are not.

Jesus is not leveling a charge against baby Christians who understandably encounter growing pains. Instead, His holy impatience and disgust is with those in the church who are indifferent to Him and ignorant of their real spiritual condition. This might be an unbeliever who thinks he’s a believer, or perhaps a willfully immature believer who refuses, at least for a time, to acknowledge his need.

At least the cold know that they’re cold. At least their rejection cards are on the table to be dealt with. That kind of person we can talk to; that kind of person Jesus understands. But the lukewarm is vomited out. The Laodicean church was characterized by spiritual lukewarmness. Sadly, so are many of our churches.

The Instruction (v. 18)

Sin not only offends God, it ruins us. It not only robs God of His glory, it also steals our joy. Sin makes us soul-poor. Sin exposes our shame. Sin blinds us. Therefore, the restoration of spiritual prosperity begins as we abandon sin, renounce self-sufficiency, and seek all our good in Christ.

I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see.

Herein is the Lord’s gracious instruction. He counsels the Laodiceans to buy what is priceless, to purchase great spiritual benefits though they were bereft of any personal resources. Christ pressed the Laodiceans to do business with Him; He was (and is) the sole-supplier of these goods.

He listed three objects for them to buy: gold, white garments, and eye-salve. Each of the three objects struck close to home for the Laodiceans, known for their wealth, their wool, and their medicine. But Jesus wasn’t opening a competing marketplace on an adjacent corner, He was offering spiritual commodities with transcendent worth.

There is little doubt that Jesus’ advice deliberately echoes the call of the LORD in Isaiah 55:1-2.

Come, everyone who thirsts,
come to the waters;
and he who has no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without price.
Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,
and your labor for that which does not satisfy?
Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good,
and delight yourselves in rich food.

God will make us spiritually rich if we come as beggars. The bank account of our hearts will be full if we admit emptiness. God will clothe us in purity and righteousness, if we strip off our own. And He will open our blind eyes, correcting our vision of our condition and into His truth, if we confess our inability to see. In a word, His spiritual gifts are granted to those who repent.

The Imperatives (v. 19)

There is only one approach to receive His generous gifts offered in verse 18. There is only one path to escape spiritual poverty, shame, and blindness. There is only one source of fulfillment, honor, and sight. There is only one program to exchange indifference and ignorance for intensity, only one way to avoid being spit out of Christ’s mouth: repentance.

Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent.

According to verse 19, Jesus doesn’t leave the ones He loves in a lukewarm condition, at least not for long. He will reprove and discipline; He will correct and train. In this context of spiritual lukewarmness, the design of Jesus’ discipline is to fire up His beloved.

At least two implications stand out about Christ’s loving correction. First, do we realize that conviction is a blessing? If we don’t know something is wrong we’re unlikely to seek a remedy. Perhaps our current misery is a training grace to turn our attention to the One who makes rich.

Second, do we realize that indifference is a judgment? Apathy is bad. Ignorant apathy is worse. Being left in ignorant apathy is the worst! God curses us when He affords us with what we think we want. Unchecked unconcern not only leaves us in the ditch, it also demonstrates we are not loved by Jesus.

I’m afraid this is where many in our churches are today. Things aren’t good, around us or in us, and we don’t care. We go on, desperately trying to act like things are okay. Our affections are lukewarm. But if our love is regularly running low, we may be experiencing God’s judgment, not His blessing.

He doesn’t allow His own to go on unaware forever. His tender, loving discipline brings those He loves to repentance.

So be zealous and repent. These are the two imperatives. The indictment is not final or irreversible, if we will repent. “Lukewarmness is not necessarily terminal” (Thomas 318), and that is good news.

The first command is Be zealous. It confronted the predominant Laodicean problem. Jesus required His followers to be hot, on fire, boiling over with zeal. The command to be zealous comes first for emphasis, but second in sequence.

That’s because the spiritual heart-fires spark when we repent. Proper passion is the result of repentance, otherwise we could be (presumably, and incongruously) excited about being cold.

Repent fundamentally means “change one’s mind.” [In order to start at the beginning repentance is required.] Repentance includes ownership of our wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked state. Repentance makes no claims of possessing what we need. Repentance turns from self-sufficiency, self-righteousness, and self-justification. It comes with empty hands to the only One who can fill them.

We wrongly think about repentance as giving up what we really love for what someone told us we should like better. With reluctance we turn away from what was sure to please us in the past, even though the pleasure was temporary. But we miss that repentance is not a turning from pleasure to empty handedness. Repentance is a turning from a mirage of pleasures to the real, highest, and substantial pleasures. He makes rich! He covers our nakedness! He opens our eyes to finally see what is truly glorious! And the doorway into spiritual fullness is repentance.

The Invitation (vv. 20-21)

The richest, most cherished fellowship awaits the repentant.

Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me. The one who conquers, I will grant him to sit with me on my throne, as I also conquered and sat down with my Father on his throne.

Jesus is close. He says, I stand at the door and knock. Differing arguments are made as to whether Jesus stands at the door of unbelievers’ hearts, or at the door of sinful, lukewarm believers’ hearts, or if He was standing at the actual door of the Laodicean church.

The singular pronouns indicate a personal rather than corporate knocking: “if anyone,” “come to him,” “eat with him,” “he with Me,” “the one who conquers.” At the same time, the passage is addressed to the church. Therefore, I think the invitation is to those who were in the church, who may have been indifferent to, and ignorant of, their spiritual condition. The ones who didn’t even realize what they were missing are now graciously summoned to intimacy with their Master.

Jesus is pictured as the master returning to his house (cf. Luke 12:35-36), whose servants should be alert, attentive, and eagerly awaiting their master’s arrival. They know that the master is their good, not the things that he left behind in his house. Jesus offers Himself to the repentant, to those who give up their ignorant claims to prosperity, who want Him more than anything else. Of course, only those He loves will actually get up and open the door.

Jesus emphasizes sweet communion, eating face to face with His servant over dinner. No other relationship in the universe provides such soul fulfillment. For that matter, no other religion in the world offers a man such personal intimacy with His Lord.

Even more, as He did with the previous churches, those who conquer or overcome will reign with Jesus on His throne. This promise anticipates the rest of the book of Revelation, the King’s second coming, and the final destiny of the world. The invitation is to fellowship that begins now and that we will enjoy forever. But, as the entire paragraph makes clear, that intimacy is a result of repentance.

Conclusion

We learn much about seven churches’ problems in Revelation 2-3. Five of the seven addresses include the command to repent, by the way: Ephesus for lost love, Pergamum for failing to confront false teachers, Thyratira for allowing sin in the church, and Sardis for sleeping. But the last church addressed, the lukewarm Laodiceans, may be the closest parallel to us. Their presumed spiritual prosperity was really poverty, and Jesus implored them to be zealous and repent.

How can we fix our broken hearts, our broken churches, and our broken culture? Is it possible for our souls to be spiritually rich and righteous? Is it possible for our churches to be spiritually hot and bright lights in our culture? The answer is a resounding Yes! And what we need is repentance.

Things are not good, yet we are indifferent, and worse, ignorant of our indifference. We often fail to see sin for what it really is. Sin deceives us, offering us substitute, short-term joy of second-rate quality. Our churches suffer as a result. As our personal interests are worldly, so are our corporate programs. As our souls are apathetic, our local bodies grow perilously anemic.

We need a change. We need repentance. We need Augustine. Similar to today, “The congregations who heard Augustine preach were not exceptionally sinful. Rather, they were firmly rooted in long-established attitudes, in ways of life and ideas, to which Christianity was peripheral” (Peter Brown, Augustine of Hippo, 247). He “preached to men who thought they knew what the Christian life consisted of” (ibid., 244).

Maybe more than anyone else in church history, Augustine of Hippo wrestled with blinding, joy-stealing sin. He was afraid to let loose of his lusts for fear that he would lose joy.

But in his Confessions, Augustine described God’s sovereign reproof and loving discipline that lead him to repentance. We will consider his life and his teaching this retreat as someone outside our century, who may give us perspective and remedy for the problems in our own day. By God’s grace, we may have our eyes opened. Or, as John wrote in Revelation 3:22,

He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.

Will this week be a turning point in your life?