The Kingdom of Heaven is at Hand

by Rev. Tom Thresher
January 27, 2008

Scripture:

Matthew 4: 12-17

Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he left for Galilee.  He did not stay in Nazareth but made his home in Capernaum, a town by Lake Galilee, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali.  This was done to make come true what had been written by the prophet Isaiah.

Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, on the road to the sea, on the other side of the Jordan, Galilee, land of the Gentiles!  The people who live in darkness will see a great light.  On those who live in the dark land of death the light will shine.

From that time Jesus began to preach the message, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”

Message:

Today I want to pick up on the notion of “repent” that Ed Evans spoke about a few weeks ago.

It never sounds right if you just say “repent.”  What you should say is “REPENT!!!!”  It’s one of those words that must be spoken in capitals. 

Normally when I do a sermon, I don’t write anything down, but during the week I develop a variety of ideas that will guide what I’m going to talk about.  This week, however, when I thought about “Repent, the kingdom of heaven is at hand,” it was like trying to accuse Ronald Reagan of wrong-doing….it just kind of slipped away.  Then last night I dreamed about it, which was even worse!  So I come to you today in a conundrum.

Let's begin with the Biblical context.  Our scripture refers to a community that lived in darkness and now lives in the light, apparently because of Jesus’ visit to their community. The suggestion is that whatever Jesus did it had at its core the phrase “Repent, the kingdom of heave is at hand” for he then heads out to tell everyone about it. If it’s that powerful – that transformative – I want to know more.

Today “Repent” carries judgment with it.  The implicit text is “Repent, you slimeball.  You’re no good, you’re lousy, and you will be forgiven only if you repent!”  That’s not what repent means, though.  The literal meaning, the Greek metanoia, means “turn around.”  It’s a very simple idea, deceptively simple.  And it begs the question “turn around from where, and to where.” Presumably, we are to turn away from everything that is not the kingdom of heaven.  Paraphrasing Jesus: “Turn around, the kingdom of heaven is right here.  If you have eyes to see and ears to see, you’ll see that it’s right here.”

The Charistmatics and Pentecostals understand this, at least in part.  When they say “repent,” they mean turn your life around and give it to Jesus.  They do a fabulous job of generating an altered state of consciousness wherein someone can genuinely, in that moment, turn their life over to Jesus.  Unfortunately, they then take this revelation and wrap it in a very small box of beliefs and dogma.  They exile the God who is ever-expanding, ever freeing us and shifts the convert’s allegiance into a narrow story and to other people who have authority over them.

But that’s the nature of Truth:  The greater the truth, the greater its capacity for perversion. And certainly the Charismatics and Pentecostals have discovered a great truth (surrender) can be perverted into a new and better prison for the soul.

So if repentance isn’t about that small story – about addiction to this experience of giving myself to God in an altered state – if that’s not what Jesus is talking about, then what is it?  When Jesus speaks of “repentance” what is he asking me to do?  He is asking me to turn from all that I think I am in this life – from being your pastor, from building a house with Pam, from all those thoughts, ideas and experiences that I cherish so deeply.  Does “repent” mean that I must turn around and walk away from all of that?  I don’t know about you, but when I think about turning away from all that I believe to be “me” – all the dreams that I have striven for in my life – it scares the hell out of me.  I think, “I just don’t want to go there.”

Perhaps if I really believed, without a single doubt, that the kingdom of heaven was right here, right now I could truly let go of “me”.  But another part of “me” screams “NO! Heaven is not really here now….you fool!”  Even though I know this is the panic of the “me” that may become irrelevant, it doesn’t matter.  Even though I, and others, have had many tastes of the kingdom of heaven, without the direct, abiding knowledge of the of the kingdom I don’t think we can repent in the way that Jesus is talking about.  I don’t think we can voluntarily turn away from everything that we think is us.  We find it so difficult to take our hands off the tiller and surrender our lives to the Mystery, to the great unknown. Yet, this seems to be exactly what is required to “go through the eye of the needle” and enter the kingdom.

I am reminded of the culmination of the Fellowship of the Ring by J R R Tolkin, where Frodo has to throw the ring of power into the fire.  He finds he is too attached to actually destroy it.  It is only when Gollum rips it off (with his finger) that the ring is destroyed.

The issue of repentance, and what Jesus was teaching, is as paradoxical, puzzling, and threatening as all of this suggests.  I don’t know about you, but I'm not sure how to respond.  I find myself in a quandary: “I don’t want the false repentance, and the true repentance is just too damn frightening.”

What I can do is ask.  What I can do is to admit that I don’t know how to give up who I think I am, that  I don’t know how to enter the kingdom of heaven on my own, and ask for help.  For it is a truism that Tom (the persona) will never become enlightened (saved), but that awareness will wake up and make “Tom” irrelevant.

And here is the other paradox: my awakening (salvation) is not my doing, it is as gift; yet I must walk to the edge of the cliff to receive the salvation.  I must exhaust every effort to become aware on my own.  I must “repent”, turn away from all that distracts me and attend to the silence within. Then wait.

That’s as good as it gets.  Hope abides, for there is something in each of us that does know that the kingdom is right here.  We stand on the edge pray for grace, for grace is eternal. 

Amen.