4. (Prologue) “Repentance Unto Life” (Joel 2)

Joel 2

Welcome to the new kids.

How does it happen that God makes us beautiful?

Last week in Isaiah 60 we encountered God’s plan for you and me: his desire is to shine his light upon his—to help us to experience his grace through Jesus in such a way that we are made beautiful. And this beauty that we are given together as the people of God is meant to change the world.

This morning, I want to consider one key piece of that. What do we mean when we say God’s shining upon us is meant to change us? That sounds a little abstract, doesn’t it? How does it feel to be changed in this way? How does it happen? What role, if any, do we have in God’s work of making us beautiful?

We would be wrong if we imagine God working on us like a plastic surgeon, where one day God puts us to sleep and a few weeks later after we remove the bandages we discover ourselves to be someone who looks very different. The change that God in his love gives us is not something where we step back and just let God do his work. No, God’s transforming of us involves us, his making us into a beautiful community happens in us through ongoing, willing and active change on our part. 

According to Isaiah 55, just a few chapters before last week’s passage, here’s what that change feels like from our end: “Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the LORD, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.” The change that God is bringing us through as he shines upon us, the transformation that makes us beautiful feels more than a little bit like the u-turn we make after we’ve gotten lost. Isaiah speaks of the change we experience involving us recognizing we’re going in the wrong direction—“let the wicked forsake his way,” and, once we come to an understanding of the right direction, and we turn around, “Let him return to the Lord, for he will abundantly pardon.” 

The word the Bible uses for this life u-turn is “repentance.” 

The message that Jesus proclaimed is summarized in Matthew as having two parts: “The kingdom of God is at hand,” Jesus said. In other words,  “God is now bringing about his promise to make his people beautiful.” But then Jesus goes on also to say, “Repent.” “The kingdom of God is at hand—repent!” Because repentance is the human experience of God making us beautiful. It is how people take hold of God’s work. 

God’s Word declares that there is a life that God has for you and for me that is far better than the life we naturally cling to: a life of meaning, where we know what we are made for, a life of confidence and joy, where we know God’s love. There is a far better version of you that God intends for you to be than the person you are now—a version of you that is no longer self-absorbed or impatient or paralyzed by anxiety but genuinely loving and kind and beautiful. There is a better community, a better kingdom God intends us to enjoy. And what it also tells us is that the only way to enter into God’s beautiful future comes through us recognizing we are heading in the wrong direction and turning in the right direction. The way for us to become Christ’s beautiful church is through real, and ongoing repentance.

So how does this happen? How do we take hold of the life God has for us and become the people God has made us to be? How do we repent?

The book of Joel is one of the best places we can go to begin to answer this question, because repentance is really the single focus of his work. Like Isaiah, Joel is speaking to a people who have failed in their relationship to God and experienced the consequences of their failure. And in the middle of this book Joel charts a course, saying there is a way back; a way back to God, a way back to joy, and it’s through repentance.

So let’s explore a simple question: what does this passage show us about how we can repent?

How do we repent?

We’ve described repentance as a life-change, a u-turn. Joel adds for us some depth to help us better understand what we need to do. The change we’re talking about here is not just a change in what we do; repentance is a change that goes down to the core of who we are.

Painful Acknowledgement

There are a lot of reasons a person might change their behavior. When you’re driving on the highway, sometimes you notice cars in front of you suddenly slowing down for no apparent reason—until you see the police officer up ahead. This was a change of behavior, but it’s not repentance. Or if you have a messy room and after like the seventh time of your mom reminding you to clean your room you finally clean it—well, that’s a change of behavior, but it’s not repentance. Neither of these really involves a change in you, right?

But notice the change God calls for here: “Yet even now,” declares the Lord, “return to me”—there’s that focus on change in direction, but notice what it says next—”return to me with all your heart.” Repentance involves a change in behavior, but it’s more than that. True repentance involves a genuine heart change. And that change begins with an often-painful acknowledgment of wrong.

After God says “return to me” notice how he describes that returning: with fasting, with weeping, with mourning. All of these are expressions of grief. God’s point here is not that he’s wanting people to put on a great show. Neither is he speaking about whipping up some emotion—just make yourself miserable! When he says, “Rend your hearts, not your garments,” he’s talking about something that goes deep, that is sincere. He’s saying that the kind of change we need to make will involve a painful honesty about our wrongness. Repentance begins with us taking stock of our lives and recognizing that we’re wrong.

Why is it that when things really matter, it’s hard to say, “I was wrong?” When you’re having a deep and complicated conversation with someone you love, saying, “I was wrong” can feel almost impossible. Why is that? 

Well, it’s painful, right? It’s scary to acknowledge blame, because when we say, “I was in the wrong,” we relinquish control. We’re saying, “You have the right to be angry with me,” which is a frightening place to be. And on top of that, when we say, “I was wrong,” if we’re really honest in that moment, we’re not just admitting something about our actions. We’re admitting something about ourselves. The person who said that unkind thing a couple of hours ago wasn’t someone else; it was me. I spoke really insensitively when I was feeling defensive, which means there’s a part of me that in my insecurity is really insensitive. I forgot to do the thing I promised I would do because I’m self-absorbed, more interested in my own problems than others’. I failed to face a particular challenge because I lack the courage. To say with full honesty that I was wrong is to admit the painful reality that there is something in me that is wrong, that is unhealthy, that is sinful. Something in me that hurts people that is unpleasant, unlikable. Something that I don’t really know how to change.

Which is not only painful; it’s overwhelming. What do you do when you recognize deep problems about you that you have no fix for? Often, if you’re like the average person, the way you might “handle it” is by avoiding—we shut our eyes and pretend the problem is not there. 

I’ve mentioned before how when I was in Australia we drove an old Mitsubishi. There was a moment on one particular road trip when I noticed a needle on the dashboard pointing to a bright red H. I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but I suspected it wasn’t good, that it meant the engine was getting too hot. But I didn’t know what I should do about it, how to fix it. The car seemed to keep running okay, and so I just pretended it wasn’t there. I avoided. 

So, that clearly was dumb. Just like it’s dumb when we notice an ongoing pain in one of our teeth and we just try to will it away. Or we have a big assignment and just pretend it’s not there. We lie to ourselves—whether it’s about car problems, health problems, life challenges, and, perhaps especially, about problems deep within us, because in the moment it just feels easier.

But these things are dumb, because avoiding doesn’t make something go away. An ignored toothache leads to a root canal. Procrastinating homework leads to a miserable all-nighter. Ignoring an overheating engine leads to being stuck in the middle of a town named Ulladulla in Australia without any obvious way of getting home.

And avoiding the wrongness within you doesn’t it make it go away either. As long as we avoid, we keep hurting others, we keep hurting ourselves, we keep living in our stuck situation—we keep ourselves from God and the life he wants for us. 

If you really want to experience the change God desires for you, the repentance that you need, involves a painful recognizing of your wrong. When God is saying, “Fast, weep, mourn,” he’s not saying, “I want you to be miserable because of what you did.” No, he’s saying, “I want you to be free from what you did, and freedom can only happen when you honestly face not only the wrongness of your actions, but the wrongness inside of you.” 

Now that’s one important piece. But the change we’re talking about needs to involve more than just an painful acknowledgement.

Hope

The very reason we avoid is because already deep down we are painfully aware that we’re wrong. Sometimes, rather than avoiding, we berate ourselves, “Why do I keep doing this?” We punish ourselves. We feel frustrated. And we feel helpless. And so it’s not enough to just say, “Face the things that are wrong in you.” We’ve tried before, and we haven’t been able to change. Because awareness of the problem is not enough. 

The apostle Paul helpfully explains that what we’re experiencing in that moment that we feel overwhelmed and frustrated by our failure is what he calls worldly grief, a grief that he says is not able to free us from sinful stuckness. There is a different kind of grief, what Paul calls godly grief. Godly grief is able to bring about the real change of repentance. And the key difference is that godly grief has more than just awareness of wrong—it also has hope.

Notice in our passage that the call to repent here is about more than just stopping. It’s not simply a call to turn away, to cease from what is bad. It’s a call to move towards something—or, more specifically, towards someone. “Return to me,” God says. “Return to the Lord your God.” And then notice the encouragement that comes with this call: “Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love; he relents over disaster.” Here’s why you can repent, O Israel. Because despite all that you’ve done and all the wrongness within you, nevertheless, your God is gracious and merciful and abounding in steadfast love.

Admitting we’re wrong is scary, because it relinquishes control; saying to God “You have every right to be angry.” Every instinct in us is to protect ourselves. But here is something that allows us to let down our defenses and be genuinely vulnerable about our failings. The God you are turn to and acknowledging your wrong to: he is gracious and merciful—there is a vast reservoir of forgiveness and generosity in God that we cannot imagine. He is slow to anger—patient with us despite what we have done and who we are. Instead of holding all of our wrong against us, he promises to do the opposite and make things right.

In the opening chapter of Joel we discover that Israel has gone through great suffering involving a famine caused by locusts. And Joel makes it clear that this suffering is a consequence of their abandoning God and his protection. It is their fault. But now, look with me at verse 25: “I, God says, “will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten…[verse 26] “You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied.” 

I will restore to you what you have lost because of your own failure. Isn’t that great? This is the promise of the gospel: God says, “The sin that you confess to me I will not hold against you. I will wipe it clean. All that you lost because of your wrong, all the pain caused by your mistakes—it doesn’t matter how deeply you messed up; I will make it right. Your sadness will turn to joy.” We can say, “I was wrong” to our God and not be afraid.

Admitting you’re wrong is not just scary—it’s painful because we feel shame about what we are. So notice that God doesn’t only say, “I will make things right.” He says, “I will make you right.” Verse 28: “And it shall come to pass afterward that I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh.” This too is the promise of the gospel: the wrongness that is within you—those things about you that you are powerless to change, God says, I will heal. As you turn to me, I will fill you with truth, I will give you a heart full of love. I will make you more like me, because I will give my Spirit to be at work within you.

This, God says, is what awaits those who return to me. This is what awaits those who repent.

Do you see the power in this? If all we see is the wrongness of our wrong—the hurt we’ve caused and our inability to fix ourselves, we can only despair and hide in fear. But if we hear the promises of God, if we see his deep forgiveness and abounding grace shown most fully and completely on the cross, well that changes everything.  

The Westminster Shorter Catechism speaks of repentance involving a turning from sin not only out of hatred and grief over sin, but also out of apprehension of the mercy of God. Because only when we are able to see that it’s safe to acknowledge our wrong, only when we see that there is joy beyond our sorrow can we truly face our problems and turn to God.

Help

And yet, more needs to be said. Because here’s a sobering thought. These very words from God in the book of Joel were proclaimed to Israel thousands of years ago. Yet even as they invited Israel to acknowledge their wrong, even as they proclaimed hope in returning to God, they were not enough to change Israel. Even though repeatedly Israel acknowledges at one level their failure and seems to turn to God, like an addict that never seems to be able to quit, they keep going back again and again to their idols. What the whole story of Israel in the OT indicates is that somehow a deeper, greater repentance was required than they were able to give. 

And that should sober us. Because if they weren’t able to, why should we think we’re any more capable?

The Heidelberg Catechism that we confessed earlier helps us to understand the kind of repentance that’s needed, saying that repentance “is an ongoing dying of the old self.” The Bible tells us that to truly change as we need to, the acknowledging of our wrongness and turning from our old ways has to go so deep, that in a real sense it’s a kind of death. The repentance we need requires an end to our former self. Honestly, it’s a change too deep for us to make on our own.

Which is why Peter’s statement in Acts seems so important when he says, that through Jesus God has “Given repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins.” And then again later in Acts the apostles say, “God has given to the Gentiles repentance that leads to life.” The teaching of the gospel is that God has given to us what we could not do on our own—he has given us repentance.

When Jesus began his ministry, he chose to be baptized by John. If you’re familiar with the gospel accounts, you might remember that this baptism was spoken of as a baptism of repentance. Why would Jesus, who did no wrong, choose to repent? In the same way the apostle Paul tells us that when Jesus died, he “died to sin.” Again, we might ask, “How did Jesus die to sin? He never sinned.” 

The repentance Jesus’ displayed at his baptism and the death he died on the cross—this wasn’t for his sin—it was for ours. At the cross Jesus repented on our behalf for our sin—he grieved and he wept and he tore his heart on our behalf for our failure before God; at the cross Jesus put to death in his very body our old self. And on the third day he rose on our behalf to a new life lived unto God, filled with the Spirit. 

Jesus knew we could never repent in the way we needed to. So he repented for us. 

Paul puts it this way, “The death Jesus died, he died to sin once and for all, and the life he now lives, he lives unto God. You also should consider yourselves to be dead to sin and living unto God in Christ Jesus.” Do you understand his point? Jesus has given us the life-changing repentance we need.

Here’s something both mysterious and yet really important. When you or I turn to Jesus in faith, when having heard the gospel, we begin to painfully acknowledge our wrongness before God and turn in hope to him—you and I are never doing this alone. You are repenting with Jesus, and because you’re with him, your repentance is made full and complete. 

You don’t realize it or see it right now, but there is a future version of you brought about by Christ that has completely moved past all that is wrong in you—it’s all dead. there is a version of you in the future that is fully and completely joyful and loving and beautiful. And every day as you seek to live out this ongoing repentance, Jesus is at work in you bit by bit moving you toward this future you.

Which means that all that we’ve said to this point is true: the pathway to the life God has for you is through repentance; it’s through painfully acknowledging your wrong and in hope turning to the one who makes things right. And that pathway is never alone. Whenever out of faith in Christ you seek to turn to God—no matter how  weak or inadequate and halfhearted you repentance might feel, something real and lasting and transformative is happening—because it’s happening with Christ.

Conclusion

And so, given that, what is keeping you from doing something as turning from your wrong to the God who loves you?

There is an urgency to our passage. “Even now,” our passage begins—whatever that now is, now is the right time for you to turn. Look at verse 16 “Consecrate the congregation—that is, for a communal turning back to God. “gather the children, even nursing infants. Let the bridegroom leave his room, and the bride her chamber.” 

If a mom is nursing her infant, she should walk to the gathering and nurse at the same time. If a couple is about to get married, let the bride and groom leave their places at the altar to come; the marriage will wait. Because when you realize your situation and you realize your need to return to God—and, more than all of this—when you realize that you have someone who has given his life to make a way for you back, well, why ever would you wait?

Let’s turn to God now, “Seek the Lord while he is to be found. Call on him while he is near. Let us forsake the ways that are wicked and unrighteous. Let us return to the Lord, that he may have compassion on us. To our God, for he will abundantly pardon.”