Tag: repentance

  • John the Baptist

    The Wild Prophet

    Photo by Tobias Bjørkli on Pexels.com

    When we think about John the Baptist, we tend to picture a ragged, half-crazed desert preacher — camel hair for clothes, wild honey in his beard, shouting about repentance while dunking people in the Jordan River. A supporting character at the beginning of Jesus’ story. The opening act before the main event.

    In my opinion, we’ve sanded down his rough edges a little too much.

    John the Baptizer wasn’t just a quirky preacher paving the way for Jesus. He was a societal disruptor. A revolutionary. A wilderness prophet who stood outside the system not just geographically, but theologically. He wasn’t just announcing Jesus; he was embodying a radical shift — one we still wrestle with today.

    Let’s take a deeper look at the man Jesus called “the greatest among those born of women” (Matthew 11:11).


    Photo by Ron Lach on Pexels.com

    The Wilderness Prophet

    John didn’t preach in the temple. He preached in the wilderness. That alone should be setting off all the lights on your dashboard. Something more is going on here just beneath the surface.

    In Jewish thought, the wilderness wasn’t just a location. It was a symbol. Chaos. Testing. Transformation. Israel wandered there for forty years. Prophets met God there. Jesus would be tested there.

    And John? He didn’t just visit the wilderness. He became it.

    • He wore camel’s hair and a leather belt — the uniform of Elijah (2 Kings 1:8), signaling that he wasn’t just another preacher but a prophet in the old tradition, standing in defiance against the powerful and idolatrous.
    • He ate locusts and wild honey — food of the poor, the unclean, the untamed.
    • He rejected the privilege and status of his priestly lineage (his father, Zechariah, was a temple priest) and instead lived on the fringes of society.

    He wasn’t a prophet within the system. He was a prophet who was raging against the system.


    Repentance: More Than Feeling Bad

    John’s central message boiled down to one word: “Repent!”

    But the Greek word used — metanoia — doesn’t mean “feel bad for your sins.” It literally means “change your mind,” or more deeply, “go beyond your current way of thinking.”

    John wasn’t calling people to wallow in guilt. He was calling them to wake up. To see differently. To think differently. To change their mind.

    Repentance wasn’t about religious rule-following. It was about freedom — stepping out of old patterns, old assumptions, old ways of being, and into something new. It was about loosening the grip of fear, power, and control so people could be in a state to recognize the Kingdom that Jesus was bringing.

    My friends in Convictions actually released a song all about this type of spiritual shift aptly titled “Metanoia” and if you’re in to Metalcore you should check it out!


    Underwater Swimming” by Tim Marshall/ CC0 1.0

    Baptism: A Radical Act of Rebirth

    Baptism wasn’t new. Ritual washing was already a part of Jewish tradition. But as with most things in the scriptures: John did something different. Something new.

    In the temple, ritual washing was about purity — preparing to enter God’s presence. It was something you did repeatedly, cleansing yourself over and over.

    John took it out of the temple and into the Jordan River. And suddenly, it wasn’t about ritual purity anymore.

    It was about death and rebirth.

    Going under the water was a symbolic burial of the old self. Rising up was a step into new life. A life not defined by Rome, not controlled by the temple, not shackled by fear.

    It wasn’t about being clean. It was about being free.


    The Baptist and the Lamb

    Then one day, Jesus showed up at the river.

    John saw him and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29)

    It’s easy to miss how shocking that was. The crowd would have expected a Messiah described as a lion — a warrior-king, a liberator.

    But John calls him a lamb — a symbol not of power, but of sacrifice.

    John saw what others missed. Jesus wasn’t coming to conquer through violence. He was coming to conquer through self-giving love. Flipping the whole thing upside down.


    What John Means for Us

    John’s life wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t safe. It ended in a prison cell, with his head on a platter.

    But his radical message still echoes:

    • Go to the wilderness. Sometimes you have to leave the familiar — the systems, the beliefs, the comforts, the noise — and go out into unadulterated creation to hear God clearly.
    • Repent. Not by beating yourself up, but by letting go of the old familiar ways that no longer serve truth or love.
    • Step into the water. Leave behind what’s false. Rise into what’s real.
    • Point to the Lamb. Even when people expect a lion or a king. Even when they want power and control, point to self-giving love instead.

    John reminds us that sometimes, the way to prepare for new life is to step outside of the old one — even when it’s messy, uncomfortable, or lonely.

    Because the wilderness isn’t where life ends.

    It’s where new life begins.

  • Teshuvah: Repent or Return?

    If you grew up in church, you probably heard the word repentance a lot. Maybe it was shouted from a pulpit, written on a sign, or used in altar calls:

    “Repent, or burn in hell!”

    “Repent and be saved!”

    “If you died tonight, would you go to heaven or hell?”

    For many of us, repentance meant fear—a desperate attempt to stay on God’s good side. It wasn’t about transformation; it was about avoiding punishment.

    Repentance was something we did when we felt guilty, when we messed up, when we knew we weren’t enough. It was tied to shame—the deep, gut-wrenching feeling that not only had we done something wrong, but that we were wrong.

    How many times did we sob at the altar, begging God to forgive us, only to walk away feeling like we were never quite clean enough? How often did we promise to be better, to stop sinning, to try harder—only to fail again and spiral into self-hatred?

    And the worst part? The cycle never ended. Guilt. Shame. Fear. Try harder. Fail. Repeat. I must’ve been “saved” at that youth group altar at least a hundred times and still it never felt like it “stuck”.

    This was “repentance” as we understood it—a painful, never-ending struggle to make ourselves acceptable to God so he wouldn’t send us to hell.

    But what if I told you that this isn’t at all what repentance was meant to be? That the original Hebrew concept of Teshuvah is something radically different—something healing, something freeing?

    Teshuvah: More Than Just Saying ‘Sorry’

    The word Teshuvah (תשובה) is usually translated as “repentance,” but that translation barely scratches the surface. Teshuvah comes from the root shuv (שוב), which means to return.

    It’s not about groveling before an angry God. It’s not about wallowing in guilt. It’s about coming back home.

    Teshuvah is the realization that you were never meant to be lost. That even when you wander, the way back is always open. That you are not a filthy sinner begging for mercy—you are a beloved child, made in the image of the divine, finding your way back to wholeness.

    Breaking the Cycle of Shame

    One of the most damaging things about our modern idea of repentance is that it keeps us trapped in shame. Shame isolates. Shame paralyzes. Shame tells us we’re broken beyond repair.

    But Teshuvah offers something entirely different: healing.

    Instead of saying, “You are a failure, and you must pay for your mistakes,” Teshuvah says,

    “You have lost your way, but you are not lost forever. Come home.”

    Instead of saying, “You are defined by your worst choices,” Teshuvah says,

    “Your past is not your identity. Who you truly are is deeper, truer, and has always been connected to the divine.”

    Instead of saying, “You must earn forgiveness,” Teshuvah says,

    “You are already loved. The path to healing is open—step into it.”

    Teshuvah as a Path to Transformation

    Teshuvah isn’t a one-time event. It’s not just about asking for forgiveness. It’s a lifelong rhythm of waking up, realigning, and returning to who you were created to be.

    Jewish wisdom teaches that Teshuvah has four essential steps:

    1. Recognizing the misalignment – Honestly acknowledging where you’ve gone off track. And that’s all it is. Stepping off of the path.

    2. Feeling true remorse – Not guilt, but a deep realization of what has been lost.

    3. Making amends – Repairing what has been broken, especially in your relationships, actions, or intentions. My AA friends know all about this step and how crucial it is.

    4. Committing to change – Becoming someone who, given the same situation, would choose differently. Not about doing anything, but about who you are, what you believe about yourself, and what you believe about the world around you.

    And here’s the most radical part—Teshuvah doesn’t just erase your mistakes. It transforms them.

    In Jewish thought, when Teshuvah is done from a place of deep love and sincerity, even past sins can become merits. The very things that led you away can become the very things that bring you closer to the divine. Your story isn’t ruined—it’s redeemed.

    Teshuvah and the Teachings of Jesus

    Jesus, as a Jewish teacher, absolutely understood Teshuvah. When he spoke about “repentance” in Greek (metanoia), he was talking about a fundamental shift in perception—a transformation of consciousness. He wasn’t calling people to wallow in guilt, but to awaken to something greater.

    Think about the parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15). The son leaves home, squanders everything, and finally realizes he needs to return. He expects shame and punishment—but instead, his father runs to embrace him. That’s Teshuvah.

    Jesus wasn’t preaching fear-based repentance. He was showing us The Way home.

    Living a Life of Teshuvah

    So what does this mean for us today?

    It means that whenever you feel lost, you are never too far gone. The way back is always open.

    It means that your past does not define you. Mistakes aren’t final. You are still becoming. Your power has never been in the past or thew future anyways. It is right here with a present awareness. This is why we meditate, focus on the breath, and pray.

    It means that the love of God is not something you have to earn—it’s something you return to. Something you were born into.

    And it means that every time you wake up to love, to truth, to the divine, to the present moment, you are practicing Teshuvah.

    No more shame. No more fear. Just the open arms of a father, The Source, running to meet you on the road back home.

    And that, my friends, is truly good news.

    Welcome home.