Repentance, Forgiveness, and Reconciliation are often confused and conflated. Here’s a brief description of them all.
Repentance
Repentance is choosing a different path. It is not “making space” for God to check our actions; He does not need our help in that area of our lives, mind, will, or emotions.
Forgiveness
Forgiveness is a gift we give ourselves, not the offender. It liberates us from the burden of being offended and holding onto grudges. It allows us to release those who have hurt us deeply, even after they have passed away.
Reconciliation
Reconciliation is where some sort (any sort) of remuneration is made on behalf of the offended by the offender. In reconciliation, the offended has the right to define the terms of the relationship moving forward. It might be fully restored, but it might not. Boundaries are a thing in reconciliation.
Ministers of Reconciliation
When we understand the totality of our Messiah’s work while grasping the difference between repentance, forgiveness, and reconciliation, we better understand why we are called “ministers of reconciliation” and not “ministers of God’s forgiveness.” (2 Cor.5:18)
While I agree with this sentiment in principle, it is worth noting that the commandment is not about how we use His name but how we take His name.
That commandment does not infer that speaking His name inappropriately is the primary or immediate concern. The sentiment above speaks more to religiosity.
It falls into the category of KJV-Onlyism: READ the right thing, BELIEVE the right thing, DO the right thing, BE acceptable to God.
Notwithstanding, the commandment directly addresses how His name must be personally appropriated, emphasizing its personal applications in relationship to Him alone.
Taking Names in Vain
Anyone can take the name Governor in vain because we all know there’s only one state governor.
Any business can give themselves the name IBM, but we all know that International Business Machines will eventually shut them down.
The Razorback football team can call themselves “Big Al,” but that does not change who they are, how they play football or the likelihood of them winning the SEC.
All of those examples demonstrate a name taken in vain. But let’s look at one more.
What it really means to Take His name in Vain
A person can get married and take their spouse’s name. In the previous century, it was not uncommon for the wife to be called by her husband’s name. I remember my mother being referred to as Mrs. Hugh Means, and certainly, Mrs. Means. So, let’s follow that thread to understand exactly what the commandment means.
If a woman marries a wealthy man, but then refuses to accept his care, or spend his money to care for herself and their children, she has taken his name in vain.
Taking God’s name in vain is similar but carries far greater consequences. To take His name in vain is to put yourself into His family (as a “child of God”) but refuse your role in His Kingdom.
“Who does that,” we might ask? We not only do that, but we teach that as doctrine. The people in the church who do that are known as Cessationists, those who fully reject these words of Jesus as being God’s Logos for us today:
“Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do, he will do also; and greater works than these he will do; because I go to the Father. ”
John 14:12
“And these signs will accompany those who believe: In my name they will drive out demons; they will speak in new tongues; they will pick up snakes with their hands; and when they drink deadly poison, it will not hurt them at all; they will place their hands on sick people, and they will get well.”
Easy believism ignores and discounts the requirement of personal responsibility. It says, “I can just believe and be saved.”
“So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead. But someone will say, “You have faith and I have works.” Show me your faith apart from your works, and I will show you my faith by my works. You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder!”
Faith is the confluence of belief, trust, and expectation. These three working together produce fruit. In the context of salvation by grace through faith (Eph. 2:8-10), the fruit (or works) of faith is repentance from sins.
Without trust and expectation, there is no accessing the Works (salvation) of the One who says, I can, and I will do as I promise. Without trust and expectation mixed with belief, there is no basis to act in repentance from sins, which are non-refutable qualities of the gospel of the kingdom of God.
So, to button it up: Is Jesus key? Yes. Can we access the salvation that Jesus provided through is death, burial and resurrection without repentance? No.
Would you like to learn about the Five Stages of the Miracle Experience? If so, read on.
Just as with the Five Stages of Grief, encountering a genuine, unexpected miracle compels one to navigate through these five stages. Similarly, akin to the stages of grief, it is possible to become trapped in any phase and prematurely terminate the process without full resolution.
Surprise
The initial shock and amazement at witnessing the impossible.
Denial
This is where we first deny and attempt to shift responsibility for what has just occurred in our presence.
Uncertainty
This stage is predominantly occupied with the question of “Why,” and doubting our memory of the events surrounding the miracle. We explore plausible, alternate scenarios to explain the miraculous.
Reasoning
In our struggle to comprehend the nature or meaning of the event, we attempt to stabilize our psyche through understanding and comprehension. We seek or construct answers as we develop a framework about its meaning and significance.
Acceptance
We accept the miraculous event as literal and natural for our relationship with God; we find peace and awe in the experience. Most importantly, our faith grows as a result. In other words, our “God Box” gets bigger.
You can ask me how I know, but I’m not telling. When you do experience yours, those steps above are generally how it will play out for you. And like grief, we don’t progress through these stages one after the other but jump between them during the process.
The Unexpected
This quality is important: the unexpected nature of the event pushes us into this processing framework.
Many of us have experienced what we may have called a miracle. But because of faith or disinterest, we immediately had a framework in which the experience was quickly processed, categorized, and perhaps even discarded.
When a person gives their life to Jesus, that person will be changed, never wanting to go back to their old sinful ways.
I wish it were that easy and simple. It never was for me. I became aware of some things—literally overnight—and some behaviors changed immediately. But through no fault of my own, others hung around for a lifetime.
Being a good Baptist, I learned how to thrive on the condemnation routinely spewed like raw sewage from the pulpit. I doubted my salvation; I prayed the sinner’s prayer weekly, if not daily, and confessed the same sins over and over, but nothing changed. So, I embraced the sewage and self-condemnation, figuring this was what I needed to keep me straight.
At some point in my journey, I had begun to learn Father’s voice—thanks be to God because the Baptists I hung out with couldn’t teach that if their lives depended upon it—when during one of my groveling confession sessions, Father spoke so clearly that had it been any louder, I would have heard Him with my ears, bellowing in the room: “Never confess those sins to me again. Don’t bring it to me if you don’t remember when it happened or remember doing it.”
For you see, I knew—as aptly taught—that I was just a worm, a sinner saved by grace, so it didn’t really matter what sin I confessed because, at some point, I’d certainly done it in some fashion. Hence, repeat, ad nauseam.
After that encounter, I didn’t pray again for two weeks because I had nothing else to say or talk about.
That was probably the turning point in my learning who I am in Christ.
It has been suggested that the definition of faith is believing in something without proof or evidence to substantiate said thing: a typical Evangelical Christian definition based chiefly on a verse found somewhere in the book of Hebrews (chapter 11, verse 1, to be precise).
However, I would suggest that there’s not only archeological evidence but also other tangible evidence that God is and keeps His word—the Bible, right?
After all, some say that today, God only speaks to us through the Bible.
So then, how is the Bible used, and what does it have to do with blind faith?
We use it as a historical record illustrating that God is trustworthy and His nature is Good. By any definition of the word, the Bible becomes our record of evidence of His existence and nature. But therein is the rub.
Using their definition, that faith must be blind, that faith must not rely on tangible evidence, then believing in and trusting God solely based on what one has read in the Bible does not constitute an application of faith, because – according to them – the very essence of faith must transcend the need for empirical validation resting instead on a profound sense of trust and conviction that is literally based upon nothing:
Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.
What we see, then, is that these people try to define faith as empty and convince you that faith is blind. They take Hebrews 11:1 out of context and propose a new, seemingly better definition.
However, in adhering to their wishes and using their own definitions, we discover their blindness to the very nature of their origins.
What do they possess, then? Nothing more than a commitment to a logical conclusion drawn from historical evidence found in both the Bible and extrabiblical sources – because their faith must be blind and based upon no observable evidence at all.
Really Understanding Faith
While our reference to the text of the Book of Hebrews is correct, and the words found therein are true, we must move beyond blind, unsubstantiated faith. Perhaps a further reading of the text will bring elucidation:
For by it {faith} the people of old received their commendation.
By faith we understand that the universe was created by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible.
By faith Abel offered to God a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain, through which he was commended as righteous, God commending him by accepting his gifts. And through his faith, though he died, he still speaks.
By faith Enoch was taken up so that he should not see death, and he was not found, because God had taken him. Now before he was taken he was commended as having pleased God.
And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.
By faith Noah, being warned by God concerning events as yet unseen, in reverent fear constructed an ark for the saving of his household. By this he condemned the world and became an heir of the righteousness that comes by faith.
In all of the examples provided, each one is backed up by tangible evidence.
The Word of God was spoken throughout history so that those from Adam and beyond knew from whence they came, this being the evidence of testimony.
How did Able know what to bring as an offering? Not through the Bible, but by having a living conversation with God – trusting and believing His testimony.
Enoch believed and trusted God that he would not see death but be taken up instead. He had reason to believe and trust God’s word.
Noah acted on God’s tangible word after being warned and instructed.
A Better Understanding of Faith
In any court, testimony is considered evidence. Even so, without trust there can be no faith.
Suppose you want to hire Yardman to mow your grass, as you have an acre of grass to maintain. To that end, you interview a few people.
The first person arrives with scissors and promises to show up on time every week. He asserts that he will cut your grass with his scissors and be done in about an hour. The second person you interview arrives with useful lawn equipment that seems to be seldom used. Your neighbors have warned you that he’s unreliable and may not show up but only once a month, if that. The third person arrives looking tattered, hot, and with grass clippings stuck in his hair. He provides, like the others, a fair price for the job.
Which one do you hire, and why?
You avoid Scissor Man because you don’t believe he can do the job.
You avoid Seldom Man because you don’t trust him to do the job.
You hire Tattered and Dirty Man because you believe he can do the job and trust that he will keep his word.
So, you hired the Tattered and Diry Man, because why? Because of the faith generated by the evidence provided.
The Scientific Method
Whether supernatural or natural, faith is always based on the evidence provided. It is generated and grows by believing the evidence and trusting its Maker. As such, the Scientific Method is the best example of our generation of natural faith.
Something is observed, and a curiosity is formed along with an idea of why the thing is. Tests are devised and investigated for their applicability and trustworthiness. The tests are performed, and the results are evaluated as conforming to the qualifications previously devised. Once the results are confirmed, we let someone else run the same experiments. The more times they’re run, the more times they show the same results, the more our belief in the original hypothesis and theories increase, along with the trust in the validity of the devised tests. All because of trust placed into the original systems of belief and the qualities of trustworthiness of the tests performed.
We have faith because we know the One who speaks, and we believe because we have found Him to be Trustworthy.
Thus, faith is never blind, regardless of how often someone removes Hebrews 11:1 from its context.
So, the next time someone tells you that faith is blind, ask them if they believe the Bible provides evidence of a Creator, Moral Giver, and Judge. If they assert that as true, then remind them they have simply believed a logical construct, seeing that their faith must, by their definition, be blind.
– I believed she was kind and respectful. – I believed she honored and loved me. – I believed she would do anything for me.
But now, I no longer believe in my spouse.
Today, I know her. I’ve moved beyond belief and into an experiential relationship. I know our relationship is one of kindness, honor, love, respect, and self-sacrifice toward one another. We have a root of relationship that transcends belief. I know my wife.
How many of us still believe in our spouse in the same way when we first met?
If that seems at least somewhat preposterous, then that’s how I feel when I see some people say, “I believe in God.”
There’s a time and a place for that position. But not after you’ve been walking with Him for many years.
If you’ve subjugated yourself to the authority of a pastor who suggests you must maintain your belief or your belief and faith are one and the same, then it’s time to move on to solid food.
It’s time to explore what a relationship with your savior actually looks like.
Hate is not an emotional response of disgust or simply disliking or loathing. It is the opposite of love, where love is defined as building something up and creating value in something or someone else. God so loved that He gave Life. And in giving Life, He destroyed (hated) the effects of sin.
Hate, then, is the action of destruction. While destruction often carries the notion of dislike and disapproval, the authentic action of hatred destroys that to which it is leveraged.
The Protestant churches I attended did a mediocre job of teaching that guilt of sin was transferred to the cross.
But they all excelled at keeping people in bondage to shame.
My therapist helped me work through shame by helping me understand that guilt is understanding that “I’ve done something wrong,” and shame is “I am badly made” or “I am wrongful in who I am,” either through my actions or the actions of others against me.
Guilt carries remorse, but shame carries anger and disgust against oneself or another.
Given the context of my therapy, I had a few problems with guilt, but boy, howdy, did I ever feel shame. Once I learned and accepted that I had done nothing wrong (no guilt), I then had to learn that I was not bad (or wrong), nor was I the cause of what happened to me because of who I am (or was).
I did not ask for, condone, or do anything to deserve my assault, and it was wrong for me to carry anger and disgust against myself resulting from that action against me.
We have a Savior that eliminates guilt – but perhaps does not remove you from the earthly consequences thereof. Shame, however, has no place in our lives: our Savior removes all of it.
In the opinion of the Religious, in what ways am I judged and responsible for my sins?
To My Wife:
Thank you for standing by me through the years, and through these struggles.
Thank you for encouraging me.
Thank you for lifting me up in prayer to our Heavenly Father.
What I most resent about my Baptist upbringing is the rigid legalism ingrained in me, serving as a constant yardstick against which I measured my worth.
Throughout my life, I operated under the belief that an angry —or, at the very least, discontented—God was judging me for not meeting His divine standards. The teachings of Sam Cathy resonated in my soul strongly:
If you skip church, God will not forgive you.
When you willfully sin, there is no sacrifice.
After we’re born again, God does not separate our sins from us as far as the East is from the West.
I dreaded facing the Judgment Seat of Christ, knowing that God would list all my moral and spiritual failings, showcasing them as the wood, hay, and stubble that evidenced my inherent unworthiness. Surely the gold, silver, and precious stones could only be reserved for those who did God’s work, those in the ministry – and perhaps a few special others.
I always assumed that my few accomplishments would ultimately be negated; after all, how could someone as inherently flawed as myself ever please God?
Yet, it was nothing short of infuriating and gut-wrenching when I realized that my so-called ‘sins’ were not simply the result of Adam’s original failing or my deliberate straying from the path. No, they were the ghastly outcomes of unresolved emotional and physical trauma that had silently guided my life, unbeknownst to me. The absolute atrocity of the unjust judgment and constant condemnation for elements of my life that were never in my control filled me with silent rage.
In other words, and in the opinion of the Sam Cathys of this world, in what ways am I judged and responsible for my sins, which were unwittingly guided, influenced, and directly seeded by the sins of others who, with malice and forethought, intentionally harmed me? For us, that’s a dark valley journey where only the fearless may walk and ponder1.
So here I am, the Recovering-Legalist, still recovering. I’m not as naive to believe that a world given to sin does not influence our decisions nor the spiritual death of our souls. But neither am I so naive as to think that my worldview, and consequently my broken belief systems that informed my actions, were purely my doing.
For I now understand that I had help. The people who assaulted me helped. The people who molested me helped. The Baptists who taught me legalism and condemnation helped. The Sam Cathys of religion, who taught me to earn the graciousness of God beyond the cross, helped.
I had help to get to where I found myself.
But today, I have found myself in the presence of the unwavering graciousness and mercy of God, who lifted me out of the pit of mirey clay.
Who, by the way, also raised someone else who found themselves in a very similar pit. A person to whom I will be eternally thankful. A person who helped me find, express, and heal the pain lingering in my soul.
You know who you are. Thank you.
Hebrews 4:12 (AMP) For the word of God is living and active and full of power [making it operative, energizing, and effective]. It is sharper than any two-edged sword, penetrating as far as the division of the soul and spirit [the completeness of a person], and of both joints and marrow [the deepest parts of our nature], exposing and judging the very thoughts and intentions of the heart. ↩︎
A Recovering Legalist 