Repent!

As we hit the second Sunday of Advent, the Gospel tells us to Repent – to prepare.

When I walk into the Cathedral (where I go for Mass), the first thing that strikes me is the colour purple everywhere. A symbol of a time of preparation. St John the Baptist howls to us from the wilderness that we need to prepare the way.

What does it mean to prepare the way today?

It was actually the Second Reading from Peter that struck me this week. There was a sense of time, and the infinite patience of God. A mention of a new heaven and a new earth. Fr Anthoni talked about this as when righteousness walks amongst us, which hit a nerve and spiraled my brain into a loop of thoughts.

What if we could see righteousness walk amongst us in our lifetime? How amazing would that be! I returned to that idea of repentance.

As humans, we spend far too much time – well I think I have anyway – wanting to change others because of how we feel when they treat us a certain way. Really, the only person we are responsible for changing is ourselves. It is my own repentance that I need to focus on.

What does it mean to repent? It takes an inner knowledge to fully comprehend the actions and words, thoughts and deeds. Only I can repent for my failure to be holy, and no-one can make me repent, perhaps you can make me atone or hold me accountable, but only I can work from a position of repentance.

This is the call (to me) this Advent. Instead of cleaning my home, I need to clean my soul. Instead of decorating a tree, I need to decorate my character. To answer the call of St John the Baptist in the wilderness, to prepare the way, to prepare the way for righteousness, I need to step away from the sin that I surround myself in, the habits that provide comfort in a challenging existence, finding the courage to face the failings that lie in me (not in others). In the words of St Augustine ‘My heart is restless, until I rest in you.’

There is a song I have been listening to a lot lately and it seems to just fit with this week of Advent. ‘Gracefully broken’ by Matt Redman. It is the broken vessel that lets the light in.