An Apology isn't Repentance

Something that Christianity teaches well is penance. But penance is not practiced well.

For most Christians, penance is giving up sweets in Lent or saying a few Hail Marys after confession. It’s a brief, solemn gesture. And that’s a start. Some Christian traditions don’t even have that. The Orthodox at least have stricter periods and rules of fasting. Penitential seasons like Advent and Lent force the Church into confront penance as a collective. We go into a more somber mode as a community. 

But do we actually repent as a community? It was recently Rosh Hashanah. In Judaism, the days between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are meant to be days of reflection and atonement. Atonement is paying the price of a transgression. It involves repentance, a contrite expression of remorse of the transgression. As Christians, we don’t focus so much on atonement, because we believe we cannot fully atone for our own sins; Christ atoned for us. So instead, there is the focus of repentance. We must sincerely remorse over our sins and want to receive atonement.

 

In a way, this was a radical, liberating teaching. There is no way to fully atone, and we don’t have to. We surrender to Christ who atones for us. Of course, true contrition and true surrender are not easy; it is a liberating yet difficult path.

But the problem comes when these ideas are applied in worldly matters. I transgress against my neighbor; I apologize; he in his mercy forgives me; all is well. But what if I’m not sincerely sorry? What if my apology was just a manipulative way to get out of trouble, knowing that he is morally bound to accept my remorse and show mercy? Then I can transgress again, without fear of consequence, because the onus is on my neighbor, the victim, to be merciful.

This is a common accusation thrown at Christians. That they can act hypocritically and immorally and get away with it as long as they say they’ve had a turn of heart and that they’re sorry. We are supposed to accept apologies, because we are called to be merciful, and we can’t know whether the apology is sincere or not. We see it over and over and over in the public sphere. The cycle of outrage, demand for a statement, a non-sincere apology, a brief retreat from the limelight, then a return to Hollywood, Washington, or whatever industry he came from. And we have to accept it; we have to forgive, because he apologized, and because it’s our duty to show mercy.

This is where I think penance is good. Our paltry penances rarely atone for our sins. But they do demonstrate actions. We can’t fully atone, but surely we should try to. What use is words without action? If someone sincerely repents, then they should take up their cross, not in punishment, but willingly. Let the turn from sin have a demonstrative turn. 

For the person whose apology is insincere, penance might work as punishment, a deterrent to bad actions. For the person whose apology is sincere, penance solidifies the determination to change one’s habits, to turn from sin in a demonstrative way. 

The Church is going through a chaotic time right now. Her hierarchy has done horrendous things. Bishop Knestout of Richmond lay down his staff, removed his ring, and lay prostrate in an act of penance that I found quite moving. Some laity feel called to repent as a Church—periods of community fasting, prayers, adorations, Mass intentions of repentance. I think those feelings are a valid and beautiful response, especially when it rises up from the laity who want to atone as a whole Church. Some tell them not to do so, that it’s not a laity problem; it’s a bishop problem, and the bishops shouldn’t make the laity feel guilty. Others tell them not to do it because it doesn’t actually accomplish anything, that it’s just empty gestures that don’t offer full atonement or bring justice to victims. But penance not about being made to feel guilty or bringing justice. It’s about expressing contrition, not to be seen and have one’s apology accepted, but for one’s own benefit. God offers the atonement. God offers the mercy. We offer the repentance.