This is the story of two men. One of them is a saint in our Episcopal calendar of saints. We observe his feast day on June 24, and every year two Sundays in the four week season of Advent are dedicated to readings about him. His name is John the Baptist.
The other is a man who was imprisoned for 27 years, sentenced as insurrectionist. This man feared the thought of being elevated to sainthood. He himself said “One issue that deeply worried me in prison was the false image that I unwittingly projected to the outside world: of being regarded as a saint. I never was one, even on the basis of an earthly definition of a saint as a sinner who keeps on trying.” This man died earlier this week, and his name was Nelson Mandela.
This is a story of these two men and a pivotal word in the story of each of them. The word “repentance.” Repentance.
Before we go further into their stories we need to look more deeply into that word — repentance. It is a word with which I don’t think many of us are comfortable these days. It either sounds old-fashioned, conjuring up as it may images of old time preachers preaching fire and brimstone and lengthy sermons with titles like “Sinners in the hands of an angry God.” Repentance to many of us brings back the words of an earlier communion liturgy in which we “acknowledge and bewail our manifold sins and wickedness…provoking most justly thy wrath and indignation against us.” And for many others of us the word “repentance” may have lost its meaning altogether — a quaint old fashioned churchy word with no relevance to life as we know it today.
Yet “repentance” in the depths of it true meaning is profound, and potent, and cuts to the heart of our existence as human beings.
Repentance involves looking deep within our hearts. Examining our souls. Shining the light of truth on our actions. The 13th century founder of the Order of Poor Clares, St. Clare of Assisi once said that we are to place “your mind before the mirror of eternity; your soul in the brilliance of glory! And transforming your entire being into the image of the Godhead Itself.” The deep meaning of “repentance” means to stare into the mirror of our hearts and asking ourselves: “are my thoughts, my behavior, my actions in alignment with who God created me to be?” That is the beginning of repentance. And the next step, if the answer is “no”, is to then change directions, to realign ourselves with who we know God created to us to be. Because the simple, yet profound meaning of the word “repent” is to change direction. Change course. Adjust the trajectory of where we are headed. Not grovel and scrape and see ourselves as utterly miserable and depraved. But take stock. Take inventory. Gaze into the mirror of eternity. And then take concrete steps to change course.
With this understanding of “repentance” in mind, let us proceed with our story of two men: John the Baptist, saint in our calendar of saints. and Nelson Mandela who feared being elevated to sainthood.
On the banks of the Jordan River, John the Baptist calls people to repent. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come.” And this struck a chord with the people of Jerusalem and Judea and they came in droves and sought him in the wilderness. They heard his invitation to take stock, committed themselves to changing course and then were baptized by him. Baptism: that outward and visible sign of our inner transformation.
But there were a group of people — two groups actually — whom John turned away. Without giving them a chance. Without giving them the benefit of the doubt that they too might be sincere in seeking him out to commit to changing the direction of their lives. Without hearing their stories, without acknowledging that they might also be coming to the Jordan River to express repentance and seek baptism, John dismissed and condemned them out of hand. “You brood of vipers!!” he said to them. Dismissing them, judging them, condemning them, excluding them.
Why?
Because these people were not of his kind. John the Baptist was an Essene, one of the Jewish denominations within his time and place and these people were not. They were Pharisees and Sadducees — member of other denominations. It almost doesn’t matter what the underlying beliefs of all the various sects were. What matters is that John saw them as “other,” as “those people.” They were not like us, not true believers. So he dismissed them. Cut them off. Judged and excluded them. Because it’s us and it’s them and therefore it’s us against them. John the Baptist preached repentance, but when St. Clare’s mirror of eternity suddenly presented itself before him in the persons of these Sadducees and Pharisees he, John the Baptist stopped short going the distance. When faced with the real presence of his enemies, he succumbed to the all-too-human response of judging them and pushing them away. He preached repentance, but in the deepest sense of the word he was not able to put it into practice.
Understandable. Human. Which of us has not succumbed to that all-too-human response? You are my enemy, you are other, it will always be thus. I cut you off. I distance myself from you. I judge you. I condemn you.
Once in a great while, someone comes along who is able to go the distance. Someone who for whatever reason is able to actually repent. Actually able to change course in a way so dramatic, so transcending, that the result is felt far beyond that particular individual and his or her own particular situation. Once in a great while someone is actually able to place their mind before St. Clare’s mirror of eternity and let its searing light illuminate what is within. And the result is a transformation not only of that person’s very, but a transformation of the lives of the people around them and and once in a great while, the very course of history itself.
This, I believe, is the legacy that Nelson Mandela has left the world. Not that he was a saint in the sense of one who was sinless or blameless (as he himself was the first to admit). Not in the sense that everything he touched or did was flawless and pure and perfect, again, as he himself was the first to admit. But the legacy he has left the world is the witness of what can happen when one person looks deeply into the eternal mirror, deeply into his or her own heart, examining his or her thoughts and feelings and motivations and potential actions and repents, in the deepest sense of that word. Commits to changing direction.
Consider this. You have been sentenced to prison for rest of your life and you are only in your early 40’s. You believe you are innocent. You have a wife and young children. You are sent to a prison on a cold island off the shore of your homeland and there you do hard labor — breaking down stone into gravel. Work so hard it damages your eyesight, leads to serious illness. In the core of your being you believe yourself to be innocent and the system which subjugates your people to be evil. What would your thoughts be? What would your prevailing feelings be?
And yes, for many of those 27 years of imprisonment and hard labor Nelson Mandela’s thoughts and feelings were, most understandably, rage, anger, bitterness, hatred. But during that long time of imprisonment and hard labor, something began to shift in the mind and heart of Nelson Mandela. He found himself before the mirror of eternity and began to experience a transformation of his entire being. He began to experience repentance in its deepest sense of the word. He began to change the direction in which he was going, acknowledging the depth of his anger, hatred, and bitterness but also realizing, as he said to Bill Clinton years later: “Oh, yeah, I hated them for a long time. I stayed alive on hate for 12 years. I broke rocks every day, and I stayed alive on hate. They took a lot away from me. They took me away from my wife, and it subsequently destroyed my marriage. They took me away from seeing my children grow up. They abused me mentally and physically. And one day, I realized they could take it all except my mind and my heart. Those things I would have to give to them, and I simply decided not to give them away. And as I felt the anger rising up, I thought to myself, ‘Nelson, They have already had you for 27 years. And if you keep hating them, they’ll have you again.’ And I said myself, ‘I want to be free.’
And as he left prison, after 27 years, Nelson Mandela said “As I walked toward the gate that would lead to my freedom I knew that if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind…I’d still be in prison.”
That is what true repentance looks like and sounds like. That is the journey of repentance that Nelson Mandela took — a transcending of the utterly understandable response of rage and bitterness to a place of true forgiveness (which ultimately frees us more than it does our those we forgive). And from the repentance of that one man came events that far exceeded our imaginations: a reaching out to former enemies to come together, to work together for the common good. A commitment to a process not of revenge and condemnation but rather of Truth and Reconciliation. A Nobel Peace Prize shared with the leader of the former ruling party, ruling class, ruling race which had imprisoned him for 27 years. A humility that led him to serve only one term as president instead of succumbing to the temptation to be hailed ruler for life as so many of his contemporaries in neighboring African countries did.
Nelson Mandela’s life is a testimony to the power of what can happen when we commit to not just preach but actually put into practice John the Baptist’s call to “repent.” Putting that word into the hard work of placing ourselves before the mirror of eternity, examining our hearts, minds, and actions and then committing to changing direction if they are not in alignment with who God created us to be can lead to a profound transformation of ourselves and perhaps even the world around us.
Perhaps Nelson Mandela wasn’t a saint, as he feared some might think of him. But he did show us that bringing about, even in some measure, the world envisioned by Isaiah in our first reading, a world in which “the wolf shall live with the lamb…,” a world in which sworn enemies, can come together for the greater good, his legacy is to show us that world is possible.
Nelson Mandela passed into God’s greater kingdom three days ago. But for those of us who believe light will always prevail against darkness, those of us who hold fast to the hope and promise of Advent, we know that life is not ended but changed and his legacy of both truth and reconciliation shines on. Well done, good and faithful servant. May you rest in peace and rise in glory. AMEN.
