When trees are waving wildly in the wind, one group of people thinks that it is the wind that moves the trees; the other group thinks that the motion of the trees creates the wind.

The Big Picture

First words are important.

The first thing you say when you go on a date can make or break the future of the relationship.

My wife will tell you that our first date was, to be mild, underwhelming. We went to a mediocre restaurant, she had to pay because I had no financial resources at the time, and the meal included chicken fingers. Yes, fried chicken fingers.

Not exactly The Notebook.

Thankfully she stuck with me, but if she’d had higher expectations for that night or if she had only a mild interest in being with me, we likely would have gone our separate ways. First things are fragile, and first words can be dangerous.

Jesus’ first impression was unique because it came in the form of a bold and ambitious announcement: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near” (Matthew 3:2).

For much of my life, and perhaps yours, the word repent has come across with a pointed finger and a disgusted scowl, as if Jesus has “had it up to here” with me. I can’t hear the word repent without thinking of fire-and-brimstone preachers from my past using it like a verbal meat cleaver to separate sinners from their wayward paths.

If we ask a few questions and listen to what’s behind the word repent, a few things start to appear. For example, the audience for Jesus’ teaching on repentance was largely Jewish, people who already were technically God’s people.

How do you repent when you’re already part of the fabric of God’s great tapestry? This is why it was so troubling for me to hear the command “repent” as a teenager in the middle of the sweltering heat of a summer revival service. I was certain I had covered that ground already.

The people Jesus spoke to weren’t surprised either. Prophets had been saying for years that the people of God must turn from worshiping wood-and-stone gods and instead would trust him to make good on his promise.

Jesus was doing something different though.

The Invitation

A few months ago I was on an airplane, and since everything I had brought to occupy myself on the flight required an electronic device, I had some time on my hands as we went nose-first into the clouds.

I pulled out the in-flight magazine and noticed an ad that said, “Fly [airline].”

Maybe I’m the only one who reads things this way, but I noticed that it was phrased as a command. English-language experts will say this sentence is in the imperative voice. That’s the command voice. That’s the “parent” voice, if we’re talking to our children.

Look both ways.

Eat your veggies.

Get out of the cookie dough.

When Jesus says “repent,” it sounds a lot like “parent” voice. If you look at the original Greek word, bingo, it appears Jesus is going into Dad mode.

Imperative.

Repent.

I’m not asking, I’m telling you.

So back to the in-flight magazine: Should I have felt like the airline was giving me a command from on high? Honestly, I was already on that particular airline’s plane, so I didn’t need to be ordered around. Who did they think they were? But the thought occurred to me: Why don’t I feel like someone’s ordering me around when I read this?

The reason is that sometimes the imperative is a command, and sometimes it’s an invitation.

It takes some curiosity to unravel whether we’re hearing a direct command or an invitation because the line between the two isn’t always stark and clean. But what if there is something deep and good in finding that difference?

Or, if we really want to stir things up, what if all of Jesus’ imperatives are invitations? If people are already seeking God, walking with him in whatever way they may find, then what happens when they hear “repent” as an invitation and not a command?

What if  “repent” is actually the embossed invitation to a grand meal spread on a majestic table?

What if “repent” is the key to us walking backwards into our own story of trial, faith, and doubt, and seeing it all differently for the first time?

What if “repent” is not about the threat of hell or damnation, but instead it is the call to be formed differently?

What if “repent” means we see every teaching and action of Jesus as an invitation, and learn to ask question upon question about what that looks like in our story today?

What if “repent” is learning how to see the damp cloak of doubt as curiosity in disguise?

To repent means “a change of mind.”  The word both in Hebrew and in Greek affects thought and action—they are “head and hand” words. Literally, they mean to “turn one’s head” and “return” to where you’ve come from. Repentance then is both a once and a daily move of our whole soul toward God. It is a learning, unlearning, and relearning kind of journey.

If we read Jesus’ great announcement in this light, it sounds like this: “Come and think about things differently, because God’s plan and desires are coming to life right now.”

What can ordinary people do with that?

Converting Again and Again

The work and movement of God in ordinary people, the way we follow Jesus every moment of every day, is the great project of creating space for God to get his way in us. It surprises us and reimagines the way we see everything: from church to politics to sex to our social media presence.

That’s why he began with repent. Rethink. Reimagine. Relearn.

In Jesus’ time this relearning process was a necessity. Jesus’ walking in the world was a way of reimagining everything. The Jewish religious leaders and their people had expectations based on the wise texts of their ancestors who had also walked with God.

There would be a kingdom. A King. A new temple would be built, and a people would be brought back together under the Jewish law, the rich and holy instructions of God.

There would be peace, yes, far-reaching peace. The vicious Romans who occupied the land would be, ahem, moved off, and there would finally be safety and prosperity.

The vision of this kind of kingdom is what most of us live with every day, with or without Jesus. We transpose this vision onto what we believe about God, or we...