Stories are so good. When we were kids, our favorite form of entertainment was to get one of the grown ups to tell us a story. The ones about ourselves were fun, but we really loved the ones about our parents. It gave us a thrill to imagine them as kids, to hear about their close calls and scrapes. The stories helped us grow as we imagined ourselves in the stories. Our faith stories help us grow, too. They give us a common language in which to dream, in which to remember where we came from, to shape us a people. During Advent we read our favorite story—the Christmas story—but we start at the ending and move backwards. Last week was the end of the world—God’s promise that human history has a goal, that it’s going somewhere. That “somewhere” is redemption, the “someday” in which God’s righteousness will be lived by all humans. The rest, as they say, is detail. Today’s detail is about repentance, because that’s how we get to the “somewhere” goal of God’s creation.

Repent! Repent! Haven’t we been hearing this for several weeks now? It may not be good news to you, friends, but “Repent” is John’s cry next week, too. Next week he gets downright mean about it. John is bigger than life, but that’s little excuse to have so many weeks in a row of “Repent!” The pregnancy doesn’t even come until the week after next, then suddenly it’s the birth and Christmas is gone!

It’s because of theology. “Getting ready” is one of the most important things Christians do. I love to paint. I love the grand scale of rollering a whole wall, I love the detail work of going around the windows and doors. I love doing it, and I love it when it’s done. What I hate is getting ready. I hate peeling and scraping, sanding, washing, letting it dry to scrub some more, priming and filling. And yet, any painter will tell you that the success of a painting project depends on the preparation work. When scripture tells us to “get ready,” it is the basis of all the important things we do as people of faith.

Of course, this is kind of hidden under layers of Biblish. Scholars speak of the Church as “being feminine before God”—both receptive and pregnant before God. Wait for the Lord. We are the now-and-not-yet Body of Christ, we are birthing the Incarnation of God into the world to be the hands and feet of God. Malachi calls this “righteous offerings.” John the Baptist lives the preparation of making paths straight, filling valleys, making mountains low and the crooked straight. I call it “the theology of showing up.”

The implicit question for both Malachi and John is, “What’s it gonna take?” Burning and purging, preparing for God’s righteousness—how can we stand it? Repent! My mom had something she’d say when we balked at doing our chores. We wanted to be paid, but if she said, “It’s what I’m not gonna give you--.” then we knew we’d better hop to, pay or not. Malachi and John cry “It’s what I’m not gonna give you--.”

If you are getting tired of “repent,” my lectionary discussion group is also getting thin on excitement about “Repent!” Last week they finally asked, “How much? What does ‘repent’ mean?” As near as I can tell, “repent” doesn’t mean, “feeling bad about what I did.” Man, if that were the meaning of “repent,” I’d have a corner on the market! But there is more to repentance than feeling guilty. If feeling bad were enough—even secretly feeling bad—why is repentance so consistently God’s call to Israel through the prophets? And why do we twitch at their calls? Because feeling bad isn’t enough . There is something fundamentally wrong with thinking it’s OK to take candy at the checkout without paying for it, as long as you feel bad about it. When someone apologizes to you, doesn’t it feel more genuine if the person says what they’re sorry for? “I’m sorry I ate all the plums. I’ll get you some more.” Or even, “I won’t do that again.” It seems to me that feeling bad for one’s actions, without a resolve to change the behavior, isn’t completely repentance. That’s where God’s promise of help in repenting comes in.

Thank God for promises. I’m told that just feeling bad about smoking isn’t enough to give up cigarettes. Even wanting to quit is often not enough. Most people need some help—patches, gum, hypnosis, therapy, acupuncture. The same is true for drinking. Most drinkers feel miserable about what their drinking puts their loved ones through. Without the help of God—or their Higher Power—remorse isn’t enough. God promises to help us with our repentance.

And this is where the Church, and the people who make up the Church, need to claim God’s promise. In Biblish, we call this “transformation.” Wanting to change, allowing God to change us, is an essential part of repentance. Unfortunately, we get confused sometimes. Sometimes we forget that it is God who is in charge of this. God is even in charge of “what” that transformation looks like. Sometimes things that I think of as my essential charms—willingness to volunteer, energetic problem-solving, creativity, wit—sometimes these are actually things of which I need to repent. Perhaps God needs to re-direct what I volunteer for, what I pour out my energy into, how far creativity goes, when jokes are appropriate. On the other hand, things I think are unattractive (even disgusting) characteristics of mine, God may have plans for. Stubborn-ness may become persistence, conviction. Stinginess may become good stewardship. Packrats may become librarians or historians.

What is at stake is where God is in this. If you are only in self-help programs, if you are hell-bent on changing your life through sheer will-power, you may be momentarily confused about who is in charge. During Advent, the call to repentance is also a call to pregnancy. A call to a time of expectant waiting. A call to showing up. A call to receiving, as Mary received, the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit.

Don’t think you’re off the hook because you are “too old to get involved.” Or that you are too young or too new in the faith to get caught up in God’s transforming work. Don’t think you can feel bad about who you are and what you do—and think that’s all God has in mind. This outrageous God of ours has a habit of making pregnant the barren old ones (think Elizabeth and Zechariah, think Sarah and Abraham, think Hannah). And in God’s best trick so far, the virgin—the one too young to get involved, the one too new on the block, the one who never tried this before—the virgin also gets pregnant.

We are so often human do-ings instead of human be -ings. Human be -ing ought to come first. To be a human be -ing is to be receptive to God. Receptivity to God is the most important attitude in scripture—God’s people called to God’s presence, open to God’s leading. This is the theology of showing up. Show up to God! Listen. Pray. Don’t tell God how to solve the problems of the world. Bring them to God--absolutely! Bring God all the problems and situations and people and challenges on your mind and heart. Then listen for where God is in those things. Listen for what God asks you to do. You’re not off the hook, of course. We’re Presbyterian. We believe God does ask us to act, but doing as a result of being.

Advent is not about Christians competing with the nation’s retailers and entertainment industry for the attention of the faithful so that we can “do Christmas the way it ought to be done.” Advent is a time of integrity—an integrity based on first being receptive to God’s call on our lives. Repent—yes! But “repent” based on the promises being made here and now. Promise God to show up, to listen, to be getting ready. This means disciplines such as prayer and worship, it means obedience such as study and acts of peacemaking. God has already promised to transform you, to help you to become who you were created to be—God’s own beloved.