Advent Week 3 - Advent Repentance: Returning to God with Whole Heart and Riven Soul (Part 2 of 2)

The Reverend Ben Knoblet / December 13, 2025

“Therefore, also now, saith the Lord, turn ye even to me with all your heart… Blow the trumpet in Zion, sanctify a fast, call a solemn assembly” Joel 2:12-15 KJV

To Whom We Must Return: God Alone, with Whole Heart

If Advent repentance begins with forsaking sin, its true fulfillment lies in returning to God—usque ad me (“unto me”), as the Lord pleads through Jeremiah (Jer. 3:12). The homily preached before King James at Whitehall by Bishop Andrewes (on February 10, A.D. 1619) underscores this second point: not a vague spiritual drift, but a deliberate return by faith, persisting without fainting. Andrewes captures this in his first penitential motion: a turning toto corde—with the whole heart—rejecting the divided affections that fracture devotion (Ps. 86:11). The early Church recognized this same danger. In Acts, Barnabas exhorts believers to “remain faithful to the Lord with steadfast purpose” (Acts 11:23), a call to undivided pursuit.

Advent sharpens this focus. As the Word prepares to come among us, faith must apprehend Him—not partially, but wholly. The season’s penitential tone is not merely about sorrow; it is about reorientation. Hebrews warns against the deceitfulness of sin that leads to hardened hearts and spiritual relapse (Heb 3:12–14). Only a whole-hearted return can counter this drift. Advent faith is not passive belief but active longing, a soul stretched toward the Incarnate Word.

Practically, this means renouncing divided affections—those subtle idolatries that dilute our love for God. It means sequestering time for prayer, creating space for communion with the One to whom we return. Richard Hooker, in Of the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, affirms that true religion is not merely external conformity, but the soul’s inward bent toward God when he writes about the “nature of spiritual jurisdiction” (Hooker, Polity, VI, 2). Advent invites us to cultivate this inward bent, to turn not just our actions but our affections toward the divine.

Thus, the second motion of Advent repentance is a return—not to moralism, not to vague spirituality, but to God Himself. It is a movement of the whole heart, a faith that refuses to faint, a longing that seeks its end in the presence of the living God. Only such a return can prepare us to receive the Word made flesh.

By Whom We May Reconcile: Christ the Mediator, Turning Aversion to Access

True repentance not only turns from sin and toward God—it must pass through Christ, the Mediator. The homily’s third point affirms that Christ alone reconciles sinners to God, for his sacrifice alone satisfies divine justice. As Jesus declares, “I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me” (John 14:6). Hebrews confirms that “the blood of Christ . . . shall purge your conscience from dead works to serve the living God” (Heb. 9:14). In the Old Testament, “repentance” with reference to sin is not so prominent as a change of mind or purpose (Vine, Unger, and White 1996, 525). Without Christ, the soul remains estranged; with him, it finds access.

The parable of the lost (or prodigal) son is rich with the connection between confession and correction. “I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee” (Luke 15:18–19). Christ is the bridge between aversion and embrace, between wrath and welcome. “But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him” (Luke 15:20).

Advent intensifies this reality. The incarnate Mediator comes not only to dwell among us but also to turn away wrath and open the way of peace. “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand: repent ye, and believe the gospel” (Mark 1:15). Though in English a focal component of repent is the sorrow or contrition that a person experiences because of sin, the emphasis in the New Testament words metanoeō and metanoia is more specifically the total change—both in thought and behavior—with respect to how one should think and act (Louw and Nida 1996, 509). Advent repentance is not despair but hope—hope grounded in Christ’s merits, not our own.

Practically, this calls for bold confession and a firm grasp of Christ’s passion. We do not come before God in fear, but in faith—trusting wholly in the sufficiency of the cross. As Ambrose reminds us, God desires to be asked: “You are a man, and willest to be asked to forgive, and do you think that God will pardon you without asking Him?” (Concerning Repentance, Book II, Ch. 1, 48). In Christ, we find not only the courage to confess, but the assurance that our plea will be heard.

Thus, the third motion of Advent repentance is renewal through Christ. He turns our aversion into access, our guilt into grace. In Him, the way home is opened—and the Father waits with joy.

How to Turn: Fasting, Weeping, Mourning, Rending the Heart

Repentance, like a good tea, must steep long enough to be strong. Advent’s call to turn is not merely directional—it is deeply mannered, shaped by the soul’s posture before God. The homily’s fourth point reminds us that true contrition is inward, not theatrical: “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise” (Ps. 51:17, KJV). Lancelot Andrewes, preaching before King James on Ash Wednesday, outlines a fourfold manner of turning: the body chastened by fasting and weeping, the soul pierced by mourning and rending (Andrewes, Ninety-Six Sermons, 1:356–74).

This is no shallow sorrow. Paul speaks of “godly sorrow [that] worketh repentance to salvation not to be repented of” (2 Cor. 7:10), followed by zeal, indignation, and longing (v. 11). Daniel’s fast—“I ate no pleasant bread” (Dan. 10:3)—models bodily discipline, while mourning and weeping are not just emotional drops but sorrow appreciative, the soul’s deep valuation of grace lost. And rending the heart? Job says it best: “Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:6). It’s not about tearing garments—it’s about tearing pride.

Advent, though less famous than Lent for sackcloth and ashes, is no less rigorous. It is Lent’s quiet cousin, training the soul for Easter joy. “Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted” (Matt. 5:4). The deeply torn apart and divided heart is not the end—it is the soil from which resurrection hope springs.

Practically, this manner of turning invites us to a fast or a retired lamentation (a fancy way of saying cry in private), and to accept Christ’s tears in default when ours run dry. There are plenty of Psalms and canticles in the classic Anglican tradition to guide us into these penitential exercises.

In short, Advent repentance is not a performance—it’s a posture. It’s not about looking sad—it’s about being honest.

References

Ambrose. “Concerning Repentance.” Translated by H. de Romestin. In Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, edited by Philip Schaff and Henry Wace. Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing, 1896.

Andrewes, Lancelot. “A Sermon Preached before King James, at Whitehall, on the Tenth of February, A.D. MDCXIX. Being Ash-Wednesday.” In Ninety-Six Sermons. Oxford: John Henry Parker, 1841.

Griffiths, John, ed. The Two Books of Homilies Appointed to Be Read in Churches. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1859.

Hooker, Richard. Of the Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, Book VI. In The Works of That Learned and Judicious Divine Mr. Richard Hooker, edited by John Keble. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1888.

Louw, Johannes P., and Eugene Albert Nida. Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament: Based on Semantic Domains. New York: United Bible Societies, 1996.

The Holy Bible: King James Version. Electronic ed. of the 1769 edition of the 1611 Authorized Version. Bellingham, WA: Logos Research Systems, Inc., 1995.

Vine, W. E., Merrill F. Unger, and William White Jr. Vine’s Complete Expository Dictionary of Old and New Testament Words. Nashville, TN: T. Nelson, 1996.