A New Take on Contrition

The classic prayer for forgiveness is Psalm 51, known from its opening word in Latin as the Miserere. It’s a breast-beater and a good one. The most profound there is. I’ve been praying it (on my knees, no less) every day during Lent.

I made a discovery. (Okay, God showed me something).

The first five verses are contrition: admitting guilt and asking pardon. David had more need of this than any of us, since, in addition to his wars and other despotic acts, he raped the wife of a loyal officer, then murdered her husband in a shameful betrayal and cover up. But his heart was deeply afflicted over it. Generations have echoed his repentant words:

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions.

Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.

For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.

Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are justified in your sentence and blameless when you pass judgment.

Indeed, I was born guilty, a sinner when my mother conceived me.

But then the next verse takes us in a different direction. With a perception I had never seen before, David realizes that contrition can also have bad effects. He changes focus and asks God not to let sorrow crush his spirit by making him feel alienated from God. He prays to put his sins behind him, asking God to keep him balanced in the truth, to let him feel clean, experience joy and enthusiasm again, and not just give up on doing great things for God and for the world. He prays for a confident and willing spirit.

 You desire truth in the inward being; therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart.

 Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

 Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have crushed rejoice.

 Hide your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities.

 Create in me a clean heart, O God, and put a new and right spirit within me.

 Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your holy spirit from me.

 Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.

David goes beyond himself and his self-reproach. He looks outwards to work to be done; to others who need help, his help. He turns his thoughts to God and to praising God. He realizes that immersion in sorrow for sin can become immersion in self. He asks God to turn his thoughts to praising him and proclaiming his mercy to others.

Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you.

Deliver me from bloodshed, O God, O God of my salvation, and my tongue will sing aloud of your deliverance.

O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise.

David knows the desire of God’s heart. God doesn’t dwell on anyone’s sins. He is not interested in endless breast-beating or efforts to make up for what one has done wrong. It is enough for God that we have seen the truth about ourselves and about him. Now it is time to act on what we know.

For you have no delight in sacrifice; if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased.

The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

God always looks to the now and to the future: to what we can do for him today and for our fellow humans. When we have all helped each other to come together in the “peace and unity of his kingdom,” then we can spend eternity caught up in the one Sacrifice that abolished sin once and for all and made us a new creation.

Do good to Zion in your good pleasure; rebuild the walls of Jerusalem.

Then you will delight in right sacrifices, in burnt offerings and whole burnt offerings; then bulls will be offered on your altar.

I used to think a “firm purpose of amendment” looked backwards to sins committed, with concern never to repeat them. Now I see it is above all a looking forward to living and working immersed in Christ, without allowing anything, especially our past sins, to discourage or distract us.