Lent begins with the trace of ashes and the somber words: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return” (Book of Common Prayer, p. 265). It is a season of repentance, reflection and renewal. But it is not merely a time for self-examination – it is an invitation to return to the God who is full of mercy and steadfast love.
Psalm 51 is the great penitential psalm of David. Here is a man who has come face to face with his own sin, yet instead of hiding in shame, he throws himself at the mercy of the only one who can cleanse him.
“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your steadfast love; according to your abundant mercy blot out my transgressions” (Ps. 51:1). David does not appeal to his own sincerity or efforts. He casts himself entirely on the character of God – on his mercy, his steadfast love and his power to forgive.
This is the posture of Lent. We do not come with offerings of self-improvement or resolutions to do better. We come empty-handed, knowing that all we have to offer is need. And that is precisely where the grace of God meets us.
The Work of Grace in True Repentance
The Ash Wednesday liturgy leads us through a deep and thorough confession of sin. It reminds us that sin is not just what we do but also what we have failed to do: “We confess to you, Lord, all our past unfaithfulness; the pride, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives” (Book of Common Prayer, p. 268). These words press down on us, revealing how sin entangles our hearts more deeply than we often realize. But confession is not about remaining in despair – it is about restoration: “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me” (Ps. 51:10).
St. John Climacus articulates this beautifully: “To repent is not to look downwards at my own shortcomings, but upwards at God”s love. It is not to look backwards with self-reproach, but forward with trustfulness. It is to see not what I have failed to be, but what by the grace of Christ I might yet become.” Repentance is not about self-condemnation but a turning toward God’s mercy. Lent does not leave us trapped in our brokenness but calls us into the love of Christ, who makes all things new.
The language of Psalm 51 is striking. David does not ask for improvement but for re-creation. He is not asking God to touch up his existing heart, but instead to make something new. The Hebrew word for “create” (bara) is the same word used in Genesis 1:1 – David is asking for nothing less than a miracle. And this is the miracle of Lent: The God who formed us from the dust is also the one who makes all things new.
Thomas Aquinas captures this in Summa Theologica by referencing Augustine: “[F]or a just man to be made from a sinner is greater than to create heaven and earth, for heaven and earth shall pass away, but the justification of the ungodly shall endure.” The creation of the world brought forth life from nothing, but the re-creation of a sinner’s heart requires God’s mercy to triumph over sin and death. It is the work of grace alone, not our effort or resolve.
A Contrite Heart: The True Sacrifice
When confronted with failure, our instinct is often to respond with grand gestures. But Psalm 51 reminds us that what God desires most is not outward sacrifice, but something deeper: “You will not delight in sacrifice, or I would give it; you will not be pleased with a burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Ps. 51:16-17).
Lent is not about proving ourselves to God through self-denial or fasting. Fasting is not a transaction; it is an act of dependence. We fast to remember that we are not sustained by bread alone but by every word that comes from the mouth of God (Matt. 4:4). We repent not to secure God’s love but because we have already been loved beyond measure. We kneel in confession not to wallow in guilt but to be lifted by the mercy of Christ. This is the “sweet exchange” of the gospel as described in the anonymous Epistle to Diognetus from the late first or early second century:
In whom was it possible for us, the lawless and ungodly, to be justified, except in the Son of God alone? O sweet exchange, O the incomprehensible work of God, O the unexpected blessings, that the sinfulness of many should be hidden in one righteous person, while the righteousness of one should justify many sinners!
Lent is not about what we bring to God, but about what he has already done for us in Christ. In repentance, we do not offer our own righteousness, for we have none to give. Instead, we receive his righteousness, freely given in Christ, which Augustine says is a “blessedness inconceivably exalted”: “For as by the sin of one man we have fallen into a misery so deplorable, so by the righteousness of one Man, who also is God, shall we come to a blessedness inconceivably exalted.”
Romans 2:4 reminds us, “[Do you not realize] that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?” Repentance is not a response to God’s harshness but to his kindness. It is his mercy, his patience and his steadfast love that draw us to turn back to him. When we confess our sins, we are not met with condemnation but with the open arms of a Father who delights in forgiving. The kindness of God is what softens our hearts and leads us to true repentance.
The Joy of Forgiveness
It is easy to think of Lent as a season of heaviness, but Psalm 51 offers another perspective. “Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit” (Ps. 51:12). Repentance is not the end of the story – it is the beginning of joy. True repentance leads to restoration, and restoration leads to rejoicing. The ashes of Lent will give way to the triumph of Easter morning. The sorrow of repentance is always accompanied by the promise of grace.
The Ash Wednesday liturgy proclaims this boldly: “Almighty God … pardons and absolves all those who truly repent and with sincere hearts believe his holy Gospel” (Book of Common Prayer, p. 269). Lent is not a season of despair, but of hope. It is the journey of the prodigal son returning home to a Father who runs to meet him with open arms. It is the realization that the God who “desires not the death of sinners, but rather that they may turn from their wickedness and live” (Book of Common Prayer, p. 269) is always inviting us back.
The Invitation of Lent
The invitation remains before us: “I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, to the observance of a holy Lent” (Book of Common Prayer, p. 265). It is an invitation to walk in the footsteps of David, to lay down all pretense and pride, and to say with confidence, “Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow” (Ps. 51:7b).
This Lent, let’s not be afraid of repentance – it is the gateway to grace. Let’s not resist confession – it is the doorway to joy. Let’s kneel in humility, knowing that the one who calls us to return is already running to meet us – full of mercy, ready to restore.
Thanks be to God, who does not treat us as our sins deserve but instead clothes us in the righteousness of Christ.