Even if I caused you sorrow by my letter, I do not regret it. Though I did regret it—I see that my letter hurt you, but only for a little while— yet now I am happy, not because you were made sorry, but because your sorrow led you to repentance. For you became sorrowful as God intended and so were not harmed in any way by us. Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death. 2 Corinthians 7:8-10
Have you ever
said something a little blunt, a little forceful, to somebody, and later
thought “Mmm, I wonder if I should have said that? Did I come across a bit too
strong? Is that the end of our friendship?”
It’s easy to
do, isn’t it? You spoke in all good faith because you felt it really needed to
be said, but…
And now you’re
on tenterhooks, wondering what the fall-out might be.
That’s how
Paul was when he wrote 2 Corinthians, perhaps the most personal and revealing
of all his letters. His relationship with the church at Corinth – a church he
had been instrumental in founding, remember – was tense and fragile. Many of
the members had listened to gossip about him and didn’t really like him at all,
and various critical remarks had been made about him.
So, rather
than pay them another visit - his previous visit had been “painful” (2
Corinthians 2:1) - he decided to write them a letter, which he refers to here
(verse 8): “…even if I caused you sorrow by my letter”.
What was this
letter? Was it the one we now know as “1 Corinthians”? Most New Testament
experts think that is unlikely – more likely he wrote a letter which was later
lost. But it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that, whatever it was, it
caused considerable pain to the Corinthians and left Paul seriously on edge,
wondering if he’d blown it once and for all. Oh dear!
But now… his
friend and companion Titus has turned up after a visit to Corinth and – wahay!
– the news is good! “He told us about your longing for me, your deep
sorrow, your ardent concern for me…” (verse 7). Phew! – you cannot almost see
Paul breathing a big sigh of relief: “They love me after all!”
What I want
to focus on is that word sorrow. It occurs some eight times in this
handful of verses, and it’s worth noticing how Paul distinguishes between two
very different types of sorrow: “sorrow as God intended” or “godly
sorrow”, on the one hand; and “worldly sorrow” on the other.
What it boils
down to is the difference between repentance and remorse.
Repentance
means being truly sorry and intending to change as a result. A classic example
is David in the psalm traditionally attributed to him, Psalm 51, “after he had
committed adultery with Bathsheba”. “Have mercy upon me, O God, according to your
unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions.
Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sins”. A broken man crying out
to God for mercy; and receiving it.
And then of
course there is Simon Peter, who “went outside and wept bitterly” after his denial
of Jesus (Matthew 26:75). Another man broken by his sense of shame and guilt,
he was later forgiven and restored by Jesus.
People
sometimes ask why Jesus forgave Peter but not Judas, the man who betrayed him.
According to Matthew 27:3-10 Judas “was seized with remorse and returned the
thirty pieces of silver (his fee for betraying Jesus) to the chief priests and
the elders. ‘I have sinned’, he said, ‘for I have betrayed innocent blood’…” To
which they replied (in effect), “So? That’s your problem”. Whereupon he “went
away and hanged himself”.
It’s a fair question
to ask, for Judas does indeed seem to be truly sorry (those words “was seized
with remorse” could in fact be translated “repented”, as in the NRSV, or even
simply “changed his mind”, as in the ESV). We can only say that God, who knows
the depths of every human heart, saw something there in Judas which put him
beyond the reach of even the divine mercy.
Whatever,
Judas obviously decided that death was preferable to living with such a massive
weight on his shoulders. That’s sad beyond words.
I wonder if
anyone reading this needs to swop remorse for repentance? Yes, you hate what
you did – and you’re close to hating yourself as a result. But somehow you just
can’t bring yourself to repent – to come to God in total humility and honesty.
It’s all become a matter of bitterness and self-recrimination.
The truth is
that the longer you persevere in mere remorse the heavier that burden will get;
you will be like a person crushed under a ruck-sack. But to repent is, in
effect, to take a sharp knife to the straps and let it tumble away. The
freedom! The liberation!
Psalm 32 is another
one which beautifully expresses this great truth: “Day and night your hand was heavy
upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer… Then I said ‘I will confess
transgressions to the Lord’. And you forgave the guilt of my sin.”
To move from
remorse to repentance can be hard; but oh what joy it brings!
Thank
you, Father, that you are an infinitely forgiving God. If in any area of my
life I am weighed down by the bitterness of remorse, please, by your Spirit,
bring me to a place of true repentance. Amen.
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