Magic Words

I learned growing up that there were certain “magic words,” by which my mother did not mean hocus pocus.  She meant please and thank you.  To say please and thank you was the foundation of all manners.  And in Southern homes, knowing your manners was valued just about above all else.

And, as every Southerner also knows, they do not necessarily convey anything remotely sincere.  Manners are matters of formality.  They are social conventions that do not necessarily carry a very deep meaning. 

Somewhere along the line I picked up some other magic words, things you say to be polite that do not necessarily carry much meaning.  One of them was “how do you do,” which is the polite thing to say when introduced to someone for the first time.  There is no sincerity involved, of course.  I wouldn’t know what to do if someone actually answered.  It’s just something you say.  Somewhere along the way, I came to understand “I’m sorry” the same way, as just something you say, without really meaning very much at all.

Now, of course, sometimes I really mean I’m sorry when I say it.  At least sort of.  I do not mean to hurt others, and when I say I’m sorry, I’m really saying I regret that someone was damaged by my actions or that someone’s feelings were hurt.  And I actually mean that.  But if that is as far as my “I’m sorry” goes, it really isn’t good for too much.

“I’m sorry” doesn’t really mean very much unless it also means, “and I intend not to do it again.”  That comes closer to what we mean by repentance.  To repent requires a very high degree of sincerity that “I’m sorry” does not necessarily carry with it.

Any “I’m sorry” that matters involves more than mere regret and goes beyond intention.  It must also involve behavior.  In the words of the gospel for the Third Sunday of Advent, it must involve repentance. And repentance means bearing fruit worthy of repentance.  Any “I’m sorry” that matters involves behaving as if you really are. 

John the Baptist, who like Jesus preached a lot about repenting, doesn’t spend any time at all on how anyone feels.  He is preoccupied entirely with changing behavior.  “Bear fruits worthy of repentance.”  (Lk. 3:8)  And he has an urgency to his message.  Anyone who doesn’t bear such fruit isn’t worth saving.  “Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.”  (v. 8) 

And he goes on to speak of what it means to be sorry, to repent.  He isn’t much interested in hearing tax collectors say they’re sorry.  Sorry only relates to the past, and no one can do anything about the past.  Being sincerely sorry has to do with behavior in the future.  To the tax collectors he says, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.”  (v. 13)

John isn’t much interested in hearing the soldiers apologize.  Apologies relate to the past, and it is impossible to change the past.  The issue is about behavior moving forward.  “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusations, and be satisfied with your wages.”  (v. 14)  He really doesn’t care whether they feel sorry or not, only that they do something about it.

And, of course, there are the crowds.  They are not tax collectors or soldiers, which were groups with particularly bad reputations.  The crowds are just regular folks, regular folks like us.  What is the fruit we should bear?  It is sharing.  “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.”  (v. 11)  John, I daresay, isn’t much interested in hearing confessions about what has been done.  He is interested in behaving differently.  Otherwise, we aren’t much worth saving.

Otherwise, all the “I’m sorries” in the world aren’t worth much at all.  I’m sorry, after all, are not magic words.  They actually mean something.  Or are supposed to.

Peace,
+Stacy