One of the theological terms with which preachers struggle, often during Advent, is repent. It is the commandment, or at least the invitation, that John issues in preaching about the coming of the Messiah. In Matthew 3:2, John declares, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” Repent carries many meanings including: change your inner self; change your way of thinking; regret your past sins; live your life in a way that proves you have changes; seek God’s purpose for your life.

The word in the original Greek of Matthew’s gospel is metanoeite, which means “to change one’s heart and mind.” A literal translation of the term is “to change direction, to stop going the wrong way and start going the right way.” Preachers have long proclaimed the invitation to stop going in one direction and find a new direction in their exposition of the concept.

Less commonly included in preaching is another subtle bit of language and translation that is part of understanding the evolution of the concept in theology. The distinction between regret and repent is a concept in contemporary English and other modern languages, but it does not really exist in ancient Greek. In our way of thinking, repentance is born of deep regret - regret that is deep enough that it inspires a change of mind or a change in course of conduct. In the ancient world, however, the distinction between thinking and action is absent. The change of behavior is seen as the sign of the change of mind. It is all a single concept in the original Greek. There can be no change of behavior without a change of mind and to change one’s mind is to change one’s behavior.

In our world, however, there are plenty of examples of people expressing regret without actually making any changes. Public apologies often seem to be more of an expression of sadness over getting caught than sadness over the actual behavior. Politicians will express regret and continue to do the same thing as before. There seems to be a disconnect between being sorry about something and actually changing one’s behavior.

I’m not sure that this distinction serves society. Would we not be better off if regret actually produced change? Is not change the solution for the problems we experience?

As long as I am geeking out over language and the meaning of words, let me introduce the etymology of another term that is common in contemporary usage, but not so common in ancient literature. The word trauma is common in reference to the wounds experienced by victims of violence in our contemporary world. Although the word has some roots in a Greek stem word, its use in the contemporary sense is not very ancient. The first uses of the word in reference to wounds or injuries is from the 17th century French and probably comes from the Proto-Indo-European root “tera” meaning “to rub, turn.” That same root yields words referring to twisting, drilling, piercing, and also the term for the process of removing husks from grain or threshing. That same root is also the basis for the modern word “attorney,” with its sense of a professional who can bring forth a different outcome. The roots of that word are distinct from the biblical word that carries a sense of counselor or one who stands in your place to advocate for you.

Attorneys and Lawyers aside, the origin of the word trauma is not just wound, but piercing and turning - tearing apart. That sense of being torn apart has a reflection in some of the ways we talk about grief. We say we are “beside ourselves” with grief as if we had become two entities that simultaneously exist. I have often heard survivors of trauma speak of their experience as one of undergoing a twisting and tearing process of becoming something different than what existed before. Their experience has caused them to experience more change than they previously thought was possible - or even survivable. They thought that they could not bear the events that came to pass and yet somehow they have survived. Somehow they have born grief that was once beyond imaginable.

Those suffering trauma, however, do not easily come to an understanding of the process as somehow good or positive. Although I might speak of the possibility of “good grief” in counseling a survivor, I am careful not to introduce such an idea too early in our conversations - before the victim has been able to pour forth the negative emotions which rise up when they reflect or re-experience the trauma.

In a sense, trauma forces a kind of repentance. The old ways are no longer viable. Life as it once was ceases to exist as a possibility. The only way forward is a direction that was not previously possible. One does not get over trauma. The only course of action is to go through trauma. The future after experiencing trauma is forever altered. A new way of living emerges. The old is not fully forgotten, it is simply unattainable. There is no way to go back to what it was like before.

What emerges is a new way of seeing, understanding, knowing - a new way of living. We often use the term “survivor” to refer to this new post-trauma way of life. What has been survived is the end of the old way of being and the birth of a new way of being. The survivor carries knowledge and memory of what was before and what can no longer continue. The new being is literally beside what once was. There is a distinct separation between the past and the future - a turning point - a repentance. For a survivor, change was not the product of individual will, but rather something for which there was no other option. There was no possibility of not changing. Yet there still is a choice. The choice is to survive. One might perish from the trauma. One chooses to survive.

A survivor exists through a miracle of imagination - a new heaven and a new earth opens up where no way forward seemed to exist. It is a rough and jarring process. Such deep change is a triumph of the human spirit.

It is this new life to which we are called from the traumas of our time.