Recently, I was listening to a video that stirred the researcher in me. The speaker made a simple observation: the Bible never says “repent of your sins” as the condition for salvation. Instead, it says simply, “Repent and believe the gospel.” (Mark 1:15).
That hit me hard. Because for years, I thought salvation depended on what I could stop doing. Stop the bad habits. Stop the failures. Stop the things I kept falling back into. And when I couldn’t stop, I assumed maybe I wasn’t truly saved.
But here’s the thing: salvation was never about me giving something up to qualify for God. The whole point of grace is that God is the giver, and I am the receiver.
The True Meaning of Repentance
The Greek word for “repent” (metanoeō) literally means to change your mind. It doesn’t mean “try harder” or “clean yourself up first.” Repentance is about turning from unbelief and self-rule to Christ as Savior and Lord. It’s a heart-shift, not behavior modification.
That’s why salvation is always described as a gift:
- “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works.” (Ephesians 2:8–9)
- “The gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 6:23)
When I put the weight on myself—on what I could give to God—I turned the gospel upside down. I became the “giver,” and God became the “receiver.” But Scripture says the exact opposite: God so loved the world that He gave His Son. (John 3:16).
Language Note: What Does “Repent” Really Mean?
There’s often confusion about the word repent because of translation history.
- Greek (New Testament): The word is metanoeō, which literally means “to change one’s mind” or “to turn around.” It’s about a heart/mind shift toward God.
- Hebrew (Old Testament): The common word is shuv, meaning “to turn back” or “to return.” It pictures turning from idols or disobedience and returning to God.
- Latin/English Tradition: When the Bible was translated into Latin, the word paenitentia (penance) was used, which later influenced English to carry ideas of sorrow, regret, or even doing penance. That’s where the idea of repentance as “working off your sin” came from.
But biblically, repentance is never about punishing yourself or cleaning yourself up first. It’s about turning to God in faith—receiving His gift, not trying to earn it.
The Trap of Behavior Modification
Here’s where so many of us get tripped up: sin changes its shape in different seasons of life. The thing that once chained you might no longer be the issue, but another struggle rises up. I might have conquered one temptation from my thirties, only to face a new one in my fifties.
If repentance means “stop sinning,” then I will never be at rest—because there will always be some area I haven’t fully mastered. And that’s exactly the cycle the enemy wants us to live in: exhaustion, shame, and endless striving.
And often, pastors or speakers will even double down on this with lines like: “If you’re doing XYZ on a consistent basis, I’d question if you were even saved at all.” That’s nothing more than manipulation, pushing people to modify their behavior out of fear instead of drawing them toward Jesus in faith.
Now hear me clearly—I am not advocating for no personal responsibility. Sin has consequences. Some of them show up immediately, others take years to unfold in places we never imagined. But the reality is that even those who are desperately trying to please God still sin. And when someone says, “Well, I mean consistent sin—the same one over and over,” I can’t help but ask: really? Because all of us commit micro-sins day after day after day. Pride. Jealousy. Impatience. Anger. Hidden selfishness. The books are full for all of us.
The question is not whether we sin, but who we depend on in those moments. Only Jesus saves us from sin. And only in eternity are we fully free from it.
But 1 Corinthians 6:11 gives the real answer:
“And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the Spirit of our God.”
Notice the verbs—you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified. It’s God’s work, not yours. Salvation is not behavior modification. It’s transformation.
The Slow Work of God in Us
The older I get, the more I realize: in my own strength, I could never fix it all. And truthfully, I’m not even sure I could yield enough for God to fix it all this side of eternity. That unsureness—that gap between who I am and who I want to be—can feel like failure.
But the truth is this: the Christian life is not about perfection, but direction. God is at work in us, even through the ups and downs. He is both the author and the finisher of our faith (Hebrews 12:2). He started the work, and He will complete it (Philippians 1:6).
Repentance, then, isn’t me fixing myself—it’s me shifting my heart back to God again and again. It’s me clinging to Jesus as the only Savior, even when I stumble.
The False Gospel of “I’m the Giver”
There’s a trend today, especially in light of recent events, for people to “take up the gospel” and spread it—but the foundation they’re spreading isn’t always the true gospel. Too often, it’s the “I’m the giver” gospel, where the weight shifts onto what we do for God, instead of what God has done for us.
And here’s the fallout: countless people have been hurt by churches, or by people in churches, and that hurt has skewed the gospel in their minds. They no longer see it as good news, but as another demand they can’t live up to.
I had lunch recently with someone whose first words were, “I don’t want to hear any more about that Jesus stuff.” Somewhere along the line, they’d been wounded, or saw injustice, and concluded that God Himself was part of the problem. But the truth is, they had misunderstood the gift and the Giver.
Sometimes people blame God for how others represent Him. But that’s like going to the gym and blaming your own weight problem on the fact that other people there are overweight. The gym isn’t the issue. The trainer isn’t the issue. The problem is in how we respond to what’s being offered.
The gospel hasn’t changed. The message hasn’t changed. God is still the Giver. He still offers life freely in Christ. But the false gospel—the one where I’m the giver—robs people of hope before they ever get to see the real thing.
How the Church Has Wrestled With Repentance
This struggle isn’t new. For centuries, the church has wrestled with what repentance means and how it connects to salvation.
- The Early Church: The earliest Christian writers (like Justin Martyr and Irenaeus) consistently emphasized that salvation was through Christ’s work, not human merit. Repentance was seen as a turning of the heart toward God, not a tallying up of sins repented of.
- The Reformation: Martin Luther’s very first thesis in 1517 declared, “When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ‘Repent,’ He willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.” He didn’t mean endless self-punishment. He meant a lifelong turning from self to Christ. Repentance wasn’t a one-time work to qualify for grace; it was the daily rhythm of faith.
- John Calvin: Calvin explained repentance as inseparable from faith, but not identical with it. Repentance was the fruit of faith—evidence that God was already at work—never the root that earned salvation.
- Later distortions: Over time, traditions crept in where repentance was reduced to a checklist of sins confessed, or even penances performed. That’s the “I’m the giver” gospel sneaking back in—where my action is what secures God’s approval.
The consistent witness of Scripture and faithful voices through history is this: repentance is not payment, it is posture. It is not giving to God; it is receiving from Him.
The Gospel That Frees Us
The gospel is not a heavy burden of “do better.” Jesus said, “My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” (Matthew 11:30). The message is simple: God gives, and we receive. Christ has done it all.
And when that truth sinks in, something beautiful happens: sin loses its power, not because I’ve willed it away, but because Jesus becomes more satisfying than what sin ever promised.
