I guess it says the same thing, but I also think there’s a subtle and important difference. To “come to” something seems to emphasize an arrival. To “reach” something seems to focus more on a journey. To “come to” makes me think more of a path. But according to the original language, to “reach” paints more a picture of space. And I guess that resonates. When it comes to repentance, it is less about a path presented and more about the space provided.

The Lord is not slow to fulfill His promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.

(2Peter 3:9 ESV)

Peter’s addressing the naysayers, those who scoff, “Where is the promise of His coming?” (2Pet. 3:3-4a). If He’s going to judge the world, they say, where’s the judgment?

Peter’s reply? Your problem isn’t really with the veracity of God’s promise, it’s with a complete lack of understanding of God’s patience. If you were honest with yourselves, you’d have to admit that God has a pretty solid track record when it comes to what He speaks and what He does (2Pet. 3:5-6). Your problem is with the space the Lord is leaving for you to reach repentance.

Reach repentance . . . That’s the phrase I’m chewing on this morning.

Other translations render it “come to repentance.” But apparently, the literal meaning of the original word used here is “to leave space” or “to have space or room for receiving or holding something.” And, like I said, that resonates. For I think getting to a place of conviction, confession, contrition, change of mind, and commitment to do a 180-degree turnabout is more akin to navigating a space than it is to following a path.

The story of the prodigal son comes to mind (Luke 15:11-24). Talk about space! Getting your inheritance early, having the luxury of being somewhat independently wealthy, gives you a lot of space. Although he may have followed a path away from his father’s house “into a far country”, once there he had the space to “squander his property in reckless living.” Who would have guessed that it would lead him to hiring himself out to feed pigs in order to feed himself — but even then, not be able to feed himself as well as he fed the pigs. Lotta room there, tons of space to discover dead-end after dead-end. But also, space for him to “come to himself.” Space to look around and then look back. Space to regret his decisions and recalibrate his desires. Space to be repelled by his current situation and remember his father’s house. Space to reach repentance.

And it’s the Lord who, in His kindness, makes space (Rom. 2:4). Patiently providing us room to get real about our sinful complicity in ending up in sad situations. Room to get in touch with our hearts and honest with our self-justifications. Room to come to our senses and admit to ourselves, “It’s time to go home.” To purpose, as did the prodigal, “I will arise and go to my Father.”

Thank God for His patience. Thank God for the cross and that through it there is always available forgiveness and cleansing from unrighteousness. Thank God for grace abounding that can’t be out sinned. Thank God for the space to come home each and every time we find we’ve wandered off. Thank God that we can always reach repentance.

By His grace. For His glory.