I was debugging code the other day and needed to understand when a particular bug was introduced. Git's version control system let me trace through the commit history, seeing exactly what changed and when. Each commit represented a decision point—a moment when the code diverged from what it was toward what it would become.
And it struck me: this is a pretty good model for understanding repentance and sanctification.
Version Control Theology
For non-programmers: version control systems like Git track changes to code over time. Every time a programmer makes changes, they create a "commit"—a snapshot of the code at that moment, along with a message describing what changed and why.
This creates a complete history of the project. You can see how it evolved, revert to earlier states if needed, understand why particular decisions were made, and trace the path from initial commit to current state.
Christian life has a similar structure. We're works in progress, being transformed from one state toward another. Repentance represents commit points—moments of acknowledged change where we turn from one direction toward another.
The Importance of Commit Messages
Good git commits include clear messages explaining what changed and why. "Fixed bug" is a bad commit message. "Fixed null pointer exception in user authentication by adding input validation" is better—it explains what, where, and how.
Similarly, genuine repentance requires clarity about what we're turning from and toward. Vague guilt isn't repentance. Specific acknowledgment of particular sins, understanding why they're wrong, and intentional redirection toward righteousness—that's repentance.
My autistic mind appreciates this specificity. Abstract concepts like "being a better person" are hard to act on. Specific commitments like "I will not interrupt people when they're speaking" give me something concrete to work with.
Incremental Change
Software development proceeds through incremental commits. You don't rewrite the entire codebase at once—you make small changes, test them, commit them, and move to the next change.
Sanctification works similarly. We're not instantly perfected at conversion. We're progressively transformed through many small changes, each building on previous ones.
This is encouraging for someone like me who tends toward all-or-nothing thinking. I don't have to fix everything at once. I can make one commit—one genuine change—and build from there.
The HEAD Pointer
In Git, "HEAD" points to your current state—where you are in the project's history. You can examine past commits, but you work from HEAD.
Spiritually, we live from our current state. We can learn from past failures and successes, but we act in the present. Repentance isn't just regret about the past—it's reorientation in the present toward a different future.
This helps me avoid both denial (refusing to examine past commits) and rumination (endlessly reviewing past failures without moving forward). The past is history; HEAD is now; commits shape the future.
Branching and Counterfactuals
Git allows branching—creating alternative development paths to explore different approaches. You can experiment on a branch, and if it doesn't work, abandon it without affecting the main codebase.
We can't literally branch our lives, but we can think counterfactually: "If I continue this pattern, where will it lead?" This is part of repentance's wisdom—recognizing that current trajectory leads somewhere we don't want to go.
The rich man in Luke 16 wanted to send warnings to his brothers—help them see where their current branch leads before they commit to it permanently. Repentance is creating a new branch before the bad one merges into master.
Merge Conflicts
When different branches modify the same code differently, you get merge conflicts—Git can't automatically reconcile the competing changes. You have to manually resolve them.
Spiritual formation involves similar conflicts. Old patterns compete with new commitments. The flesh wars against the Spirit. You can't serve both God and money.
These aren't bugs in the system—they're features. The tension forces explicit decisions. You have to choose which version to keep, which approach to follow. This is where character is formed.
The Log Tells a Story
Looking at a project's git log reveals its development history—the trajectory from inception to current state. You see dead ends that were abandoned, problems that were solved, features that were added.
Our spiritual histories tell similar stories. Genuine transformation leaves traces—patterns of growth, recurring themes, progressive change. The log reveals whether we're actually moving or just committing the same changes repeatedly.
Paul could point to his history: "I was a persecutor of the church; now I proclaim the gospel." The commits tell the story of transformation.
Revert vs. Rebase
Git offers different ways to handle mistakes. "Revert" creates a new commit that undoes a previous one—the bad commit stays in history, but you've explicitly reversed it. "Rebase" rewrites history as if the bad commit never happened.
In spiritual life, we can't literally rebase—can't rewrite history to erase our sins. But repentance works like revert: we can't undo the past, but we can explicitly turn away from it through new commits moving in a different direction.
The history remains (we don't forget our sins), but new commits progressively move us away from that state toward righteousness.
Commit Early, Commit Often
Software wisdom says: commit early and often. Small, frequent commits are better than large, infrequent ones. They're easier to understand, easier to debug, easier to revert if needed.
Spiritual wisdom echoes this: frequent examination, regular repentance, continual course corrections. Don't wait until you've accumulated massive unaddressed sin. Address things as you notice them.
Daily examination of conscience, regular confession, ongoing spiritual direction—these are practices of frequent commits. They keep the project healthy and prevent technical debt from accumulating.
The Main Branch
Most projects have a main branch (traditionally called "master," increasingly renamed to "main") representing the canonical state. Other branches experiment, but main is what ships.
For Christians, our main branch is being conformed to the image of Christ. We might explore various side branches (different ministries, theological questions, life experiments), but the main project is Christlikeness.
Keeping that main branch healthy is the priority. Side branches are useful for exploration, but they serve the main project's goals.
Open Source and Community
Modern software development is often collaborative. Multiple developers contribute commits, review each other's code, and work toward shared goals.
Christian formation is similarly communal. We don't transform in isolation. The church reviews our "commits," offers corrections, contributes to our development. Spiritual direction, accountability relationships, corporate worship—these are collaborative development practices.
My autistic tendency toward solitary deep work serves me well in coding, but spiritual formation requires community. Others see blind spots I miss, challenge commits that seem good to me but introduce problems, and contribute wisdom I couldn't generate alone.
The Ultimate Merge
Eschatologically, there's a final merge coming—when our development history concludes and the project ships. At that point, all commits are final, all branches resolve, all conflicts are settled.
This creates urgency. The commit window won't stay open forever. Now is the time to address bugs, implement features, refactor problematic code. One day the project will be evaluated based on its final state.
Practical Application
This analogy suggests practical approaches to spiritual growth:
- Make specific commits: Identify particular sins and particular alternatives
- Write clear commit messages: Understand what you're changing and why
- Commit frequently: Regular examination prevents accumulated spiritual debt
- Review the log: Examine your history to identify patterns and trajectory
- Resolve conflicts deliberately: Don't ignore competing commitments
- Work collaboratively: Let community review and contribute to your development
- Keep the main branch healthy: Prioritize Christlikeness above side projects
Conclusion
Version control won't make you holy—it's just a tool for managing code. But the practices it embodies illuminate spiritual realities: life as progressive change, repentance as explicit redirection, sanctification as accumulated commits toward Christlikeness.
As someone who thinks in systems and loves technical metaphors, Git gives me a framework for understanding transformation. Each day is a commit opportunity. Each repentance redirects the trajectory. Each faithful choice moves HEAD closer to the goal.
The project isn't finished yet. There are bugs to fix, features to implement, refactoring to do. But commit by commit, pull request by pull request, the code improves.
Or in traditional theological language: we're being transformed from one degree of glory to another, until the day when the project ships and we see Him face to face.
In the meantime, commit early, commit often, and keep the main branch healthy.