Dear readers, it is not often that I find that someone else has taken the words out of my mouth. Those of you that know me know that I have no difficulty opening my pie hole and letting whatever thoughts happen to be rattling around my brain come spilling out past my lips. And if I cannot say it, I write it. Today, though, I was struck by a blog entry from a man I’ve never met (thank you, Facebook and Mike Roe, for that link.) The more I read it, the more I felt as if this man had taken my heart, opened it up and then sorted out the contents. All I could think, as I read along, was, “Yes! Yes! Exactly!”
That man’s name is Samuel Adam and you can find the entry I read here. I suggest you give it a quick read before continuing.
My instant connection to the material did not stem from his love of Frederick Buechner, though Buechner is a favorite of mine and is as underappreciated in Christian circles as he is brilliant. Nor was my agreement founded on his admiration for the Lost Dogs, another favorite of mine. No, my appreciation for Adam’s post was born of the strong feeling that we’re—if not all the time, at least most of the time—getting it all (and by “it” I mean our walk with God and by “all” I mean all) wrong. This feeling I’ve had since my teenage years that, somehow, all the trappings we’ve come to recognize as (Western Evangelical) Christianity isn’t really trapping anyone but us.
I’m a coward. You need to know that up front. I don’t like to talk about my own failures because I’ve come to know how harsh my fellow church-goers can be. That’s another thing you should know. Church-goers is a term I’ll be using throughout this post because there is a difference between a church-goer and a Christian and that difference is often wide enough to drive a fleet of gas tankers through. Sure, Christians can be and often are church-goers, but I’m going to define them clearly so, as we proceed, you’ll understand exactly what I mean.
Christian: A disciple of Christ, who though flawed and prone to sin, has a desire to know God because everything they thought they knew was obliterated by His presence. That desire to know Him overshadows all other desires and is fulfilled only by the ineffable grace of God. A Christian is constantly aware of his or her fallen and unworthy state and that they are sanctified ONLY by the act of Christ on the cross. Furthermore, His resurrection means that the life they live is no longer their own and, even as the chief of sinners, they have been shown much grace and mercy and, therefore, owe much grace and mercy to those within and without the church. Their relationship to God inspires and informs their relationships with others. They believe the world will only be changed through the grace, mercy and love Christ offers to all.
Church-goer: A man, woman or child whose relationship with God is informed by their other relationships. Church is a society in which they find like-minded people. It is a safe, fun place for their families to engage in moral and life-affirming activities that separate them from the rest of their community. A church-goer wears the term Christian like a war medal though they’ve never tasted battle. It’s a letterman jacket for a sport they’ve only watched from the sidelines. They believe the world will only be changed through the legislation of Christian ideology and ridiculing those who do not conform to their own image of God.
Understand, these are generalizations, of course, and people cannot often be forced into a mold. Many Christians devolve into church-goers over periods of their lives and sometimes church-goers catch a spark and become consumed with the need to draw closer to Him. The truth is, if we’re brutally honest with ourselves, those of us who have been in the church most of our lives have probably been at both ends of the spectrum at one time or another. This isn’t me pointing my finger and damning the hypocrites. We’ve all been hypocrites. We all ARE hypocrites about some things.
There are enough people pointing fingers and wagging their tongues about what’s wrong. Let’s talk about how we can start getting it right. I said that I was a coward when it comes to talking about my failures. That’s true…but I’m starting to get over it. You see, I’ve begun to realize that it is my failures…and my brokenness over them…that gives God access into the areas of my life that I tend to hide from other Christians. It is in allowing myself the grace to be human (which is, after all, what God created me to be!) that I become accessible to others in need of His grace.
Our tendency, whether just a natural inclination to cover up our struggle with sin or a learned behavior from having seen how so many fallen brothers and sisters have been treated, is to put on “the smile.” You know the one—the one that, when all hell is breaking loose, says “Nope. No problems here. I don’t need any help. I got this.” We don’t like REAL life. That’s hard and makes us look flawed. We like “safe and fun for the whole family” world that has been sanitized for our own comfort. We prefer a Christian bubble with its Christian music and Christian books and Christian mints on our Christian pillows so we can dream Christian dreams before waking up to our Christian breakfast.
The problem with all that “safe and fun” illusion is that, inevitably, the cracks will start to show. They’ll be little at first, nothing anyone would notice, but eventually you’ll avoid the very people who should be standing in the gap and bringing you grace and mercy simply because you’re afraid of judgment. And the truth is that there ARE many believers that WILL judge you.
Let’s be real. We all suck. Bottom line. The Bible tells us that all our righteousness—the very best that we can muster—is worthless compared to the perfection and righteousness Christ is calling us to. If we were to graph righteousness on a sheet of paper, Christ’s righteousness would take up a page too big for the earth to hold… and yours would be represented by a pile of horse dung on another graph completely. That’s how the Bible puts it. Your righteousness is waste. It’s garbage. It’s a steaming pile of…well, you know.
So, if His righteousness is more than enough and ours is as worthless as stock in EuroDisney, why don’t we just get out of the way? Why can’t we just shut up and let Him be God? Because, acting like you’re God isn’t getting you anywhere. No one is buying it. Everyone’s too busy trying to sell themselves as perfect and happy…keep those blasted cracks from showing. Why can’t we just say, “Yes, I’ve been a lousy husband.” or “You know, what? The truth is I’ve got a lust problem.” Why has it become more acceptable to church-goers to wallow in hypocrisy rather than being a obviously flawed person in need of the Savior?
I slept with my first wife before we were married. I got her pregnant, too. There you go. Honesty. In a panic, I made all the wrong decisions. Instead of taking any counsel from the great people God had placed in my life, I hid from them. I was embarrassed and ashamed. I wasn’t just some kid in the youth group. You see, I was an associate youth pastor. And my girlfriend was an administrative assistant for the church. My downfall was that I forgot I was human. I never considered the fact that, in the heat of the moment, I would make the wrong choice. I wasn’t just an associate youth pastor, after all. I was a cool guy. I could sing, act, write and help bring big name Christian acts to perform at our church. I was at the pinnacle of everything I had dreamed of when I tumbled. I was so confident in MY OWN ability to keep me on the straight and narrow that I never saw it coming. That’s what the “safe and fun” environment of the modern church got me. But I can’t lay the blame for my sin at the foot of the church, no matter how the environment added to the trouble. The problem was me. It’s always me. I’m a sinner. Relying on myself has never led anywhere pleasant. What I want you to see is…the problem is you, too.
The modern culture of Western Christianity is built on a lot of talk. We SAY we’re sinners. We SAY, “There but for the grace of God go I,” but most of us don’t really mean it. Usually, we mean, “I’m up here and you’re down there and I’m trying to show you where the steps are so you can get your life right and be up here with me.”
Wrong.
They can’t get their life right—and, HELLO!—you didn’t either. They can’t change their lives anymore than you changed your own. (And your life STILL isn’t right. And won’t be fully until we leave this world behind.) That’s a supernatural and continuing work being done by the Holy Spirit. Even the faith that got you out of your seat and down the aisle to say the sinner’s prayer didn’t come from you. God gave you that. That’s why trying to legislate morality using bully groups like the Christian Right will NEVER WORK. You can’t change people by changing what they can and can’t do. The Old Testament proved that. No one is capable of living a holy enough life to satisfy the law. It’s why Christ had to come and do it for us.
You say, “But I AM in a different position than they are. I’ve received Christ.” Sure you did. But being set free of the PENALTY of sin isn’t the same as being set free of the POWER of sin. The power of sin continues to influence every Christian and church-goer. Being set free of that power is a continuing work as God perfects us and molds us into the image of His Son. And being freed from the penalty of sin is not something for us to boast about—It is meant to glorify God. You had nothing to do with it.
So, here’s what I’m suggesting. Give up the façade. Stop acting like you’ve got your house in order and everything is sunshine and roses. Christ said that those that follow after Him will be on a hard road to sacrifice. There’s nothing rosy about carrying your cross. Be real. Be flawed. Stop working so hard to act like a Christian and just be one. Stop trying to correct behavior and legislate morality and let people know about the grace YOU have received. You might find they want some, too. It’s the Holy Spirit’s job to mold them and dig out all the rot…but only AFTER they come to know Him. And, guess what? Not every Christian wears khakis, carries a Bible and teaches Sunday School. Some of them ride Harleys, enjoy a cold beer and smoke cigarettes. But they love Him. And, over time, He’ll work out whatever kinks He needs to. Not whatever issues YOU think need dealing with, mind you, but the ones He cares about. Sometimes it’s our imperfections that remind us to have grace for the rest of the imperfect. Sometimes our frailty and honesty is what draws people to us…and then, we can point them to Him.
I wear my “rags of light” with great pride, now. I see all the pretty people with their pretty lives and their crisply pressed robes of white and I realize that it’s just the white-washing of a tomb. The rags I “clutch about me like a man in a storm” are a badge of honor I have never deserved and never will deserve. They are a reminder that, even seeing what a mess I would make of my walk with Him from time to time, He that knew no sin became sin and died in my place…not that I could boast about it or use it as a billy club with which to beat back the unbelievers…but as a testament to His love and grace.
God, as always, save us from ourselves.
J
