"What if there were no secrets?"
In my Christian experience, this is the single most terrifying question. Furthermore, in my Christian experience, I can think of nothing which unites the whole community of believers--whether Roman Catholic, Episcopalian, Presbyterian, Methodist, Pentecostal, Non-Denominational, Inter-Denominational, or whatever else one may be in this era of fragmentation--more than the fear of people truly knowing us, knowing both our incredible and individually manifest potential for greatness and also the depths of our own inner depravity. In all honesty, I don't know which of those facets of our own humanity is more frightening.
Still, I think the greater problem is the fear we instill within believers which keeps them from acknowledging their sin. One of the trends I've observed in Christianity over the past decade or so has been a movement towards pastors who are more "transparent." Those quote marks are quite intentional. You see, while I can't even begin to count the number of times I've heard a pastor admit his/her weakness of road rage, rudeness, anger, impatience, mistreatment of family members, past drug/alcohol abuse, or deceitfulness, I can't think of even one example of a pastor admitting to struggling with lust, pride (and here I make the caveat that I've not heard them intentionally portray their own pride; sometimes it just bleeds through every word), or other "big" sin. Even hearing a pastor talk about past sexual sin or struggles takes the air out of the room. Say "pornography" in chapel. It's an amazing trick.
And we, like robots, follow their lead. When we're really open and honest and vulnerable with each other, we admit to struggling with the huge spiritual demons of "busy-ness," maybe a lie or two, and, God forbid, not being able to squeeze an hour of prayer, Bible study, and worship into our lives.
I can't speak for anyone else, and any attempt to do so would be incredibly foolish, but I can speak for myself: I've used prescription painkillers just so that I can feel something other than myself and my problems (which are almost entirely trite and adolescent in nature). I've lusted enough that, by Jesus' own logic, I'm an adulterer with thousands of women, if not more.
If you think less of me now, I guess I'd have to say that I'm disappointed, mainly in the fact that I bought into the lie of deceiving everyone around me. Maybe I wasn't successful, maybe I was. But that's irrelevant--the difference is between walking in darkness and walking in light.
God is light and in him there is no darkness.
That's what I thought about today. "What if there were no secrets?" How ultimately liberating and, yet, terrifying that idea is. When everyone already knows, what is there to be afraid of? And, to quote one of my favorite poets, "If I'm afraid and you're afraid, then we don't have to be afraid anymore."
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2 comments:
I haven't had a chance to read all of this yet, but your title left a few words in my mind.
Those are the six scariest words a Christian can hear unless they've heard them there entire life. Pastor Ted said as long as I can remember: There is no such thing as a secret. King David thought no one would know about Bathsheba... but here we are thousands of years later reading his story again.
The scary part for me is that even when someone knows there are no secrets, there life can still change because of them in one night. Forever.
Interesting point you make here. I have to agree. We're not transparent with each other at all - much less the world. And if we're living behind a stained-glass curtain (Casting Crowns called it), how is the world going to have a clue about how lost it is? Even if it does know... how will it find Christianity desirable if all it sees is a bunch of hypocrites. No, you're right. We need to be vulnerable, to be known, to be understood in all our weakness and frailty and outright sin and depravity. Thanks for reminding me; I needed it.
And - sorry it's been a while since I've stopped in.
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