Showing posts with label deceit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label deceit. Show all posts
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Friday, January 12, 2007
The Scariest Six Words a Christian Can Hear
"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."
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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