Dec 11 2006
Personal Foul. Face Mask. 15 Yard Penalty.
The last couple of posts have “seemed out of character” for me to some of my readers. And since “some readers” makes up a majority of “those readers I actually have” I thought I should address those concerns. :0)
Earlier this year, Raquel wrote a post about a Casting Crowns song called Voice of Truth.
There’s another song on that album called Stained Glass Masquerade about which Adiel posted a couple of months ago.
In football, when someone grabs another player’s face mask, it calls for a penalty. Sometimes 5 yards. Sometimes 15.
In the Church, when someone else’s mask is grabbed usually what happens is that somebody leaves the field.
I said it this way to a friend on Sunday, “I’m tired of being the one who’s supposed to have it all together.”
And I was. And I am.
And there’s a reason for that.
I never had it all together. And I can’t keep it all together.
We wear masks on Sunday to keep other people out. To keep us safe. To keep others from hurting us. Maybe it’s because we don’t want other people to see us cry. Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s a delusion that we can control something. Maybe it’s fear that they won’t like us if they really know what we’re like.
What is it with you? Are you open with those in your covenant community? Have you opened yourself up to them? Why not?
You see, God loves me. And He loves me knowing how awful and useless I am. He knows where I’m failing better than even I know myself. And He loves me. He not only loves me, He paid for all of my uselessness and wickedness and failings and awfulness with His own Son.
And yet.
I’m too often afraid.
Remember the old deodorant commercial? “Never let them see you sweat.”
We are afraid to let others know we’re weak and frail and useless.
But what does the Gospel say?
The Gospel says we’re weak. And frail. And useless.
And that’s why Jesus came. Because He loved (and loves!) a weak and frail and useless people and died for their weak, frail, useless souls.
So that in Him we wouldn’t be weak or frail or useless anymore.
And in Him we’re not.
But in ourselves, in our own strength, we are.
But we forget who we are and who we are in Christ.
So you may see more of who I am on this blog from time to time. And make no mistake it is who I am. I am a weary, failing person who is tired of trying to do too much. And the only way I become anything else is if I turn to Him who does more than I ask and rest upon and wait upon Him.
So may we all, today, wait upon the Lord and have renewed strength. And when we do not, may we fall so hard upon His grace that we remember who we are and who He is and what He’s done.
And then the Gospel will live itself out in our lives as weak and frail and useless people point to the mighty, strong, benevolent Savior who can save our weak and frail and useless neighbors just as He saved weak and frail and useless me. Weak and frail and useless you.
So take off your face mask and believe the Gospel and go forth in peace by His grace alone. Repent of trying to go it on your own and trust in the risen, ruling Savior! He alone does great and marvelous works. May He do so today through broken vessels like you and me.
I know I’m weak, frail and useless. I freely admit it. But then that makes me “high maintenance”. People (in the church and otherwise) don’t have the time to deal with that. Everyone is too busy dealing with their own families and they don’t need or want to take on any more.
Are they?
I think we tell ourselves that, when what everyone really needs is to bear with one another in love when someone is need.
If the church looks at you as “high maintenance” rather than someone else like they are then shame on them. But if you refuse to let them see who you are because you’re afraid they’ll see you that way . . .
Jesus has given you much that He will use for His glory in the Church. What that is, from here, I can’t say. But it is there. But you must use it in His strength rather than your own.
Oh–and they’ll never *want* take on any more. But they probably need to. And so do you.
Nobody said the road was easy–but it is the easy road. *IF* we take on His yoke and let Him take the burden.
More on this in my next post, Behold the Dragonslayer.
Well, I, for one, prefer “high maintenance” friends, and it is probably a good thing because I can be awfully “hihg maintenance” myself! Being real and showing our vulnerabilty is what makes us useful in the Kingdom. If we “had it all together” we wouldn’t need Jesus would we?
Thanks for your openness, James. And be assured that our family is praying that you will be strengthened.
I’m in…
It’s interesting that, apparently, there’s something about sitting at a computer by yourself that allows people to open up in ways that they find hard to do in person.
Some of my greatest opportunities for ministry during my time as a youth pastor started when a teenager would just go off in a blog post. That allowed me to start subsequent conversations with, “…so…saw that you hoped every descendant of so-and-so chewed their own arms off. What’s up with that?” Saved me 45 minutes each time, at least.
Of course, some people reacted to stuff like that by refusing to read it, or thinking the writers were out of their minds. Which is a shame, because a lot of opportunities are missed that way.
So blogging turns out to be a place where it’s somehow easier to be honest. Fine by me. Turns out we’re told to speak the truth in love, as I remember. Blogging, then, makes for a sort of “back to the future”ish dynamic. Which is cool.
So keep speaking the truth. In love.
You might also try getting an unlisted phone number.
My prayers are with you, as well. They’re bleary-eyed and non-Reformed, but they’ll have to do.
Thank you, Mike.
And it’s those non-Reformed prayers that always seem to sound like they expect God to do something–so keep ‘em coming.
And may God bless you to where you won’t need to FedEx anymore and the prayers become less bleary-eyed–and may He bountilfully redeem that time you’re spending there with His presence.
[...] while back I wrote a post about wearing masks. Sometimes we also call this wearing a poker face. When we don’t fit in [...]