Have you noticed how perfect
people LOOK at church? How they seem to have no problems, no messiness? They’re in their nice “Sunday best” clothes
with smiles on their faces, looking perfect regardless of how their week has
gone.
And on the other hand have you
noticed how imperfect you FEEL when you get there? Maybe you just couldn’t find the right
clothes to wear or you’re reeling from an argument you just had with your
spouse on the way? Or maybe your
teenager has refused to get out of bed or you’ve had a terrible awful bad
week?
I have to wonder . . . is this what God intended for us to
experience in the body of Christ?
I remember vividly the Sunday when
I felt the messiest. My seventeen year
old son had been arrested over the weekend for shoplifting. It was one of the lowest times of my life – I
felt like such a failure.
As I carefully arranged my mask
and stepped into the Atrium area of our church on that Sunday after his arrest,
I looked around and saw all the “perfect families” with their “perfect children”. It was all I could do to stay where I was and not run screaming from the
building.
I wondered if anyone had
problems like I had, whether they could see the sorrow in my eyes that I was
trying to hide. Did they know I was a
failure? Did they even care? What would they say if they found out? What would they think of me?
That day it felt as if I had a
big scarlet letter on my chest, warning people not to get too close. It was all I could do to act like nothing was
wrong and get to my car as fast as I could.
It wasn’t that my church body
was insensitive or judgmental; it was my own perception and pride that would
not allow me to be transparent and in turn it isolated me from those in my church family who would have encouraged and helped me carry my burden.
When we are discouraged and
broken, why do we try to disguise our pain? Because we know clearly how ugly
our own lives are but see only the outside of other people’s lives, which leads
us to assume that they are perfect and we are not.
So why aren’t we more open and
transparent? Wouldn’t that really be
more attractive to people than trying to prove that we are perfect? James 5:16 (NLV) says, “Confess your sins to
each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The earnest
prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results.”
God calls us to be open, vulnerable
and honest about our failings and struggles because he knows that that is the
place where we will find healing. When we
choose to keep our failures and difficulties to ourselves we move into a place
of isolation and loneliness as we forge a path on our own.
And isn’t that just what Satan
wants; to keep us all in our own little fortresses “safe from the outside
world” where no one can be a witness to our pain and discouragement and where
we will be unable to care for and encourage someone else? He doesn’t want us to be what God intended the
church body to be to one another.
On that Sunday of my son’s arrest,
I ran into a dear friend after church. Knowing the brokenness she had experienced in
her own life, I knew I would receive no judgment from her, which gave me the courage to set my pride aside and remove the mask I was wearing. My friend was the church for me that day; she broke down the walls of my fortress and loved me for who I was. I will always remember her encouragement when I was in a very difficult and
lonely place.
So this Sunday, when you walk
into your church building, remember that the people around you are not perfect,
they might look like they are but they’re not.
Ask God to help you to have the courage to take off your mask and be
transparent and to open your eyes and allow you to be the church to someone who
is hurting and in need.