(Based in large part on Brian D. McLaren’s book entitled Naked Spirituality: A Life with God in 12 Simple Words)
A wise spiritual leader once said, “A secret to the spiritual life is desiring to actually be more spiritual than you appear to be. The secret to hypocrisy is desiring to appear more spiritual than you actually are.” Take a moment to ponder those two statements.
For all of us, there is a tension between who we are and who we want others to think we are. And there is also a tension between who we really are and who we have convinced ourselves we are. As Brian McLaren says, “Forget about keeping up with the Jones. What we most struggle with is keeping up with the image we want others to think we are.” Often, it’s not a matter of holier than thou (although sometimes that too is present within us). It’s a matter of seeking to appear holier than we really are.
To some degree, we are all hypocrites. The Greek word for “hypocrite” goes back to the word for “masks” used by Greek actors. Hypocrisy involves putting on a “face” which is fake. We are all familiar with some of the most flagrant examples of hypocrisy found among some religious leaders who preach passionately against the very sins they are most guilty of. Such charlatans, however, do not have a monopoly on this kind of deception. Hypocrisy reveals a very human tendency to try and keep guilt at bay as we deal with our own weaknesses and transgressions. Scapegoating (the projecting of our own guilt onto others) often accompanies hypocrisy and is a devastating contributor to so much suffering and injustice in this world.
I grew up in the church, and it’s always been a vital part of my life. But much too often I have found church to be the last place where people are genuine regarding who they really are, what they really think, where they really struggle, what they really fear, and what they have really done in life. Sometimes I think people put on their Sunday best just like those Greek actors put on their masks to play their parts: “It’s show time! So, let’s put on our Sunday dress/suit/masks not because God deserves the best from our wardrobe but because it helps us maintain the illusion that we are better than and different from what we really are.” One frustrated pastor even said, “We should put a sign just inside the front door of our churches which reads, ‘Let’s pretend!’ With such an admission, we’ll at least be honest about our own dishonesty.”
We all want life to be simple, and at times, it is. But at other times, life can be so complicated with so many shades of darkness and light. And nowhere is that complexity more apparent than when we deal with our own behavior, thoughts, attitudes, and desires. Consider all the good things people do for others while at the same time seeking recognition and perhaps ways of improving their reputations within their communities. Or just think about your own actions and thoughts: How many of those are 100% pure, holy, unselfish, and totally motivated by unconditional love? Even with our own families and friends, we may find that our motives are mixed.
Of course, most of us (unless we are saints—which I assure you, I am not!) are much quicker to make excuses for ourselves, to give ourselves the benefit of the doubt, and to put the best face on our own motives and actions than we are willing to grant such grace to others. To a certain extent, we all can be seduced by the temptation of appearing more spiritual than we actually are. And perhaps to an even greater extent, we are all pretenders projecting an image by which we can profit in one way or another. The problem with all this temptation, duplicity, hypocrisy, and deception is that we can lose our “selves,” our very souls. By “losing our souls,” I don’t mean becoming candidates for hell. I mean losing our unique identities as children of God as we sacrifice our integrity and squander our chance to offer the difference we alone can make in this world God so loves. Such offerings are dependent on our being true to ourselves, others, and our God.
How can we move beyond the playacting we invest so much time and energy in and begin living authentically and with integrity?
So, how can we move beyond the playacting we invest so much time and energy in and begin living authentically and with integrity? C. S. Lewis often asked this question of audiences who came to hear him speak: “What is the most significant conversation you have every day?” Since Lewis was a religious writer, people gave him the response they thought he wanted to hear (a response which would demonstrate how pious and spiritual they were). They answered, “Our conversation with God, of course.” And Lewis would shock them by saying, “No! It’s the conversation you have with yourself before you speak to God, because in that conversation with yourself, you decide whether you are going to be honest and authentic with God, or whether you are going to meet God with a false face, a mask, an act, a pretense.”
And that brings us to the practice of self-examination and confession. We Protestants are not big on confession. And I must admit that it has never made any sense to me that people should have to go to some church appointed official and tell all the terrible things they have thought and done and then to hear that church official grant forgiveness in God’s name. I’m entirely too much of a Protestant to believe in that kind of exchange. But that does not mean there is no place for self-examination and confession before God on our part.
Brian McLaren writes that the practice of self-examination and confession “acknowledges the tragic gap between our appearance and our actuality. Through confession, we say, ‘God I will not hide anything from you. You know already. Pretending in your presence is pure and pathetic insanity. I want to be who I am in your presence.’”
He goes on to say that when we utter the simple words, “I’m sorry,” “We’re saying, ‘I acknowledge what you already know.’ When we confess to God our secrets, the real truths about ourselves which we fear will result in God’s rejecting us, we are abandoning the lie by which we live and which robs us of our chance to embrace life in all its fullness. When I hold up to God the regrets and remorse I would otherwise try to hide in order to project a happy, likeable, and ‘spiritual’ image, my ‘I am who I am’ can resonate with God’s ‘I am who I am.’” Such honesty and integrity allow for a true dialogue and a deep and real connection to blossom between me and my Creator. And such honesty and transparency practiced on a continual basis maintains that vital relationship.
Two psalms teach us a lot about confession and self-examination. Both psalms are associated with King David who does wrong, refuses to admit his sin for a time, and then finally confesses his wrongdoing and receives forgiveness. We all know the story behind these psalms. While David’s army is involved in a distant war, the king, comfortably situated in his Jerusalem palace, commits adultery with the wife of one of his soldiers fighting on David’s behalf. When the woman becomes pregnant, David tries to hide his culpability. When his efforts fail, he manages to have the woman’s husband killed in battle. He is later confronted by the prophet Nathan with his sin. (You can read this intriguing story in II Samuel 11-12.) David confesses, “I have sinned against the Lord.” David experiences the great grief of exposed wrongdoing and the even greater relief of coming clean. “Happy are those whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.” (Psalm 32:1) As McLaren observes, by “covered” he doesn’t mean kept in secrecy because he then contrasts the happiness of coming clean with the misery of living in secrecy. “While I kept silence, my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer.” The energy required to cover up and to broadcast a false, inflated image depletes the soul, creating a sick internal environment—like an internal infection which saps one’s strength. The irony is this: when David stops covering up his sin, his sin is covered. It’s like God is saying to David, “Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered—covered by mercy and grace.”
But what happens if we refuse to confess and honestly examine ourselves? What happens if we maintain the coverup and continue to broadcast our false and fraudulent image? The energy we need to live a joyful, authentic, and full life is drained bit by bit until we are a mere shell of who we could be in all our potential. And even worse, we become numb, calloused, hardhearted, and stiff-necked. We dig in our heels so deep that in reality we are digging our spiritual graves.
Of course, this is where the conscience comes in. McLaren comments, “The conscience is like a moral nerve for the soul. It’s like a pain receptor that warns us of moral danger. Self-examination and confession keep our moral nerves from going numb. The conscience is what shouts, ‘Something is wrong! You’re burning yourself morally! Your integrity is being bruised and broken! You’re feverish, infected, sick!’ The pain and misery of a sensitive conscience find relief when we stop, self-examine, and confess before God. By awakening us to the moral and spiritual danger of what we are becoming, confession allows us to choose a better becoming.”
Now let’s be clear about the conscience. God can use our conscience to show us our wrong and the harm we are doing ourselves and others. But the conscience is not God or the Holy Spirit. It’s a part of our makeup. It’s a vital part of who we are. And we can abuse our consciences in two ways. We can ignore our consciences consistently and with such stubborn determination. We can do so to the point that we become deaf, blind, and totally insensitive to that inner moral nerve. We can refuse to see the truth about ourselves to the point that we are no longer capable of seeing the truth. (That is the powerful warning behind what is mistakenly called “the unpardonable sin.” Please see the blog sermon Matthew 12:22-32 “What Is the Unpardonable Sin?”) We anesthetize our consciences to the point that they die of neglect. Our very souls wither. We become fragmented and alienated even from ourselves. We become a brittle shell of who we once were and nothing like we could be if we were honest with ourselves and God.
The second way we can abuse our consciences is when we allow them to go into overdrive. As McLaren reminds us, “We can allow our consciences to become hyperactive, obsessive, and self-destructive, like a watchdog that turns on its master with the same fury it has been trained to focus on an intruder. Just as we need to be protected by our conscience from integrity loss and character decay, we need to be protected from our conscience at times, from the destructive self-flagellation and the simmering self-hatred it can foster. The practice of self-examination and confession provides a way of calling off the guard dog, dealing with the danger, silencing the conscience’s alarm bell, and moving on.”
Many of Jesus’ teachings and encounters focused on forgiveness. I think he realized that so often forgiveness is what allows life to begin again. And self-examination and confession are the path on our part which can allow life to begin again. And if you are anything like I am, you often need life to begin again—and again—and again. In Christ, God can make all things new.
Communion
The Greek word for confession is very interesting. Literally it means “saying the same thing.” In confession, we try to say the same thing God would say about our behavior and about us. So, what does God say? At this Table, who we are meets who God is. And who is God? God is love: unconditional, indiscriminate, self-giving, and everlasting love. But because God respects our freedom, the only way we can ever experience the depths of that love is to come before God just as we are. So, come and hear God say to you, “I love you. I forgive you. And I’ve got you covered—covered by healing mercy and amazing grace.
Commission
Find the courage and humility to remove at least one mask this week. Remove it before God and others so that a part of your soul can be freed to dance in the light.
(This sermon is heavily based on Brian McLaren’s book entitled Naked Spirituality: A Life with God in 12 Simple Words. The quotes come from pages 87-92 in a chapter with the heading “Sorry: Holier Than Myself?” In this book McLaren presents twelve words and unfolds their meaning for a healthy spiritual life. The words are Here, Thanks, O, Sorry, Help, Please, When, No, Why, Behold, Yes, and [….] I highly recommend all of McLaren’s books. This particular book would be an excellent guide for the journey associated with Lent.)
Psalm 32
1 Happy are those whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. 2 Happy are those to whom the Lord imputes no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit. 3 While I kept silence, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long. 4 For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer. (Selah) 5 Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not hide my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,” and you forgave the guilt of my sin. (Selah) 6 Therefore let all who are faithful offer prayer to you; at a time of distress, the rush of mighty waters shall not reach them. 7 You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with glad cries of deliverance. (Selah) 8 I will instruct you and teach you the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you. 9 Do not be like a horse or a mule, without understanding, whose temper must be curbed with bit and bridle, else it will not stay near you. 10 Many are the torments of the wicked, but steadfast love surrounds those who trust in the Lord. 11 Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, O righteous, and shout for joy, all you upright in heart.
Psalm 32
NRSA
