I’ve talked in previous posts about the need to get real with God. But I think that we Christians also need to do better at being real with each other. Why can’t we Christians just admit that we are broken, hurting people too, that we are sinful and need help?
Why do we act like we can do it all on our own and like we can handle everything with grace and style and a smile on our faces? Why do we spend so much time and energy polishing up our outsides? To earn approval? To make God happy and proud of us? To impress others? To feel better about ourselves? To look better than others?
Honestly, all we are doing is hurting everyone. When we are not real, we miss out on a genuine relationship with God and others. We don’t get the help and the healing we need. We exhaust ourselves. We keep others and God an arm’s length away. And we make others feel like they are “less than”. . . because they struggle while we “have it all together.”
We are “unsafe” because people feel judged, condemned, and shamed in our perfectly-polished presence. Why would they confide in us or seek our help when they feel like we couldn’t understand, like we are “above” them, like they have to feel ashamed of their brokenness and their struggles, like we expect them to be polished too?
Why can’t we just be real about our heartaches, doubts, fears, shortcomings, weaknesses, and pain? Why can’t we admit that we, too, are human? Why can’t we even admit that to ourselves?
We cannot reach lost, hurting people if we set ourselves up above them and act like we don’t have struggles. (And ultimately, we are not impressing anyone, especially God.)
Being a Christian doesn’t take away the pain and struggle. It doesn’t make the journey easy. But it does give us some real help - Someone to walk this life with us and help us through it. It gives us purpose and meaning and value. It gives us joy in something outside anything this life offers. It gives us a destination that brings real hope and makes the journey worth it. It gives us life!
We cannot reach broken people if we don’t show them our own brokenness, too.
We don’t help others by showing them how “perfect” people do
it.
We help them by showing them how real people - how broken people - do it.
And we do this
not by trying harder or doing more
or polishing ourselves up nice and shiny.
But we do it by falling down at the feet of Jesus and saying, “Help me,
I can’t do it myself. I need You. I am a
mess.”
No masks! No phoniness! No “holier than thou” pedestals!
I don’t know about your Jesus, but my Jesus came to die for the lost and the hurting and the broken, not to criticize or scold or condemn. He picks us up when we are down, not kicks us. He carries us when we are weak, not lets us fall flat on our faces or makes us struggle along on our own.
We don’t need to put on a polished mask for my Jesus because He loved us enough to die for us, even when we were still messed-up sinners. He loves us as we are, not for who we try to be. He knows that we are weak and in need of a Savior, so it doesn’t surprise Him that we can’t do it all on our own and that we are hurting and broken.
In my Bible, my Jesus had no harsh words for the hurting and broken.
He only had harsh words for the religious snobs who thought they were better than everyone else and who thought they could do it all on their own, earning their way to heaven because of their good works and proper attitude and polished outsides. The ones who felt that they had no need to fall down at His feet and admit their weakness, neediness, and brokenness.
The world is skeptical and untrusting of church as an institution, of religion as a merit system, as a ladder that we climb to reach heaven. Well, so was Jesus. He never joined the holy huddles. He didn’t like the religious, hoity-toity, “we are better than you” snobs who looked down on “sinners.” They did more harm than good. They ruined His message of free grace, mercy, love, and forgiveness.
While He never went soft on sin or coddled sinners, He never looked down on the hurting and broken and those who knew that they were sinful and that they needed Him. Instead, He looked down on those who elevated themselves too high and who thought they didn’t need Him.
But He reaches out to the hurting and broken, to anyone who will take His hand, His help, His grace and mercy and love and forgiveness and healing.
His church isn’t an institution. It’s people. Hurting, broken, needy people.
His religion isn’t a bunch of impossible standards and strict rules. It’s “Believe in Me. Trust Me. Let Me love you and heal you. And live accordingly.”
He’s not about condemnation and shaming and criticizing and judging. He’s about grace, mercy, forgiveness, and love.
That’s my Jesus. And that’s why I choose Him. It’s why I love Him.
We can take off the masks and be real with my Jesus. And we need to do that with each other, too, if we want to reach other hurting people and show them the love of our gracious, merciful, forgiving Savior. A Savior who came to die for the broken and the hurting, when we were still sinners.
We don’t need to polish ourselves up for Him before we can approach Him. We just need to come to Him as we are, and then He’ll help us grow and change as we mature in our faith. But don’t let your fear of being “not good enough” stop you from coming to Him. He already loves us and values us as much as He ever will, simply because He made us and we are His! No masks needed! No masks allowed!
