not one of the cool kids

i've adopted a phrase at work and in life wherein i declare someone "one of the cool kids."  i think it stems from my lifelong goal of actually being associated with that particular group.  all through middle school and high school i envied the status of some of my classmates.  i'm pretty sure i'm preaching to the choir on this point.  we all had that sensation as pre-adults . . . not quite "fitting in," and if we did fit in we probably wanted to fit in somewhere else.  i guess you could say there was a proverbial greener grass on the other side of the social fence.  some of us got there, some of us never did . . . but the sad reality is that many of us still find ourselves pining after status.  whether it's at work as we position ourselves for a promotion, in relationships as we prove to others that we are worthy of friendship and love, or at church as we put on our sunday best to go along with our sunday smiles, our deepest and darkest closets stay in the deepest and darkest recesses of our lives, hiding the deepest and darkest secrets we wish for no one to know.  "my church can't know those thoughts that i think, those things that i lust after, the uncontrollable anger i harbor . . ." and the list goes on and on . . . gluttony, adultery, theft.  aw heck, who am i kidding? it's not that bad right?  perhaps little-bitty sins like buying the shirt i didn't need, skimping a little on my tithe check.  we assume the best in people . . . if we're in church then we're "ok."  we're one of the cool kids.  

 

what i've seen   

 

better yet, after reading the above paragraph ask any number of the people i grew up with what they were thinking when they found out about my life.  ask them what they've seen and ask them how the truth of my life impacted their view of "the cool kids."  what they will tell you, hopefully, is that nothing is at all what it seems.  they will tell you, hopefully, that it's the itty-bitty sins that are covering up the true heart of the matter.  they will tell you, hopefully, that if chris could have understood when he was young what it meant that "Jesus hung out with sinners," then maybe he wouldn't be where he is today.  well, i am where i am.  and i'll tell you a little of why.

 

i couldn't make confession of my weakness.  every little thing; a lie, a doubt, a disbelief, began to be covered up by the next little thing.  eventually, it snowballed into an avalanche i couldn't control.  i couldn't admit that i was weak.  i couldn't admit that i doubted.  i couldn't admit that everything i was living out loud was nothing at all like what was going on inside.  i couldn't admit that i was a sinner and that i was in desperate need of saving.

 

one thing i've come to understand, and now come to see as sad, is that when we find sin in the church we are often shocked by it.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer notes:

 

He who is alone with his sins is utterly alone.  It may be that Christians, notwithstanding corporate worship, common prayer, and all their fellowship in service, may still be left to their loneliness.  The final breakthrough to fellowship does not occur because, though they have fellowship with one another as believers and as devout people, the do not have fellowship as the undevout, as sinners.  The pious fellowship permits now\one to be a sinner.  So everyone must conceal his sin from himself and from their fellowship.  We dare not be sinners.  Many Christians are unthinkably horrified when a real sinner is suddenly discovered among the righteous.  So we remain alone with our sin, living in lies and hypocrisy.  The fact is that we are sinners.

 

Brennan Manning adds: 

 

At Sunday worship, as in every dimension of our existence, many of us pretend to believe  we are sinners.  Consequently, all we can do is pretend  to believe we have been forgiven.  As a result, our whole spiritual life is pseudo-repentance and pseudo-bliss.

 

WOW!  that was me to a "T."  [an aside:  granted, there are those in the church, (like i was)  living full-on lives of hypocrisy and fraud.  So yes, there are times when “shock” is not only acceptable but human and necessary.   my point is that too many christians are not open about their sin, their struggles, their tendencies and hang-ups.  so when it does all come tumbling down, it’s like perfection went falling into the abyss . . . why do we see each other as faultless (unless we don’t like someone then all they have are faults, but i digress]   i wonder how many people feel the way manning described it as they lie down at night.  when the darkness of night descends do our hearts ascend to peace and joy?  when the dawn rises with a new sun do our minds rise to another day of joyfully pondering the cross?  or do we hide in our daily lives, our children, and our jobs . . . our church?

 

2,000 years ago you're walking down the streets of israel and Jesus is coming the other direction inviting people to come to dinner. when you and He cross paths does He invite you over?  does he pass you by for the man on the side of the road?  what's the criterion?  and this is when i realized what joy there is in embracing my place as a sinner at the foot of a merciful and gracious God.  it was at the moment when i knew that i desperately needed to have supper with Jesus, that i needed to be at His table hanging on His every word, when i was at a cross roads--one direction a beginning, the other an end--that i reached out as He was passing by and i screamed out, "SAVE ME, FOR I AM A SINNER!"  

 

i gave up.  i quit pretending.  i stopped being who i thought i was and started living the truth.  Jesus invited prostitutes right off the street . . . not the ones doing it in secret.  he invited the hated tax collector . . . right after the took the widows last mite.  he invited the drunkards  . . . smack in the middle of a binge.  it was for these that he came . . . the losers, the vagabonds, the ragamuffins.  

 

Jesus didn't come for the cool kids.