The Devil's Blackmail

Okay, I'm just gonna say it:  I do some stupid things.  Throughout this blog's short lifetime, I have made no secret of the fact that I'm not perfect, and I've talked several times of one of my chief temptations, namely my same-sex attractions.  But I want to make it abundantly clear that, when I say I do thing that are gravely and humiliatingly wrong, I'm not just talking about in the past, some time long ago that was magically resolved at some point--like when I met my wife, or married her, or when I became a father, or any other milestone that so many people might claim "turned my life around."  No, I still stumble.

In fact, I stumble in ways that leave me open to public shaming and embarrassment, things that could come back to bite me.  I won't go into details, because the details aren't relevant here.  But I've foolishly opened myself, even in recent times, to exposure.  I wrote a post about misuse of the word "hypocrite" not that long ago, and even if the word is often misapplied by "the world," I've certainly given the world potential fuel to misapply it to me.  I behave in ways that are unchristian, and sometimes when I behave in these ways I don't even show any sign that I'm remorseful or that I have any conscience in the matter.  By all accounts, it might seem like I'm a "traitor" from either point of view, whether from the view of faith or the view of the "anything goes" culture.  Two-faced.  Duplicitous.  To be honest, I'll admit one thing where I am a genuine hypocrite:  I find it scary and off-putting when others behave that way, and yet I do it myself and don't think I am scary.  It's very humbling for me even to admit that, because I am often as guilty as any Pharisee of thinking that "I'm more honorable than those sinners."  I'm not.  Not by a long shot.

What will I do if they find out I'm human?!

Anyway, the point is that there exists in this world, for all I know, the means to "expose" my sins, and to show everyone that not only are my failures still very much ongoing, but also that when I'm in "sin mode" I am a very different person than the person I want to be, the person that I would be proud to be.  I am no better than anyone, and I say that from the heart.  The reality of "me" is not always pretty or responsible.  I can be as stubborn or shameless as any other sinner in the whole world.  The only difference at all is that, by God's Grace, I am ultimately willing to admit that my sins are sins, but even then "in the moment" I sometimes put that reality on the back burner and won't mention it if it would be an "inconvenience" to the wrong deeds I'm pursuing.

God knows my sins.  And unfortunately, so does the devil.  And that snake would love nothing more than to use them against me, to intimidate me from doing anything good that might put my reputation on the line.  The devil is more shameless than any human sinner could ever be:  He is not above using cheap blackmail, and ever since I reached puberty he has used it against me.  Now, perhaps, he has more to work with than before, since as a family man it's even more "embarrassing" that I have the struggles I do.

Here's an example:  In very recent times I've even second-guessed whether or not I should continue promoting this blog, or ever consider attaching my real identity to it.  The fear is that if this blog, by some miracle, should ever really "take off" well enough to make a difference in people's lives, then it will also tick off all the wrong people.  Digging could be done to discredit me, and if someone dug deeply enough, I in my foolishness have left enough of a trail that their work could pay off.

"Give it up," the devil whispers, "If you'll stay out of my way, I'll stay out of yours.  Just live a quiet life, keep your religion and your values to yourself, and there will be no reason for anyone to ever make your fears come true."

I offa you a deal out of the kindness of my heart.
If you refuse my generosity, I can't be held responsible
for what happens.  I'm just sayin'.

But I don't intend to do that.  By the power of Christ Who strengthens me, even my writing this post is a defiance of the threat.  I may not be giving details, but I'm admitting here that you shouldn't be surprised by the types of failures I've known and continue to know.  The devil wants me to be afraid that you might find out I do some really rotten things even as I write and speak about healing and faith, so I'm beating him to the punch and confessing it here.

I think that's why the scriptures say "confess your faults to one another."  I don't think that's only about confessing to a priest--there are other scriptures suited for that case--I think it's because being open about our imperfections and shortcomings cuts the fangs of the devil, and robs him of the fuel he has to use against us.  It's a scary thing, but we are called to be courageous.

I hope that if you take nothing else from this post that you take this:  If you're in a similar position, if you've ever worried that your mistakes might catch up with you, if you've ever felt torn between wanting to make a difference but also wanting to cower safely in obscurity, you're not alone.  I feel that very same way.  We're in it together.  Let's see if we can muster courage together too.  

H-Words: Hypocrisy Vs. Honesty

Closely related to my last post, I'm sure that I'm not the only person who knows this feeling:  You're a practicing Christian, who really takes your faith seriously.  You don't believe in picking and choosing which parts of your religion to believe in, so if the Scriptures and Church say that something is wrong, then you accept that.  Not only do you accept it but, taking seriously your Christian duty to share the truth with others, you strive to warn others that these sins lead to destruction and eternal loss.  But there's something that scares you.  You too are a sinner.  Some of the very things you warn others not to do, you do yourself.  You know, all too well, that the modern world has a word for people like you:  "Hypocrite."  "Who are you to tell anybody right from wrong?" they'll ask, "You do the same thing you condemn!  You hypocrite!"

Suddenly, your credibility has been called into question, and the very thing you wanted to accomplish--being a witness for Christ--seems to have been sabotaged in one single insult.  Are your accusers right?  Jesus did a lot of preaching against hypocrisy.  That was one of the titles He applied to the Pharisees and religious leaders of His day with righteous abandon.

Sounds like a rock band:  Get your tickets to see "Righteous Abandon" live!

Actually, the "H" word is used way too lightly these days.  It's nonsense to say that anybody who does X has no right to say that "X is a sin."  If that were the case, the only way you could avoid being a hypocrite would be to think you were perfect.  Think about it, if you never say that anything you do is a sin, the implication is that you don't sin.  The irony of this is that that's exactly what the Pharisees did.  That's right:  The people that Jesus called hypocrites were doing the exact opposite of those against whom the word is often used today.  The Pharisees didn't condemn sins like pride and hardness of heart, in spite of the fact that they did those sins.  No, they conveniently ignored the duty to speak out against those things, and focused only on condemning sins that they didn't struggle with.

To be sure, there is a kind of hypocrisy that involves criticizing others for doing something you yourself do, but that's only if you think the rules to which you hold others don't apply to you.  If I struggle with kleptomania and steal everything in sight, it doesn't make me a hypocrite if I simply warn others that stealing is wrong.  It makes me a hypocrite if I insist that it's wrong when others do it but not when I do it; or if I say that thieves should all be punished by law, but yet if I get caught, I backtrack and say that I am a special exception, rather than admitting that I deserve the same punishment that I say anyone else should get.  Religiously, I am a hypocrite if I tell other people they may go to hell for a sin if they never repent, but I think that if I died without repenting of that same sin "God will understand."  Basically, you're not a hypocrite just because you commit the sins you preach against, but only if you have a double standard about whether it's wrong when you're the one committing it.  Otherwise, it's not hypocrisy; it's another "H" word:  Honesty, namely about right versus wrong. 

It's true that Jesus said we should remove the beam from our own eyes before attempting to pull the speck out of our brother's.  However, this is something very practical.  This has less to do with telling your brother he's sinning--if he is, that's a fact, and there is no hypocrisy in saying so--and far more to do with attempting to "fix" your brother when you yourself have issues of your own.  If I struggle with alcoholism, for example, it's okay to tell my fellow alcoholic that drunkenness is a sin.  But until I myself have conquered my own habit through God's Grace, it just stands to reason that I can't hope to show my brother, or especially a sinner less overwhelmed by his sins, "how it's done."  How can I, if I haven't done it myself?  But that doesn't mean I'm doing my brother a disservice in calling a spade a spade...just as long as I realize it's a spade in my own life too.

Hey, if I call this a spade, but I inwardly mean the playing card,
does it count as a lie?

This is especially relevant to me.  Some of the sins that have claimed me time and again, in some capacity or other, are hot-button issues in our culture today.  They are precisely the sort of sins that people who hate the Church's values love to dig up on Christians, so as to invalidate the message of a believer who happens to be exactly what he says he is:  A fellow sinner.

I hope, as time goes on, to have the courage to speak the truth openly (in love, of course), even when I myself have sinned against that truth.  Because honestly, which is more selfish?  To tell people that a certain path leads to destruction even if I myself have a tendency to flirt with that destruction, or to decide that, if I'm willing to risk my soul, I shouldn't warn anyone else of that risk?