Working With the Receptionist
Hi! I’m the receptionist. There are some things you should know about me and the ways I can, and cannot, help you.
First of all, I’m the low man on the totem pole here at my company. That means that I usually don’t have access to your confidential account information. That also means that I have absolutely no authority to help you. None. I certainly cannot agree to a deviation from company policy, even if you are the most special client we have. Even if you spend seven hundred billion dollars a year with us AND are on a first-name basis with the owner.
So don’t yell at me when I tell you that I can’t help you. I’m not being obstructive. I’m being honest.
Second, my job is very busy. I’m answering anywhere from 5 to 50 phone lines, and I have to transfer calls repeatedly throughout the day. While I try to be accurate, sometimes I may hit a wrong extension number. I AM sorry, and calling me stupid for transferring you to Mr. Smith instead of Mr. Jones is mean. Just so you know, their extensions are only one digit off. And once I’ve hit the digits, I usually can’t start over.
Add to that the fact that I probably have five or six calls coming in at the same time as yours. I don’t want to make you feel unimportant, but when I’ve got the call tones of five different lines ringing, things can get a little hairy. Especially if I am also dealing with a line of customers in front of my desk.
So be a little patient if I have to ask you to hold, or if I accidentally transfer you to the wrong person. Believe me, it IS an accident. I don’t have time to play stupid games or plan how to wreck your day. Really. I’d much rather get you happily off to the person you need, so I can get on with my to-do list.
Third, shocking as it may seem, I’m no superhero. I’m not perfect. I don’t know everything, and I don’t have x-ray vision. I don’t know whether Mr. Smith is in his office or not. There are at least two walls and a door between us. There might be an entire floor — or ten — between us. This is why my company pays for a voice-mail system. If I transfer you to Mr. Smith and he doesn’t answer, then he’s either not in his office, or he’s not taking calls.
If he’s not taking calls, I don’t know why, and it’s rude of you to ask. Maybe he is talking to someone else. Maybe he has a migraine. Maybe he doesn’t like you. I don’t know which — but if you are yelling at me about it, well, I might could hazard a guess. Whatever his reasons for not answering his phone, your best bet is to leave a voice mail. If you know his e-mail address, follow-up with an e-mail. But don’t give me a hard time just because someone over whom I have no control — because he outranks me (see my first point) — isn’t answering his phone. I can’t make him.
If the person you’re calling isn’t answering, calling back repeatedly over the course of several hours isn’t going to make them answer. It’s only going to make you look like a jerk. When you call me every five minutes for two hours, you just make my life more difficult.
When you demand to speak to a person, not a machine, you’re not making my job easier. Our company is divided into departments for a reason. Not just any person can help you. You need the person who is an expert in the area about which you’re calling. Sure, I could transfer you to any random extension, hoping you’ll get a person to answer, but that’s only going to make you AND them mad at me. Them because I wasted their time and didn’t do my job properly, and you because you’ll only get transferred around even more.
Fourth, don’t call people during the lunch hour. At my office, people begin taking their lunch-breaks at 11:30 a.m. Some people leave for lunch as late as 1:30 p.m. In general, if you call between 11:30 a.m. and 1:30 p.m., you can expect to get voice-mail.
Finally, have some patience. If you left your first message this morning at 8:30, don’t call back at noon to tell me that you’ve already left a message and no one is returning your call. It won’t help you to leave six messages between 8:00 a.m. and noon, either. Give the person at least 24 hours to call you back. They may have a meeting to attend, or prior commitments to keep, and may not be in a position to check messages until late in the work-day.
I’m the receptionist. My job is to help you reach the person who can help you. And I can help you best if you help me by remaining polite, calm, and reasonable.
Thoughts on Worship
A continuation of yesterday’s post. Starting with a rather long, but extremely salient, quotation from C.S. Lewis’s Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer.
I think our business as laymen is to take what we are given and make the best of it. And I think we should find this a great deal easier if what we were given was always and everywhere the same.
To judge from their practice, very few … clergymen take this view. It looks as if they believed people can be lured to go to church by incessant brightenings, lightenings, lengthenings, abridgements, simplifications, and complications of the service. And it is probably true that a new, keen vicar will usually be able to form within his parish a minority who are in favour of his innovations. The majority, I believe, never are. Those who remain — many give up churchgoing altogether — merely endure.
Is this simply because the majority are hide-bound? I think not. They have a good reason for their conservatism. Novelty, simply as such, can have only an entertainment value. And they don’t go to church to be entertained. They go to use the service, or, if you prefer, to enact it. Every service is a structure of acts and words through which we receive a sacrament, or repent, or supplicate, or adore. And it enables us to do these things best — if you like, it “works” best — when, through long familiarity, we don’t have to think about it. As long as you notice, and have to count, the steps, you are not yet dancing but only learning to dance. … The perfect church service would be one we were almost unaware of; our attention would have been on God.
But every novelty prevents this. It fixes our attention on the service itself; and thinking about worship is a different thing from worshiping. …
A still worse thing may happen. Novelty may fix our attention not even on the service but on the celebrant. … Try as one may to exclude it, the question “What on earth is he up to now?” will intrude. It lays one’s devotion waste. There is really some excuse for the man who said, “I wish they’d remember that the charge to Peter was ‘Feed my sheep’; not ‘Try experiments on my rats,’ or even, ‘Teach my performing dogs new tricks’.”
Thus my whole liturgiological position really boils down to an entreaty for permanence and uniformity. I can make do with almost any kind of service whatever, if only it will stay put. But if each form is snatched away just when I am beginning to feel at home in it, then I can never make any progress in the art of worship.
… And that brings me back to my starting point. The business of us laymen is simply to endure and make the best of it. Any tendency to a passionate preference for one type of service must be regarded simply as a temptation. … And if we avoid them, may we not possibly perform a very useful function? The shepherds go off, “everyone to his own way,” and vanish over diverse points of the horizon. If the sheep huddle patiently together and go on bleating, might they finally recall the shepherds?
I find much to agree with in this passage.
I DO agree that the main job of the laity is to make the best of whatever spiritual sustenance is on offer, even if the “menu” is not entirely palatable.
I also agree that it is much easier to FIND the good if you know what to expect when you sit down at table. Consistency is not necessarily stagnation. Sometimes consistency is the bedrock on which beauty is built. If you serve a different recipe every time you serve chocolate-chip cookies, no one will be able to characterize what YOUR cookies are like.
I think that we too often think we can boost our numbers with innovation and modernization. And we may see an increase in numbers. But is anyone counting the ones who leave, fed up with not being able to relax long enough to weed out the good from the dross?
As Lewis says, I don’t go to worship to be entertained. I go to worship to receive sacraments, to adore, to approach closer to God than I can alone. There is an enormous difference between me, on my own, singing a song of adoration to God, and the music of a large group offering their music corporately. Likewise, there is power in corporate prayer that solitary prayer lacks. Corporate prayer binds the will of all of the congregation and cements it to the will of God — increasing the power of the prayer exponentially. (Please understand that I do not, in any way, mean to denigrate the value of personal worship, prayer, or devotions.)
I DO find that when the standard form of worship is altered, I am more easily distracted and feel “on edge” — as if I am constantly wondering “what’s going to happen next?” When I don’t know what to expect, I feel very much as I do when my theatre ensemble first works with blocking — nervous, unsettled, apprehensive. I don’t want to make a mistake, so I can’t relax into my role. Once the blocking is set, I can begin to settle into my part. And once I settle into it, I can both give the most to it and get the most from it. As Lewis says, “As long as you notice the steps, you are not yet dancing….”
And so, like Lewis, I am left bleating at my shepherds: “Give me permanence. Give me predictable. Give me something comfortable.” I only hope that the shepherds will hear, and listen, and come back to where this frightened, bewildered sheep is huddled with her fellow sheep, waiting to be fed.
Thoughts on Worship vs. Teaching
Background Note: Following are thoughts sparked by a Facebook conversation in which a few people expressed concern over some things that were occurring in our church’s worship services. The initial concern was over inappropriate behaviour such as texting and snacking. As the conversation continued, some people expressed discomfort with the use of movie clips during the service, and with the shift from the traditional liturgy to a less structured service, with the omission of the Psalter and Creeds, and similar changes.
I think that there is a difference between worship and teaching, and maybe this is where the confusion is coming in. I don’t think anyone is saying that we see no value in the various things we have identified as being inappropriate in a worship service. We are only saying that we feel that they are out of place. And if you draw a distinction between worship and teaching, and between the sacred and the secular, then our objections make sense.
Worship is focused on God Himself. It seeks to acknowledge, quantify, praise, and attend to all that is worthy, good, and admirable about God. It seeks to give Him honour, acknowledge His glory, and magnify Him with praise. It requires undivided attention to the Person of God.
Teaching is focused on learning ABOUT God. It is less concerned with praise and giving honour than with understanding who God is and how He wants us to act as His children or His followers.
While teaching has been a traditional part of the worship service since early times, it has represented only a small portion of the service. Much of the service has traditionally been centered around prayer, scripture and creeds, and music. Prayer in many modes: corporate, individual, pastoral; spontaneous, scripted, and liturgical. Scripture read by one person to the congregation. Scripture recited by the congregation. Responsive readings of Psalms and other scripture. Music also in many modes, both vocal and instrumental: corporate singing, soloists and small ensembles, call-and-response hymnody. Teaching, as homilies, sermons, or explanations of the scripture, has traditionally taken only a small portion of the worship service.
However, teaching has a large function in the church, and in non-worship gatherings of God’s people. Jesus’s ministry was focused on teaching. He taught people who God is and how we could be reconciled to Him. When we have Bible study, small group, Sunday school, and the like, we are following in the steps of Christ as teacher.
But when we worship, the focus is to be on God Himself. When people are granted an audience with the Pope or a reigning monarch, they exercise self-control: they wouldn’t dream of hauling in a bottle of water and a bag of chips, much less of texting someone else or taking a call on their cell phone while sitting there with the Pope or the Queen. It would be disrespectful. Irreverent.
How much more respect and reverence should God receive from us? If we understand the inappropriateness of texting or snacking while in the middle of a papal audience, why can we not understand that the sanctuary is God’s house and that the activities that take place there should be reverent and respectful of the Holiness that is God?
I recognize that God is also our Father, and, as such, we have a more personal relationship with Him that we can with the Pope. But there is still a place for reverence and respect, even when dealing with your dad.
There is a division between the secular and the sacred. Bringing the secular into the sacred realm causes deep discomfort for those who recognize this division. Worship is concerned with the sacred. Teaching seeks to find the common ground between the sacred and the secular. Movies, kids’ games, snacks, and the like are generally considered to be “secular.” Thus, they are appropriate for teaching venues, but not worship venues.
It should also be said that one expects adults to exercise a level of self-control that cannot be expected of children. I don’t mind a parents feeding his child Cheerios or providing a bottle or sippy-cup to keep the child quiet and amused during the service. But a teenager or adult who can’t last an hour without a snack …. that is going to raise concerns for me. Likewise, I have no problem with a child coloring, or playing with a quiet toy, during the service. But a teenager or adult needs to be focusing on the service, not on a video game, cell phone, or even a book.
Most middle class Americans tend to worship their work, to work at their play, and to play at their worship. (Gordon Dahl. Work, Play, and Worship in a Leisure-Oriented Society. )
If even the secular world can recognize that our observances are out of whack, can we not do so … and begin to set the dissonances right? It might mean both sides of the situation having to truly listen to each other. It might mean refusing to allow personal attacks and negative characterizations. It might mean people on both sides having to be humble enough to accept compromise. But I think it would be more in the spirit of “one holy catholic church” than the current, intermittent donnybrook is.
In Letters to Malcolm and Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis had some good thoughts on this topic. I will post them tomorrow, as today’s post is already 900 words long.
Instant Obedience?
The discussion at this blog over whether God expects first-time obedience from us struck a chord with me. I believe that He does, usually, expect us to obey Him instantly and without question. However, there are plenty of examples in Scripture where God shows mercy and gives a second chance. While I could give several examples, the one that I think is most striking is that of Jonah.
God said, “Jonah, go to Ninevah.”
Jonah said, “Oh, heck no!” and ran away to Tarshish … the opposite end of the world.
God didn’t strike Jonah dead. He DID show His wrath by bringing a storm and making it clear to the sailors that the storm was Jonah’s fault. But He showed mercy to Jonah by letting the whale swallow him and giving him time to reconsider. Then He had the whale spit Jonah out on the beach so that Jonah could do as he was told. In other words, God gave Jonah a second chance.
It seems to me that those who were severely punished were violating laws that had been set down, clearly, in advance, and laws that they had been warned carried the penalty of death.
Uzzah: When God commissioned the Ark of the Covenant, He stated quite clearly that , after it was consecrated, it was not to be touched, on penalty of death. (Num. 4) By touching the Ark, even out of good intentions, Uzzah violated the sanctity of the Ark.
Dathan, Abiram, and Korah: God made it quite clear that His altars were to be used for His glory, and that anyone who did not follow His instructions for the sacrifices would be killed. By offering unauthorized sacrifices (strange fire), these men violated the sanctity of the altar of God.
Adam and Eve: God said “in the day that you eat of that tree’s fruit, you shall surely die.”
Saul: Saul had more second chances than you might think, but he just kept on doing it his way. Consulting with a witch, when God said “Don’t allow a witch to live.” Letting Agag live and keeping some of Agag’s livestock when God said, “Completely destroy all of the Amalekites and everything they own.” Offering sacrifices to God, when God has clearly said that the priest, and ONLY the priest, was to offer sacrifices. Saul’s disobedience was a lifelong pattern that showed his unwillingness to submit to God’s rules.
Over and over, we see that those people who are struck down instantly violated God’s holiness. The people who violated other instructions were usually allowed to live and given second chances. They still had to deal with the consequences of their actions (Adam and Eve and the curse, David and the death of his baby, Saul and the loss of his kingdom, Jonah and three days in a fish’s guts, Samson’s slavery and blindness …), but God allowed them physical life and chances to repent.
I think we have to keep that in mind with our kids. Outright rebellion that challenges the parent’s authority as parent — “you’re not the boss of me,” “I won’t” — requires swift, decisive punishment. But childishnesss, foolishness, forgetfulness, and the myriad other ways that a child can disobey without malicious intent, these require mercy, understanding, and gentle correction.
I have found this true with my two boys. I tried the “instant obedience” rubric with my first, but I found that it created barriers between us. It exasperated and frustrated him — putting me in disobedience to God, who has told me not to provoke my children to anger. When I learned which hills were worth dying on and stopped punishing the same way for every infraction, my relationship with my son improved dramatically.
One resource that has helped me to develop Biblical consequences for misbehaviour is the book “For Instruction in Righteousness,” written by Pam Forster. It’s a topical Bible, of sorts, that analyzes many different kinds of behaviour by listing the Bible passages that refer to it. Thus, for example, since God says that the person who won’t work should not eat, an appropriate consequence for a child who refuses to do his assigned chores would be to miss a meal. But if he chooses to then do the chores, he should be allowed to eat; he should not be refused the rewards of repentance.
Why I Love My Dad
I’ve written before (several times) about why I think my dad hung the sun, moon, and stars. But I don’t know that I’ve ever mentioned one thing that he does that touches me deeply.
All my life, my dad has given my mom cards. All the time. Birthdays, Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day, anniversary … and sometimes just because. I just assumed that was something all husbands did. I assumed wrong, as many of my married friends have informed me.
Now, when I was in my early 20s, Daddy would call and take me to lunch on my birthday. When I lived in Chicago, he’d send me a birthday card. When I was home, his card would be on the table, waiting for me at breakfast on my birthday. And my family always exchanged cards on Valentine’s Day, too — though now that cards are so frightfully expensive, we don’t do them so much.
But when I opened my mailbox on Saturday, there was Daddy’s Valentine’s card to me. And I realized that ever since my divorce, he has made it a point to make sure my Valentine’s Day isn’t empty. I can count on a card — in the mail — from Daddy on my birthday and on Valentine’s Day. Every year. For ten years now. And he started taking me to lunch on my birthday again after the divorce. Because he wants me to feel special. And I do. His love makes me feel so very special.
It’s those little, thoughtful, loving gestures that make him special. He remembers important dates and recognizes them. He cares that I don’t feel alone or forgotten on days like Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, and my birthday. And he catches little offhand comments, like the one I made many years ago about there never being anything in my mailbox but bills, and makes his observances even more touching.
Just another reason that I adore Daddy. He loves me. And he shows it.
Why I Like the Volkswagen Super Bowl Commercial
I don’t usually comment on commercials … commercials are, in general, either annoying interruptions or moments to take what my pilot friends call “bio-breaks.” I generally see practically no value in commercials.
BUT.
The Volkswagen 2011 Super Bowl commercial made me smile. Not just because I’ve both been and had the little kid desperately trying to channel “the Force” to make stuff do something. Yes, the nostalgic note is there. But it’s not why I like this commercial.
I like this commercial because FINALLY we have an engaged, loving, compassionate FATHER on the television. A man who acts like a grown-up. A man who KNOWS his kid and meets the kid’s needs — even the “silly” ones.
Here’s this kid, dejected because he can’t channel the Force. Frustrated because even the DOG won’t play along with him. (And I could say something about the mom and her “oh, brother” look … but I won’t. No one’s going to get EVERYTHING right.)
And here comes his dad, pulling into the driveway. The child comes running out the front door, and dad holds out his arms for a big welcome home hug … but gets pushed out of the way as his little boy goes to try the Force on one last target.
Does dad throw a fit? Does he get mad and ream out the kid for his lack of love, respect, gratefulness, whatever? Does he tell him to come along inside and leave the car alone? To stop being silly?
No. Dad is smart enough to catch on to the game — and his son’s mood — even though he hasn’t seen the boy’s day-long exercise in frustration and disappointment. He plays along with his kid! Dad goes inside, looks out the window, and clicks the remote starter on the car … giving his son the thrill of a lifetime as “the Force” works for him!
Now, I can hear those making the case that the dad “lied” to his kid. That the dad should have explained that the Force is fantasy. Yada yada yada.
This dad met his son’s need. He “played along” with his son’s game. And showed love for his child. I applaud it. I’ve written before about my concern over the amount of disrespect that men get from the media. I’m glad when I see commercials like this one, which depict a father who is intelligent, responsible, caring, and engaged with his kid.
I also applaud the accompanying nod to traditional family values. This man is married to his child’s mother. He is clearly the breadwinner and providing well for his family. His wife is clearly taking care of her son and making a home — and she’s wearing a wedding ring. She’s also wearing reasonable everyday clothes. The parents clearly have a close enough relationship that the husband can communicate with his wife with just a lifted eyebrow and a half-smile.
Bravo — and thank you — to VW and their ad team for a job well done.
Scary Days
My sons are sick. It started Friday at supper time. Baby Boy couldn’t keep his food down and had a low-grade fever. I gave him plenty of water and kept him in bed all weekend. He couldn’t keep anything down … not chicken broth, not even a snow cone. There’s nothing in a snow cone but water and sugar! By Sunday, I was getting worried and figured I’d get him to the pediatrician on Monday.
On Saturday, my older son went to Merit Badge College and worked on his cycling and law badges. On Sunday, he was draggy and listless all day. I assumed it was because we were all tired, so I made him go to youth group while I was at handbell practise. (Baby Boy, aka King Ralph, stayed home in bed.) On the way home, though, he was almost in tears and told me that his back and neck hurt terribly … that they’d been aching all day. (Why don’t they tell you this stuff before it gets unbearable?) I reached over to smooth his hair and burned my hand on his forehead. He hadn’t had a fever before, but he sure had one now.
So I did what my SIL hates: I roared into the minor med clinic 15 minutes before closing time. With both kids in tow. I figured that since I had to bring Fever Boy in, we’d take a look at King Ralph, too. They were very nice.
King Ralph turned out to have a double ear infection, and they figured the hard coughing he was doing was, as I suspected, the reason for the stomach issue. Gave him amoxicillin for the ear bugs and phenergan for the hurling.
Fever Boy, on the other hand, had to be difficult. The minor med doctor ruled out strep and influenza, but could not rule out meningitis — which the achy neck and high fever (103+!) made us suspect. So I took King Ralph to my parents’ house to spend the night, and took Fever Boy to the ER.
The ER doctors scoffed at the idea of meningitis. (But at least the fear factor of it means they see you RIGHT NOW.) I can’t stand doctors who scoff. They tell you things like “if you have a fever, a headache, and a stiff neck, it could be dangerous, so go straight to the ER.” Then some smart-aleck know-it-all who thinks the stethoscope ’round his neck means he’s somehow better and smarter than everyone else and the fact that he works in a hospital instead of a clinic means he’s better than most doctors, too, smiles superciliously, looks down his nose at you and tells you he seriously doubts it’s anything as dangerous as meningitis. Whatever. Just figure out why my kid has a fever of 103 and the only thing hurting is his neck, would ya?
Three hours, several sample tubes of blood, a saline drip (“in case he’s dehydrated” — which I could have told them he wasn’t), and a couple thousand dollars later, they confirmed that it wasn’t strep, ‘flu, or meningitis, told us it was a systemic viral infection, and sent us home.
It was quite a relief that he isn’t dangerously, deathly ill. But both poor kids are still pretty sick. So we check in with the pediatrician tomorrow. Fever Boy is still running a fever … though it’s dropped from 103 to 101. King Ralph seems to be doing better; food seems to be staying where he puts it now, and his cough is a little better.
Since I got a mere 4 hours of sleep Sunday night and got through Monday on sheer determination and 5-Hour Energy shots, I went straight to bed very early Monday night. Today was better, but I’m still dragging. So I’m off to bed early again tonight.
On Being “Worthy”
I have a friend who is going through a faith crisis at the moment, and she recently said that she was not “worthy” of God’s love or forgiveness.
I was writing to her to discuss this idea when I realized that there might be other people I know who are also struggling. So my letter to a friend becomes a letter to my friends. If you are struggling with feeling unworthy, please read on.
NONE of us is “worthy” of God’s love of forgiveness. NONE. Not you. Not me. Not my mom and dad. Not Robert Blackstone. Not Adrian Rogers or Billy Graham. Not ANY of us. That is what the New Testament is all about.
WE are sinners. No two ways about it. No way to make it pretty. SINNERS.
That means that we CANNOT do ANYTHING to make ourselves worthy of God’s love and forgiveness.
Bill Gates giving away ten billion dollars does not make him worthy.
Mother Teresa’s selfless life given for the poor in India does not make her worthy.
Oprah Winfrey starting schools for underprivileged girls in Africa does not make her worthy.
NOTHING we do makes us worthy.
NOTHING.
GOD is holy. He cannot bear sin.
He feels about sin the way you and I feel about a roadkill possum lying in front of our mailbox with its guts hanging out and blood and flies everywhere.
He DETESTS it.
It makes Him PUKE.
But He MADE mankind. He pronounced them GOOD. And He LOVES them.
Mankind screwed it up.
So God has to fix it.
Why?
Because when someone screws up, someone has to clean up the mess.
If the person who made it cannot do it, then someone else has to take the time and effort.
When your daughter was 3 and knocked over her juice and it went all over the kitchen, she couldn’t clean it up. You had to do it.
When my sons are playing ball and break the picture window, not only do we all have to clean up the broken glass, but I have to pay to replace it, because my sons have no way to earn the $2000 it would cost.
God sees that we are not capable of fixing our sinfulness ourselves.
We are not strong. We don’t fight temptation very well.
That’s what the Bible means when it says that God knows our “frame” — what makes us — and He knows we are only dust.
The whole point of the Old Testament was to show us that we cannot fix ourselves.
That all the rules and laws in the world, no matter how perfectly kept, will not fix the real problem.
Oh, they may make us LOOK good, but we are still rotten at the core.
Because we are rotten AT OUR CORE, we cannot do ANYTHING to fix ourselves or to pay for our mistakes.
NOTHING.
Because even at our best, we are rotten.
If you have an apple with a wormy middle, you can polish its skin and set it in the fruit basket and it will look beautiful. But if someone takes a bite, they get rottenness and worms. UGH.
That wormy apple can do nothing to fix its rottenness.
It cannot make itself fit to eat.
Now, you or I could come along, slice it up, remove the worms and rotten bits, wash it off really well, and use the bits in fritters or a pie.
But the apple cannot do anything to make itself worth your notice.
It just sits there, rotten.
Its nasty, and it is worthy of the trash bin.
The fact that you or I come along and do something with it does not change its worthiness.
Its new worth comes from the fact that someone took the time to see value in it, clean it up, and give it a new purpose.
It would be US giving the apple worth.
Make sense?
That is what God does with us.
HE sees value in us.
Mostly because He made us.
He sees the lovely skin that makes our apple look so pretty — maybe we volunteer for church service or sing in the choir or give huge amounts of money for worthy causes or help feed the homeless or teach a Bible study or go to third-world countries as missionaries — whatever it is that is our “pretty skin.”
But God has x-ray vision. He sees through the skin to the soul.
And He sees the selfishness and the hope to be noticed and the yearning to be praised and the self-righteousness and the holier-than-thou attitudes and the anger when people point out our hypocrisy and the laziness and the pride that tells us we’re better than so-and-so because at least we don’t … whatever.
He sees it ALL.
Your soul is NAKED before God.
You cannot fool Him.
Your mask of generous kindness or meek submission does not fool HIM for a minute. It may fool all your friends and family, but it does not fool God.
That is why God is so scary.
You cannot pretend with Him.
So because you are not worthy of God’s love and forgiveness, and because you cannot make yourself worthy of them, you are LOST.
And you feel this.
You feel adrift.
You don’t know where you’re going or what you should do.
You feel alone.
You feel anxious and empty.
You are a slave to your past.
You are afraid to trust.
You cannot break free of the hurts others have inflicted on you.
You have this deep longing for something, but you aren’t even sure what.
You just know that you are unhappy.
Like there is a hole in you.
But you don’t know what to fill the hole with.
Maybe you’ve tried drugs. Or sex. Or retail therapy.
Or maybe you self-medicate with food. Or liquor.
Or maybe you escape into movies or television or story books.
None of it has filled that hole.
None of it has made you more than momentarily happy.
And none of it makes you any less worthy of God’s love and forgiveness.
The Bible says that sinners will not inherit God’s kingdom.
Sinners: people who lie, cheat, steal, and murder. Who envy, brag, don’t keep their promises. Idol worshippers. Extortioners. Adulterers. Fornicators. Alcoholics. (More here and here.)
BUT it goes on to say that even though some of us may have done those things, what we were in the past will be WASHED AWAY.
How do you get washed?
Well, you accept the free gift of salvation.
You tell God you are a sinner.
You tell Him you are sorry for the wrongs you have done, wrongs that offended Him and rejected Him.
You ask Him to forgive you sins and help you turn away from them.
You ask Him to become the king in your life, to teach you and lead you and make you more like Him.
That’s it.
The Bible says “Whoever calls on the name of the Lord SHALL be saved.”
It says, “If you confess with your mouth and believe in your heart that God has raised the Lord Jesus from the dead, you SHALL be saved.”
And the Bible says that you do NOT have to be worthy.
It says “We are justified by faith, not by the works specified in the law.”
In fact, it specifically says that God planned it that way so that no one could brag about it: “You are saved through faith in God’s grace. It is His gift to you; you did not earn it by being good, so you cannot boast about it.”
What is “grace”? Grace is God’s determination to treat you better than you deserve.
My friend, do not wait to be worthy. Do not hold back by fear of being rejected.
The Bible says “WHOEVER calls on the name of the Lord SHALL be saved.”
Jesus is the Good Shepherd who leads you to God and makes you good in God’s eyes. It is JESUS who is worthy, and we are the unworthy beneficiaries of His good works. Ask Him to come and help you. To make you clean. To make you new. To clean you of all your sin and make you whiter than snow.