When I was in high school we got a little orange cat from the pound. We named him Kumquat because he was such a very small orange; he fit in the palm of your hand. He didn’t stay that way, though. He grew. But he never figured it out. He had formed the habit of sleeping on the round needlepoint footstool in front of the fire, all curled up with his tail over his nose, the way cats do. But Kumquat grew up, and out. And in order to keep from falling off he had to curl up very tightly, into a very cramped, un-cat-like sort of position - and then as soon as he fell asleep and relaxed, part of him would fall off the stool, and he’d wake up with an enormous start, look around as if to say, "who did that to me?" and ponderously reposition himself. He never did learn to take his afternoon naps somewhere else.
People are a lot like that: not able to see themselves clearly, and so making the same mistakes over and over. It’s called denial.
Last week we talked about integrity, about being the same on the inside as on the outside. Now, it’s relatively easy to look good on the outside. Not a day at the beach, mind you, but easier than starting on the inside. And the easiest way of all to look good on the outside is to stay away from the beach altogether. Hang around where the light is just a little more flattering, where you can make sure that the cameras only catch your good side. But you know, that’s really a lot of work, isn’t it. And you have to be careful all the time. What if people really knew what you were like on the inside? It’s a full time job, keeping the whitewash fresh. Ego is a cruel taskmaster, you don’t get paid for overtime, and you don’t really get much in the way of benefits, either. And it’s such a waste of time and energy, because God, whose opinion is the only one that really matters, already knows. So one aspect of the freedom which we have in Christ is freedom from that particular brand of slave labor. In what theologian Bernard Ramm calls “the bondage of self-deception” we keep repeating the same destructive behaviors over and over again. But that freedom can only begin to unfold as the light of God’s truth enables us to see what’s really going on underneath.
There is a list of behaviors that Paul says are incompatible with life as children of God. Why is that? Are we back to the legalism of earning God’s favor by following the rules? Of course not! These behaviors are merely symptoms of deeper wounds, life-destroying breaks in our essential integrity. Paul’s not encouraging us just to cover up the symptoms of our sinfulness, he’s encouraging us to let the Holy Spirit get to work on the root causes. Because if we don’t get our hearts clean, the symptoms are just going to keep coming back, more and more resistant to the medication, more and more destructive of our spiritual well-being. It’s like treating chronic diarrhea with higher and higher doses of antibiotics instead of digging your well uphill from the septic tank.
In order to live as children of light, as Paul calls us to do in v. 8, we have to stop hiding in the shadows, where the wrinkles and zits and gray hairs don’t show. God can only start cleaning us up after we take a good hard look at ourselves in the full light of day, and then ‘fess up. Remember that confession simply means agreeing with God. But in order to agree with God, we have to see with his eyes, from his perspective.
Now, I know that we all hide our true selves at one time or another. Sometimes we hide from fear, sometimes from shame, sometimes from habit, and sometimes from simple prudence.
But there are three people from whom we cannot hide if we are to mature as Christians.
First, we must stop hiding from ourselves. This is not an easy decision to make. One of the reasons which many people resist the good news of the gospel is because we don’t want to face what we’ve spent so much energy trying to hide. As Jesus said, “the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.” [Jn 3:19] The first glimmer of light may be startling, even frightening. When Peter realized that he was in the boat with the very son of God, “he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’" [Lk 5:8] But that very first glimpse of light shows us our need for Christ; and it is only as we recognize our need that we are able to receive the forgiveness and cleansing that is so freely offered. “Therefore it says, "Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.”.” [v. 14 ]
Paul was writing to the Ephesians, most of whom had been adult converts. For that reason, they were able to make a clear distinction between "before-and-after" which may be hard for some of us to relate to our own experience. But the moment of waking from sleep into life (mixed metaphors, I know, but Paul mixed them first) which results in conversion comes from letting a new light shine on our old lives so that we can see them in a different way. And the decision to move from the old life to the new is only the beginning. You have to leave the light on so that all of your life - thought, word and deed - can be re-evaluated in the light of the gospel of Christ.
It’s something like getting your first pair of glasses. You go to the optometrist, and he puts this gadget on your nose, and then he flips different lenses back and forth until you can read the chart. The moment of conversion is like the moment when you realize just how much there was that you couldn’t really see before, when the reality around you suddenly springs into focus. But just getting the glasses isn’t enough; you can’t just take them home and put ’em in your breast pocket, only putting them on now and then to read the fine print in a contract or when you trip over something. You have to wear them all the time for your life to change.
John Wesley, talking of the conversion process, said that the new believer will often rest for days or months in the peace which follows the initial decision, but after a while they begin to become aware of "the ground of their heart, which God before would not disclose unto them lest the soul should fail before Him, and the spirit which He had made. Now they see...the depths of [their] pride and self-will...." The hidden places of our hearts are not a pretty sight. But God, in his grace, doesn’t require us to face the truth about ourselves alone. He goes with us.
Now you’ve probably heard me telling the story of my godson Ted and his struggle with night terrors when he was about three, and how the cure was having Daddy put him to bed after checking the dark corners for monsters. Eventually when the subject of monsters came up he’d announce that if they tried to hurt his little brother Philip he’d punch them right in the nose.
We all have monsters - perhaps yours is pride, or anger, fear, vanity, ambition, lust or greed. It’s no fun to look at them. It’s easier to avoid the corners where they lurk, to whistle bravely and pretend they’re not there. But Christ will hold our hand, if we let him, when we go to confront them. He has already punched them in the nose, so to speak, and will drive them out forever if we bring him who is our light into the shadows of our lives.
That sounds pretty, doesn’t it... a sermonic cliche if there ever was one. How on earth does one go about taking Christ into the corners? It means being willing to admit our most shameful secrets to ourselves, and consciously inviting Jesus to be free of those secrets. It means being aware that he is with us all the time, and talking to him openly about those thoughts or habits or memories that oppress us. And it means remembering and believing that God will forgive and cleanse and heal. But it is only when we are willing to look into our own hearts that we can
take them to God for renewal.
Because the second person we have to come clean with is God. Look again at v. 10: “Try to find out what is pleasing to the Lord.”
That’s not a particularly difficult task, actually. What pleases God is for us to be “poor in spirit.” [Mt 5:3] That means to acknowledge him, to depend on him, to place ourselves under his protection and tutelage. In Genesis 3, after Adam and Eve ate the apple, they were naked, and ashamed, and they hid from God. We have just as much - or more - reason to be ashamed, but we are not naked; we are clothed in Christ, and through him we may approach God freely, confident that he will not turn us away.
No matter what it is that we have done, or said, or thought, or felt, I doubt that any of us can outdo King David. He seduced a woman and then killed her husband to keep from being found out. And yet as soon as he saw what he had done, David brought it to God, saying, "You desire truth in our inmost parts,"[Ps 51:6] and "create in me a pure heart, and renew a steadfast spirit within me." [Ps 51:10] He knew that God was the one who could create that clean heart, that it was not within his powers to cleanse himself. And later he said, “Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my thoughts. See if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” [Ps 139:23-24]
David knew that there might be other areas of his life about which he was deceiving himself. Being honest with God often entails going back and retrieving more forgotten items from the back of that closet.
David is the best possible example to follow in our communications with God, because he was so completely open. Too often I think we want to use specially holy language, showing specially holy thoughts when we talk to God. But it doesn’t do any good to say pious, pretty things when what we’re thinking is, "I’m too tired to pray," or “I am really mad at God for doing this - whatever it may be - to me” or "the next time the jerk next door blocks my driveway I’m going to spray paint his windshield." Tell God what you are thinking. If you’re sorry you’re not feeling more saintly tell Him. If you’re having trouble believing he’s forgiven you tell Him. If you’re so angry you can hardly see straight tell Him. If you know you should be sorry for something but aren’t really tell Him. If He seems to be so
far away that you’re not sure He’s there any more then for goodness sake, tell Him. He knows our frame. He knows we are dust.
The body of Christ is not often as forgiving as God is. It is one thing to trust God. It’s quite another to trust people. But one of the functions of the body of Christ is to minister to the wounded soul on behalf of Christ. And neither healing nor growth can take place as long we’re all busy pretending to be something we’re not.
As difficult as it may be, we must also stop hiding from one another. Paul says to "Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them." [v. 11] This does not mean that we are to go sniffing around after other people’s secrets. But neither are we to connive with sin by keeping our true lives hidden, and encouraging others to do the same. Each life lived in the light is a defeat for the powers of darkness. It shows up how sad and empty and futile the life lived in darkness really is. Transparency allows the light of Christ to be seen both in us and through us. Transparency allows God’s grace to flow freely from one person to another.
It is not possible to live as a child of light in isolation. Dietrich Bonhoeffer said that "sin demands to have a man by himself... The more isolated a person is, the more destructive will be the power of sin over him, and the more deeply he becomes involved in it." Shame and fear are tools Satan uses to keep us imprisoned. And as ministers of the gospel, we hold the keys which can help other people live as freely as Christ means them to.
My first church used to hold a service every Thanksgiving for the members of the congregation to give thanks for what God has done in their lives. Sometimes it’s easy to do. It’s fun to share triumphs. But other times it’s not so easy. One year it seemed to take all my strength simply to get up in the morning, much less rejoice, or witness, or serve. But the week before I had been offered a tiny ray of light - the reminder that even if I faltered Christ was faithful, that it was his strength I counted on and not my own. Well, I wasn’t going to confess that, my word, how humiliating. So I sat there sort of hunkered down in my seat saying to God, "if you want me to say something you’ll have to drag me up there yourself." The next thing I knew there I was behind the mike talking to the congregation and saying to God at the same time, "All right, Lord. I’m up here. And if one person needed to hear this - just one - then the humiliation is worth it." And after the service a woman I had never met came up to me and thanked me for sharing, saying, "I thought I was the only person who felt like that." We had breakfast together the following morning and went on giving each other a helping hand now and then for the next year.
In the passage preceding ours Paul said to “put away falsehood [and] speak the truth to our neighbors.” [v. 4:25] This doesn’t just mean don’t tell lies. It also means don’t live lies. Sure it’s risky. Sure you can be hurt. Sure some will hold your vulnerability against you. But if you need comfort, give others an opportunity to share the comfort Christ has given them. If you have been comforted, let others take comfort in the hope that they too can be made whole. How can I love you if I don’t know who you are? How can you bear my burdens if I don’t let you see them? How can you lift someone up if you imply that you don’t know what it’s like to be down? How can you glorify God for what he has done in your life if you keep silent about how little he had to work on?
We talked before about David, and of how we should follow his example of confessing and repenting with his whole heart the minute he realized what he had done. But I’ll bet you don’t remember what led up to his confession. David would never have confessed without the prophet Nathan.
"He came to [the King] and said, ’There were two men ... one rich and the other poor. The rich man had very many flocks and herds; but the poor man had nothing but one little ewe lamb... He brought it up, and it grew up with him and with his children... and it was like a daughter to him. Now there came a traveler to the rich man, and he was loath to take one of his own flock or herd to prepare for the wayfarer who had come to him, but he took the poor man’s lamb, and prepared that for the guest who had come to him.’ Then David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man. He said to Nathan, ’As the LORD lives, the man who has done this deserves to die; he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity.’
"Nathan said to David, ’You are the man! Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel:... you have despised me; you have struck down Uriah the Hittite with the sword, and have taken his wife to be your wife... ’"[2 Sa 12:1-10]
Nathan was a court prophet. His job was to keep David faithful to his side of the covenant relationship which God had established with him. Well, we don’t have court prophets. We have to perform this function for one another. Holding one another accountable to the integrity to which Christ calls us is an extremely important part of loving our sisters and brothers in Christ. We hold a mirror up to one another so that mold and mildew and other unpleasant things don’t accumulate in the hard-to-see places. We do this not out to be judgmental, or legalistic, or holier-than-thou, but for the good of the whole body and each member of it .
Remember that list of things Paul tells us Christians better not indulge in? They fall into three categories. Sex, money, and talk. All of these things are good gifts of God. Now, you may not think that money is a gift, but how we use our property is important to God, and money is simply a way of keeping track of property.
Money, sex and language are all gifts. They are powerful gifts for good. But every gift God has given us is easily twisted into being tools for evil. How we handle these gifts is always a reflection of the condition of our hearts, a way in which our interior life inevitably shows up on the outside. They are warning signs of deadly danger.
Destructive speech is the hardest to hide and the one we most commonly ignore. But this passage and others make it clear that gossip and malicious talk and dirty jokes are just as dangerous as adultery or theft. They are early warning signs of trouble to come, and as such we do no one any favors by indulging in them. It’s easier to hide greed or promiscuity. All you have to do is live a double life - compartmentalize, as it were. And can you imagine any thing more destructive to the Christian’s call to live in integrity?
Integrity - the non-negotiable basic ingredient of morality - requires transparency. It is only when we live transparent lives that Christ’s light - which he gives to us all for our good - can shine through us and become a light for others as well.
"Hear, my child, and accept my words, that the years of your life may be many. When you walk, your step will not be hampered; and if you run, you will not stumble... Do not enter the path of the wicked, and do not walk in the way of evildoers. ... For they eat the bread of wickedness and drink the wine of violence. But the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day." [Pr 4:10]
