I did something yesterday that I’ve never done before. I rented a car and drove to Colorado Springs. When I woke up yesterday morning, I hadn’t planned to do it. When I posted yesterday’s blog, I didn’t realize I’d be writing today’s blog at the St. Francis Hospital in Colorado Springs.
But my life is just kind of funny like that.
To make a very long story short, my parents were vacationing in Colorado and my mom ended up having a problem with one of her fingers. Basically, she had to go in for emergency surgery. And I waited around home as long as I could, but when things started getting (more) complicated, I couldn’t stand it any longer. And I jumped.
One rented car. Most of my desk work from the office. An awesome boss who understands. Seriously…. the whole thing just ran really smoothly and I made it safely to Colorado Springs in about eight hours.
What was interesting to me, though, is that my rental car had Missouri plates. It was a little dark blue Nissan Altima. Really nice car. Did the job very well.
But as I was driving along the highway, another car pulled up beside me. A couple in the front seat looked at me and then drove on past, and I realized they had Missouri plates too. Maybe they knew someone with a dark blue Nissan Altima from Missouri? Maybe they thought they knew me? (or maybe they were just being weird)
Either way, they were obviously disappointed when they drove by and saw me inside. Not from Missouri. A Transplanted Texan who calls Kansas home.
They saw my rented car and expected to see someone they knew inside, but when they got a look at the inside, it wasn’t what they thought.
And I couldn’t help but think about how that relates to other aspects of life, especially in my study about attitude.
Today’s verses are Matthew 23:25-26.
What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you are so careful to clean the outside of the cup and the dish, but inside you are filthy—full of greed and self-indulgence! You blind Pharisee! First wash the inside of the cup and the dish, and then the outside will become clean, too.
How many times do you meet someone who presents the image of a “Good Christian,” the consummate Christ-follower, the role model believer? I’ve known a lot of them. But once I really got to know them, once I peeled back the layers and the masks and peeked inside the car windows, I got to see them for who they really were. And I was disappointed.
No, nobody is perfect, and we shouldn’t expect people to be perfect. We shouldn’t judge people for not meeting expectations. We shouldn’t judge people at all because we don’t know their hearts or their situations. But if you encounter a “good Christian” it’s normal to assume that their character will match their appearance. And that’s not always the case.
Those types of Christians have done more damage to the faith than anyone else. I’ve run into so many people who have chosen not to follow God because they’ve met Christians who don’t act like Christians.
So I don’t want to be like that. Not ever. I want my inside self, my character, my thoughts, my everything to be genuine, to be real, and to be 100% sold out to Christ.
It’s difficult, though. When you’ve grown up in the church, when you’ve lived so much of your life around church people, it’s so easy to put on a face. It’s so easy to put the mask on and act like a super Christian. And I’m not talking about teaching. I’m not talking about sharing the Bible with people. I’m not talking about trying to live a life and make choices that honor God.
But what about if someone asks how you’re doing? What about if you’re struggling with your faith? What about if you’re struggling in general? It’s so much easier to put a mask on and pretend like everything is okay, but that’s not healthy. And it’s not helpful.
No, I’m not going to be perfect, but I can be honest about not being perfect. I’m going to make mistakes, absolutely, but I can take responsibility for them and try never to make them again.
That way, my plates will match the person driving. What shows up on the outside won’t identify me as something I’m not.