The Hard Work of Honesty

Nancy Vasquez

My mom died suddenly a month ago. She was my best friend and confidante, one of the only people on the planet who would be completely honest with me when she saw me wandering down the wrong path. She would not hesitate to tell me that she thought I was making a bad decision or thinking wrongly. The reality is that she was not always right. Sometimes what she saw as danger zones were actually good things that she did not completely understand. 

But now that Mom is gone, I can see clearly that all of her advice, right or wrong, was coming from a place of truth in love. Even when she knew I was going to be as angry as a wet cat and just as confrontational, she still spoke up, not to drive me crazy, but to try to protect me. 

I get very angry when people are not honest with me, whether it is by telling so-called “half truths” or just flat out lying to me. But as usual, as I examine myself, I’m no different than they are. 

In Sunday’s sermon, Pastor Nate posed the question, Do you tell people just what they want to hear so they don’t dislike or reject you? My answer to that is, absolutely!

Paul’s struggle in Galatians was based on being rejected because he spoke truth that the church did not want to hear. Honesty is hard work. It means following the Spirit, knowing what to say to whom, and going through the sometimes agonizing process of dealing with the anger and rejection of those closest to you. 

It is so much simpler to lie, to say something is ok when it’s not, to smile and nod, to avoid confrontation so you don’t “rock the boat” of a relationship. In this case, one doesn’t have to prayerfully discern anything or say anything potentially confrontational. It’s the easy way out. 

The “easy way out” is a form of idolatry. It’s putting one’s own personal comfort and approval ahead of what God calls us to in relationship with others. Dealing honestly is one of the “elementary principles” we should have mastered as followers of Christ and too often don’t master at all. I personally would rather sit and stew on an issue than deal with it head on because it requires no risk or effort on my part to just simmer and brood. 

I take this easy way out all the time. I often don’t confront friends and family who need to be confronted. When I do finally deal with an issue, it’s usually out of a place of anger with the accompanying profanity and meanness that go along with utter frustration. It is anything but speaking the truth in love. If I followed God’s plan for honesty in the first place, I wouldn’t get to a spot where I speak ugly things that are not glorifying to Him. 

The easy route ends up being the wrong route, every single time. 

God wants us to do the hard work of honesty not because he wants to see us squirm.  He wants us to do all things well, to become more and more like Him.  He knows that our relationships and minds would be much healthier with significant doses of honesty. He also knows that we will need His mercy and grace over and over and over again to even begin to practice this. The good news is that He will provide this mercy and grace as we start and stumble and succeed on the journey.

A journey means getting started. This is a tough call to action for me, but I see that we will all have healthier communities and more God-centered hearts if we intentionally practice honesty.

How to Deal with Sexual Failure

Dominick Baruffi

The year was 1984. Pastor John Piper had just returned home from a missions conference in Washington, D.C., and he had returned burdened. He had spent time listening to a missionary named George Verwer, who preached on the tragic number of young people who were leaving the missions field. Primarily, Verwer observed, these people were giving up their radical dream because of a gnawing sense of unworthiness: they had failed sexually. Their constant battle with sin was too great for them to continue down the radical path they had once set out on. Verwer preached passionately on this, and it stirred the heart of Piper. In response to his experience at the conference, Piper wrote a short essay for his church newsletter entitled, “Missions and Masturbation.” According to Piper, the following week was the closest he ever came to being fired from his post. You can probably understand why.

* * * * *

“The great tragedy is not masturbation or fornication or pornography. The tragedy is that Satan uses guilt from these failures to strip you of every radical dream you ever had or might have. In their place, he gives you a happy, safe, secure, American life of superficial pleasures, until you die in your lakeside rocking chair.”

~John Piper

It is important before I write very much more, that I make mention of something I would much rather omit: that I am a sexual failure. This is not mere church speak; it is the bare truth of my existence. I have not honored God with my body; I am, as the hymn states, prone to wander, a deviant from the plans and institutes of God, sometimes on a daily basis. I have allowed lust to rule my heart instead of love for Christ and his people, and that battle continues even upon this writing. I say this in hopes of removing any misconceptions you may have of me, the writer, upon deciding to read a post as audaciously titled as this one. You will not find haughtiness or expertise here; I have none to offer. What you will find is more like a report sent from a soldier battling on the front lines of war. I have been to the battlegrounds more times than I care to admit, and I have learned that there are no shortcuts to victory. In the words of C.S. Lewis, the longest way round is the shortest way home.

* * * * *

There is a tendency amongst people who have failed sexually to reinterpret their lives based on their sin. The egregious nature of our sin brings with it the almost crippling weight of guilt that, in many ways, serves us a great deal. Guilt is to the soul what pain is to the body: without it, we wouldn’t know we were ill. But often, we interpret that guilt as a sign that God wants no part of us. How could he ever want me? 

What we forget in these moments is that which matters most: we forget the glorious Gospel of Jesus.

Christ has died,

Christ is risen,

Christ will come again.

The problem with making our sin greater than the glory of the Gospel is that it isn’t. Our sin has separated us from God, but Jesus Christ has defeated sin! When we allow the guilt to take us out of the game, we give power back to the enemy to tell us who we are. We exchange the truth about God for a lie that pushes us further and further away from the truth. We become like those young missionaries that George Verwer preached about, paying more attention to our sin and forgetting the message we preach. Because what would God want with a mess like me?

* * * * *

If you are someone who has experienced sexual failure, hear this: Jesus is not surprised by your failures. He knew of them long before you did. This is not cause for despair, but celebration, for even while you were still in your sins, Christ died for you. You had no part in it; just Him, choosing to stay on that cross, taking your place among the damned. All that is required of you is that you choose to see yourself as He sees you: not as shamed, but as Son. Guilt is a good thing, but do not let the enemy use it against you. Now is the time for repentance. The Father is waiting for you to come to Him. 

Oh, the devil’s singing over me an age-old song

That I am cursed and gone astray

Singing the first verse so conveniently over me

He’s forgotten the refrain:

Jesus saves!

~Shane & Shane, “Embracing Accusation”

Dream Bigger

Jessica Noblett

I listened to this week’s sermon as I drove down the northeast extension of the Pennsylvania Turnpike, heading home from visiting my family in New York. It was serendipitous as God’s timing always is because a perfect metaphor of “what are you hoping for?” was unfolding before me.

The answer was easy enough- I was hoping and dreaming of getting home. The final destination included my wonderful husband, a hot shower, a nice soft bed (after a weekend of sharing a cot with a cousin) and central air conditioning. But while driving alone for six hours I noticed that I am easily distracted and particularly enticed by service plazas. Fast food! Coffee! Souvenir key chains! Trail mix! Fireworks! The cheapest fireworks in the state! More coffee!! I exchanged the “big dream” of getting home for the smaller, more tangible dream of a hot cappuccino from Starbucks more than once. 

It hit home. I settle for less and take my eyes off the prize all the time. In Nate’s words, “I exchange a worthy dream for a small dream.”

However, the big reveal for me happened in the sermon when Nate said that the life of a follower of Jesus includes holding on to “bigger vision without momentary satisfaction.” I know that’s probably difficult for any of us to fully grasp – its definitely counter-culture – but it could not be more extremely contrary to the life and breath of my generation. 

We can’t send a text message without wondering a minute later why we haven’t received a response. We have the TV show, movie or YouTube clip of our choice available on the screen of our choice at any given time. We’re used to receiving trophies for participating and medals just because we showed up. We need our tweets “favorited” and our Instagrams “liked” and if we’re honest, our existence completely revolves around affirmation and pats on the back. “You’re doing great!” “Keep going!” “I love it!” “You’re so smart!” We’re absolutely lost without them. Or at least I am. Six hours of driving without texting or Instagram? I picked up my phone every 15 minutes purely out of habit.

It’s clear to me why holding onto a bigger hope comes down to a question of faith, because the bottom line is if God isn’t giving me an “atta boy” I don’t think He’s paying attention and I begin to doubt what I’m doing makes any difference at all. 

But if holding on to faith is believing my efforts are not in vain and still matter in God’s kingdom instead of giving my attention to something small - I see how that’s a life worth living. 

In the brilliant words of C.S. Lewis, “we are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

I want to be finished with mud pies. Instead, I want to hold onto the assurances God has already given to us, like in 1 Corinthians 15 and hope for something so much more, so much bigger, than just what I see around me. I want to grow in faith so that I’m able to remember what’s true about God’s character and how He leads and loves his children instead of being distracted by so many worthless objects along the way.