Pastor Imposter?

There's a person in our town known by some as Pastor Imposter. Before ever meeting him, we were warned about him. Duly warned, we did nothing to seek him out. One day, many months into us living here, Pastor Imposter walked over to where we were sitting in our yard and introduced himself.

His friendliness felt affected, his curiosity about our job situation thinly veiled. He was quick to mention his pastoral credentials, and offer assistance with our immigration status. He gossiped about our new neighbors and seemed to be trying to ingratiate himself to us, or at least make a good impression. Maybe our friends' words of caution set us up to be skeptical, but regardless, we left the encounter feeling wary.

I recently started reading a memoir called, "The Prison Angel," about an American nun who has lived and served in a Mexican prison for the past 30 years. I've also been watching a Netflix series on lawyers who work to exonerate innocent people on death row. Being in a season of little productivity and even less reputation, my mind started wondering what it would be like to work for such a worthy cause- the plight of society's most unloved and rejected people.

More than just feeding my innate sense of justice, these daydreams also revealed my ego. Doing that level of social justice work would put me in a position of being admired for all the selfless work I'd be doing. Win-win!

My depravity became even more clear when I learned Eddie's friend is undergoing dialysis and needs a kidney transplant. I immediately thought, I should see if I can donate- I wouldn't mind and it would be such a blessing for the family. That thought was quickly followed by an almost imperceptible pride at being such an awesome, selfless person. Eww, gross.

Where was this need for acknowledgement coming from? Why was I suddenly seeing ways to serve as ways to elevate myself instead of elevating others? I reminded myself of Pastor Imposter himself.

Micah 6:8 says, "He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God."

There's no point in doing steps 1 & 2 without humility. If I am doing to the right things with the wrong motivation, I am an imposter. If I am sacrificing of myself so others can be impressed by my saintliness, I am not serving God, I am serving my ego.

Thank you, God, for showing me the ways I continue to seek validation from others. Thank you for showing me how cheaply I will sell my integrity, if given the chance. Forgive me for judging Pastor Imposter when I have the same pride and insecurity in me. Show me ways to to make a difference with my life and help me to reject the pride that tries to make it all about me. Amen.

First, do no harm

This famous Hippocratic phrase has been buzzing around my mind for a few days. Do no harm.

Moving to an economically depressed country, with the intention of doing development work "in the name of Jesus" makes me nervous. Over centuries so many horrors have taken place "in the name of Jesus," I am loath to contribute to the list.

I'm reading a book that has been recommended to me several times over recent years, entitled, "When Helping Hurts." It talks about how well-intentioned people (namely Christians) have gone into communities aiming to help, but instead have hurt not only the members of the community, but themselves in the process. Having studied Anthropology and lived and worked in low-income contexts, I am very familiar with the phenomenon and I'm excited to learn how to avoid common pitfalls.

The other area where "First, do no harm" is ringing true is in my work with the young adults of our church. People are familiar with the shocking ways Christians have harmed each other; priests abusing altar boys, supposed faith healers conning sick congregants, parents disowning their children...but there are myriad ways to hurt people that will never make the headlines.

Do we gossip? Lie and manipulate? Judge? Criticize people or humiliate them? Do we make people feel lesser-than when they're with us? In these ways, and a million others, we are taking out our youth with friendly fire. As I prepare to speak with my small group of young ladies, I must commit to "First, do no harm."

I'm pretty aware of my actions and attitudes when I'm in "work/ministry" mode. It's part of my process to take stock of myself, how I show up in a space and the effect my contribution may have in a situation. This is not always true when I'm at home.

Am I grumpy? Annoyed? Inconvenienced or disappointed? First, do no harm.

Ephesians 4:26 says, “In your anger do not sin: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry."

The last few days of distance learning with our oldest child has brought up rage in me. I'm not exaggerating. Feelings of confusion, annoyance, frustration, and impatience have culminated in a ball of anger in my gut. I want to throw things and curse out loud. But I know that lashing out won't change anything. In my anger, which is justified, I must not sin.

So, whether I'm planning development projects in a depressed community, leading a small group Bible study or helping my kid with grammar, I am called always to do no harm. And if I blow it, if I lose my cool, I must repent, take responsibility and ask God to help me do better next time.

I'm gonna let it shine!

Life has a way of depositing darkness in our hearts. From birth and through our years of young innocence, too many of us experience the ugliness of humanity. Betrayal, deception, abuse, neglect can make indelible stains on our hearts and psyches. While we try to project sunshine and happiness, we are all too aware of the shadows we harbor under the surface.

In addition to the pain we've experienced from the hands of others, we each dole-out our own share of darkness. Everyone of us has the capacity, even the tendency, to miss the mark. We puff ourselves up while gossiping about others. We judge the elite or the impoverished, thinking we are above it all. We lie or manipulate when we're afraid of losing control.

Most troubling of all is that those hurts and sin become accepted as part of our identity, rather than a cancer to be expelled. Thoughts and feelings of being dirty, unlovable, worthless and lesser-than can cause the dark spots to expand and absorb more internal territory. So, too can pride, superiority, and greed. Before you know it, you are in what the Bible describes as spiritual bondage.

Accepting the darkness as who you are can easily affect the trajectory of your life. Thinking you have no value might cause you to seek validation from others. It might drive you to become financially successful in order to prove your worth. It may drive you into the arms of someone who has only cheap emotions to offer. Like a younger me, you may become class clown and everybody's best friend to hide your insecurities.

John 8:12 When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

Most of us, whether we come from a church background or not, have heard the song, "This little light of mine." The light in that childhood favorite is talking about Jesus, the light of the world. The light represents what Jesus embodies: peace, love, forgiveness, generosity, freedom from darkness etc.

So, if we have Jesus in our lives, but we also harbor darkness, how do we "let it shine, let it shine, let it shine?" The answer is to let the light into those areas of darkness.

As humans we have a tendency to lock ugliness away; hide it from view. We hope that by stuffing it down and covering it up, it will go away, or at least leave us alone. But darkness has no interest in behaving well, its goal is to spread and take whatever territory it can.

Jesus said His purpose is that His followers will never walk in darkness. We are meant for the light. We are meant to live in victory, with our heads held high, no longer succumbing to the burdens that have been placed upon us.

One method of "letting in the light" is to revisit painful memories and ask God to heal and restore what was stolen from you. Another method may be to admit how angry and resentful you are of someone who slighted you in the past, asking God to help you to forgive and move past it. It may be identifying the lies you've believed about yourself and replacing them with scriptures affirming your worth and uniqueness. For some who have lived mired in darkness for years, you may need the help of a professional counselor to do this deep work.

The beauty of letting our light shine is that each of us will embody the light in a unique way. The light of the world, shining through broken vessels such as ourselves, will draw others to its warmth. That's what makes the hard work of removing the darkness worth it: feeling internal peace and freedom, and watching how others are freed through knowing you and He who has freed you.