Why do people feel like they must hide everything? Someone is always going to be offended. There really isn't anyway to win. Someone will always disagree with something.
I struggle with that sometimes because I feel like I have to make a choice between the way I was raised and what I actually believe to be true.
I grew up with a father who felt like he had to hide his vices in order to perpetuate an image of himself and of our family. And we all bought into it -- even he believed it for a while. But the hiding eventually drove him crazy -- his vices eventually became his disease (again).
***
I had the privilege of growing up in an amazing Christian home, and it came at me from all familial directions. My mom had grown up the daughter of a Pastor and knew from very early on that she, like her mother, would one day be a pastor's wife. She felt like this was her life's calling. And she had the best family in the world from whom to learn the ropes. My grandpa is a brilliant man; he is intelligent, compassionate, loving, and a great leader. He was made for this role of church leadership. So much so, in fact, that even now, when he's retired, he can't seem to completely remove himself from this life. I am so blessed to have him in my life and to have had the chance to have him give me away at my wedding. I love just calling and talking with him on the phone. Sometimes I feel smarter just from talking to him.
When my parents married my mom wasn't sure what to think because she had believed in her heart for so long that God had prepared her for marriage to a Pastor. Now here she was starting her life with a retail sales manager. When my parents met, my dad was fully "living in the world" as they say. He had been smoking since he was in middle school, smoking pot for almost as long, and had been into doing the hard stuff for a while. He already had one marriage and divorce under his belt. And as previously mentioned, was working as a manager at the local Safeway as he had barely made it to his high school graduation.
My mom was raised in a home where you don't drink, you don't smoke, you don't see rated R movies -- I think the first time my grandpa really let loose and danced like no one was watching was at my wedding, in January -- and my dad tells the story that when he began to date my mom seriously, he once went home with a pack of cigarettes, a six pack of beer, and a bible and began to read. My grandpa told him that they'd always imagined my mom marrying a Christian man and he wondered if Dad had ever considered making that decision. And so he did. And he gave it all up. He quit smoking, no longer drank at home (I learned later that he would sometimes order a drink with dinner over the years), etc. I know my parents still saw rated R movies and danced at weddings but many things were off limits.
Then my dad was called into ministry while taking a shower one day when I was two. And so we packed up and my parents both joined the staff of my grandpa's church (he was in British Columbia Canada at this point).
Fast-forward 10 years: we're in Las Vegas, Dad is now the senior pastor for the second time at a church plant that my grandpa started with the plan to turn it over to my dad in his retirement. We had french doors on our office and when Chad and I were home from school or on break, Dad would hang up a sheet behind the glass so that he could "work". And why did he need to shield our eyes from his work, you ask?
Porn.
It was one of those things that we didn't know but we kind of did, only to have it confirmed later in life.
Needless to say, that church crumbled. Dad became a lay person and was free to live the Sunday Christian life once again.
***
I tell this story, as much as I hate to talk about my dad, because it tells so much about what I was raised to think and to believe. So many of us, who grow up within that church environment, are raised to think this way. It's the Church of Don'ts. If we aren't allowed to sin, then we can't sin. And if we can't sin, we can't cause other people to sin. And if there isn't sin within the church, we don't have to talk about it. If there aren't sinners in the church, then it's us and it's them. And we're never the same. We're never equal. I've been a "we". Sometimes I still am a "we".
No wonder the world thinks we're either no fun or a bunch of hypocrites.
I wasn't taught, until I was 15, that it was ok to even have a drink in moderation. In fact, I didn't even know my parents drank until I was 15. We were getting ready to leave on a Caribbean vacation (still the favorite vacation I've ever taken) and my mom had a talk with Chad and I. "We might order some drinks on this trip. I just want to make sure you're ok with that. We sometimes order drinks at restaurants. It's ok to sometimes drink in moderation." ... blank stares and nods.
I sometimes wonder why that is the soonest that we learned the truth. I was about to be a junior in high school. Chad, a freshman. 15 years of not knowing my parents drink is far longer than the time I've lived knowing that they do.
In fact, I remember being about 11 or 12 and hearing my dad's best friend's son mention how his dad had liked to sit by the pool and drink beer while they were on their vacation to the Grand Canyon. I was shocked. This was a man I'd grown up going to church with. We went on vacations with this family. How could someone who was so Christian drink beer?!?
Aaron and I have talked that while we're usually social drinkers, we don't want to hide that from our kids. We want them to see that Daddy drinks a beer while he's cooking burgers on the grill or that when someone comes over for dinner we serve wine. We want them to know from early on that if you make wise decisions, it is ok to drink in moderation. We want them to know that while we are terrible dancers (see first dance at our wedding), dancing is actually fun. We want them to know that when they're old enough to see rated R movies, that there is nothing wrong with it. We want them to grow up knowing the truths of the Bible and when they have those words stored in their hearts, they will be able to make informed decisions about right and wrong.
Why do we hide?
So often, within the church, the big issue is drinking. But there are so many other things that we hide.
I remember being told the story that one day my grandpa decided to play the lottery. And he won. The way my mom tells the story, the family instantly thought "steak dinner!" But my grandpa was so torn up by the guilt that he had played the lottery that on the next Sunday morning he confessed his sin before the whole church and put all of his winnings in the offering plate.
At the church in Las Vegas, the biggest giver to the church was a gambling addict. He spent his days downtown at one of the casinos sitting at one of the slots. The man made money. And he always gave 10% to the church. He was there every Sunday. He hosted small groups in his home. One of the faithful. But he did have a serious problem with gambling. But because he tithed on his winnings, that was somehow ok. We took his money and we let it slide. The poor man died a very slow and painful death of emphysema. The first question many people asked after his death: Well, how much money did he leave the church?
So in other words, the pastor must hide it or feel guilty enough to confess? But a church member can get by?
***
When I was in elementary school I remember getting in trouble a lot for airing our family's dirty laundry in front of members of our church. I don't even remember the kind of things I said -- except the time I asked our very overweight church treasurer and his wife why they took so much food at the Chinese Buffet... but that wasn't about my family -- but apparently they were things my parents wanted kept under the rug. The only reason I ever got in trouble was because we were supposed to be keeping up the image.
I remember telling my mom once that I was tired of having to keep up the image of being such a perfect person. Her response was to ask why I would want to be a bad person? That wasn't really what I had meant, but it says a lot. I didn't want to be a bad person. I was just tired of the image. I was tired of not listening to the "cool" radio stations because my parents listened to Christian radio in the car. I was tired of having to lie in front of people from the church so that I didn't say anything that was meant to be kept private. I was tired of having to be the person who told kids at school that I didn't swear because I wasn't allowed to.
Aaron has been talking lately about the difference in the condition of your heart between saying "You Shit-head!" to your brother because he did something dumb and saying "Shit!" when you stub your toe and it hurts. In the first case, your heart is not in a good place if you feel the need to talk to your brother that way. In the second case... your toe just really hurts.
My mom always told us we weren't allowed to use bad language because of Matthew 12:34. So it bothers me so much now when I hear her say "Oh My God!" and other things that were always forbidden. I went through a period of cussing because I could. I'm over it. Those words are ugly.
***
I write this post today as a way to iron out the inner battles I have over this. It's so easy to say no to everything. It's convenient even.
"I grew up hearing about God, hearing that He had created the universe, some animals, the Grand Canyon, that we weren't supposed to have sex or drink whiskey or go to dance clubs, that sort of thing, you know. He's making a list, He's checking it twice, He's gonna find out who's naughty and nice..." Searching For God Knows What, Donald Miller, 31
I read this yesterday and found it interesting for the simple fact that the God of America was compared to Santa Claus -- a recognized made up figure who can do and be anything we want him to do or be. While I don't take Donald Miller as a great Theologian (he really just kind of writes his thoughts on paper) this point is kind of interesting. It seems like it's the church that gives us all of our "don'ts". After all, Jesus turned water into wine (actual wine... not grape juice) so who would he be to condemn us for having a glass? So if you're going to WWJD it... what right would you (or I) have?
1 comment:
Well I look really good now!
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