Masks: I’ve had a number of friends and brethren contact me recently, and I truly enjoy hearing from anyone who loves Christ, regardless of what theological team they may be cheering for. The older I get, the less impressed I become with the banners under which men gather and the more aware I become of what we all have in common. Luke 23:40.
Whatever our differences may be, we are all dust, sustained by the same God, facing the same mortality, and standing in need of the same mercy. Over the years, I’ve seen the good, the bad, and the ugly come and go. Yet one common thread seems to run through nearly every life, including my own: our tendency to wear masks. We want to appear stronger than we are, wiser than we are, and more in control than we are. We spend so much effort managing appearances, hoping others will see what we wish we were rather than what we actually are. It is ironic. Like actors on a stage, we carefully rehearse our lines and polish our image, hoping others will believe the performance, while the God who made us sees beyond every disguise.
Yeah, we may not wear physical masks, but Scripture is full of people hiding behind disguises, veils, and outward appearances. And throughout it all stands the God ‘unto whom all hearts be open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid.” If that is true, why all the pretending? Why the masks, the performances, and the endless effort to appear better than we are? There comes a point where a man grows tired of defending himself and simply seeks mercy instead. Perhaps one of the greatest blessings God can give us is not a higher opinion of himself, but an honest one. ‘And Abraham answered and said, behold now, I have taken upon me to speak unto the Lord, which am but dust and ashes.’ Genesis 18:27. For it is often those who know their need most deeply who value mercy most dearly. MPJ
PostScript: I think that as we grow older, many of us become less impressed with polished reputations and more aware of human weakness. We begin to see that every saint has scars, every family has struggles, and that beneath the masks people wear are wounds, fears, failures, and longings they rarely speak about. In time, we come to realize that human beings are far more fragile, far more complicated, and dependent upon mercy than we once imagined. David committed terrible sins. Peter denied the Lord. Noah became drunk. Lot’s life ended in tragedy. Yet Scripture does not hide their failures. It tells the truth about them while also bearing witness to the mercy of God. That does not mean sin becomes unimportant. It means we learn to distinguish between acknowledging failure and discarding a person. Once the masks come off, we begin to see that people cannot always be neatly categorized. The same person who brought encouragement to one life may have brought disappointment to another. Such things are often true at the same time. MPJ