When we’re secure with who we are, we tend to exude humility. Identity is the key to humility. Knowing who you are, and being satisfied with who you are equals humility. Who am I? What am I worth? The Gospel answers these questions head on.
You’re a piece of art. You’re one-of-a-kind. You were created and given life as an expression of love and the very creative genius of God. But… like ALL of creation, you and I were born into a corrupt system, a world undone by the curse and consequences of sin. We’re born INTO it, we’re affected BY it, and we inevitably contribute TO it. No matter how hard we may try to deny it, we all experience it and are plagued by the shame and the brokenness that are the result of it (i.e., our sin).
This phenomenon leaves us wedged between a Rock and a hard place. We look at the world, we look at ourselves, and we feel,’We can do better! We should do better! We were MADE to do better! I’m meant for greater things!’ And no sooner than the feeling becomes a thought, sin is there to spoil the plot. Greatness?! Ha! Great?! You’re not even GOOD! You’re disgusting! You’re worth NOTHING! Lie to yourself all you want. You know that if anyone could see the real you, the sick, self-centred, prideful, insecure, perverted cesspool that you call a soul, you, no one, including God, could ever love you! And thus begins the great cover up.
My little boy, Isaac, loves to hide under the blanket. I think he thinks he’s actually invisible under our blanket. When it comes to sin, we’re the same way. Some of us attempt to burry ourselves under the blanket of denial. Sin’s not real. God’s not real. Shame’s not real! I’m a good person! I’M A GOOD PERSON! I’M A GOOD PERSON!!! Some of us on the other hand struggle to enjoy such blissful delusion. So we set about simply fixing ourselves. This is a perfectly human thing to do. This is why man invented religion. The idea’s as simple as sucking air. We all feel like we could/should be doing just a little “better,” like we’re all just slightly inadequate. And if anyone’s going to love us, including God, it’s because we’ve worked pretty damn for it. We do this in every way imaginable. And we call it: morality, self-actuality, spirituality… or for the more traditioal, Islam, Buddhism, Judaism, Christianity, religion, etc. It’s as natural as earning a merit badge – the more you get, the better you are; and surely everyone, including God, loves the boy or girl with the most badges (or at least some badges!) In other words, do good, be better, win friends, and feel secure about who you are. The “fix” is ancient and universal. Young or old, we all do this. It’s perfectly natural, but tragically flawed.
It seems reasonable, but it’s not. It’s about as reasonable as spending £1000 to paint an old rusted out car. You know the thing’s still junk on the inside. All you’ve done is just add a layer to it. Of course it does help for a while. It’s an improvement. It’s better than nothing. People do seem to like you a bit more. But you know it was just a surface job. No one else may know it, but you do. Then one night, late at night, you’re lying in bed awake, and you begin to feel it again… you’re not good enough. People are no longer impressed. The rust is starting to show. Shame! Inadequacy! Quick, slap another layer on! And round and round we go! Caught in an epic fail-cycle, spinning so fast you feel like you might explode. Ultimately, this emotional twister will land you in one of two places: either you master the religion of do-better-ianity and revel in your moral accolades like a self-righteous prat, or… you suck at it, so instead you just learn to live in a perpetual state of adding more layers to a shell that’s ultimately destined to crack.
Is there any hope for all the crackpots out there (like me)? What if there was a Way, instead of merely slapping another layer on the old rust bucket, we could get a new engine instead? Sure, the exterior may not be much to look at, but on the inside… that soul’s destined to win races!
So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. – 2 Cor. 4:16-18








rone-driven brutes who, if they had any sense of decency, should really be more like me. (although deep down I still dreamt of kicking ass someday – if it were ever necessary)