Going dark

Going dark is one of those terms that I know is real, because it's in a lot of spy shows. And I like spy shows, so I'm an expert. Going dark is when a spy has to go so deep undercover that they cut off communication with their handler and their peers.

Yesterday, I went dark.

Not that I'm a spy, I'm an "alien and stranger", a sojourner, and that's not quite the same thing. (If you're unfamiliar withe the phrase "alien and stranger" grab a Bible and look up 1 Peter 2.11) Or is it? I'm a subversive member of a King's following, a King who isn't my current world's ruler, trying to overthrow the system currently in place. Hmm...

But I digress. I went dark, not because I was going deeper in my cover, but because I was having a pity party.

Yep, me, Mr. Optimistic under most circumstances. Yesterday I spiraled out of control. My apparently fragile ego was not handling my unemployment situation well, so I went dark. Left God outside and tried to ignore him. Other people too. And like most of those situations, it only got worse from there. I turned to that one thing that if you'd read my blogs before, you know is my besetting sin (besetting is a theological word that means "butt-kicking").

I ate. Overate to be more precise.

I withdrew, shut out the world and the One who cares most, and I ate a bunch of stuff that I found.

And then I felt worse. Surprise!

I'm better today. Maybe. At least I'm confessional. And I'm talking to you, whoever you are. I'm not dark today. It's made me think of 2 or 3 things I probably need to focus on when I'm throwing a pity party.

1. Do some work. Wash the dishes. Do some laundry. Focus on a writing project. Work seems to help the soul regain some sense of purpose.

2. Get around people. People who refuse to be invited to your pity party, but who will be around you nonetheless.

3. Confess. You may not be one to confess on a blog, but confess. Your spouse, a friend, definitely God. Confess honestly, not in a Sunday-school fashion. But confess. Healing is there. His love doesn't go away.

He comes to give life. But that's my next blog.

I am a hypocrite, but...

Last week I tweeted about hating when you make a judgment about someone else's behavior then the Holy Spirit gently but firmly smacks you upside your head and says, "You do that too!" It's frustrating to be a hypocrite.

The truth is I can be a monster. I have anger issues, pride issues, and downright prejudice issues.

I am, after all, a recovering sinner.

Since then I've been wondering if online confession is as good for the soul as is confession in person. I come from a tradition that, quite frankly, does not openly value public confession. I have however as an adult come to see the value of communal confession. Both James and Peter speak of confession, not just in the context of a private relationship with God, but in communal fellowship with other believers. But that's still not necessarily the same as blogging your confession, or tweeting it, or sharing on some other social media outlet. (Hmm, a Facebook confession page, anyone?)

Even as I write these words, I'm not sure if it would be healthy or perverse to add a list of my sins, to confess the thoughts, words and deeds of my life that miss the mark of holiness. A part of me wants to do it, another part of me wants to resist the titillation that already stenches up the internet. And another part of me wants to just point to the grace that is offered to all of us in Jesus, the marvelous, matchless, infinite grace that is greater than all our sins, as the hymn put it.

So where do I land this plane?

It's very freudian to say that whatever sin I judge the most in others is likely the sin I struggle with the most. I see in someone what I hate about myself and pass judgment on it.

But Freud wasn't God.

I think every believer in our honest moments admits that we have met the enemy, and he is me. The line between good and evil does run through the middle of the human heart. My heart. Until redemption fully arrives, my flesh keeps crawling off the sacrificial altar to wreak havoc on me, to slap me. Or worse, to subtly retake a piece of my life where I don't see it coming. This makes it all the more challenging for God's clay-footed people to speak prophetically. I will fail to follow what I profess.

Should I stop professing it?

No. My shortcomings do not negate the truth. My failings do not validate evil.

My gluttony does not mean we can ignore the hungry.

My greed does not give us license to ignore the poor.

My silence does not allow us to ignore those who need to hear good news.

My laziness does not mean we can give up on changing the world.

My sin points only to my own need for a savior. My hypocrisy does not justify others' evil, but certainly demands my humility. And while I hope and strive and pray to overcome my own sin, it is "not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own." Every day I am "forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus." Php 3.12-14 ESV