Who Unlocked the Confessional?

In completion of a self-reflection instrument I requested of our church board members last month, today in two ways I had to identify significant changes I could fully support and work for. The first assignment was to flag changes to our congregation’s administration, organization, or ministry. I filled out that section quickly, or at least with lots of passion. I know lots of things we need to change.

The second assignment was not so simple. It asked me to flag changes in my personal attitude toward and involvement in our congregation’s administration, organization, or ministry. This one I didn’t so promptly conquer. More than once I had to sit back in my chair, stroke my few and dwindling hairs, and ask whether whatever was under consideration at the time was, a) among the most pressing changes I need to make; and, b) a change to which I am authentically willing to commit my life. I didn’t have the same passion for this second assignment.

It’s much easier – not to mention, more fun – to tell others how they need to change. Whether it’s a need for better nutrition or a different political persuasion, lifestyle changes or improvements to financial management, telling others what they need to do is much more the pleasing experience than personal scrutiny.

Maybe it’s that I don’t want others to know my weaknesses.

Maybe it’s that I don’t want the obligation of following through on commitments of transformation.

Maybe it’s that I can’t handle the prospect of chinks in my personal armor.

Maybe it’s just that I like doing things the easy way, and it’s easier to pick others apart.

Or maybe I’m the real audience for Jack Nicholson’s Colonel Jessep in “A Few Good Men,” who angrily denounced people who could not handle the truth.

It doesn’t matter. Jesus is not going to change his teaching just because I struggle when looking in the mirror. That thing he said about extracting the log from your own eye before bitching about the splinter in another’s eye still stands, my sorry tale notwithstanding.

It’s not that I was wrong to ask us to name changes “we” need to make; I just should have asked for the personal changes first. Like now....

Do you need to change? No. That’s the wrong question; you know it as well as I.

How do you need to change?

Don’t tell me how I need to change, or how I could have addressed this subject with greater insight, sensitivity, or understanding. Tell me how you need to change. Better yet, convince yourself that you need to change. Convince yourself – if you convince me, you’ll be a good salesperson; big deal – that there are ways you can live more like Jesus, in closer company with him, in more productive liaison with him. Convince yourself that if you change in areas X, Y, and Z the world will be a better place, you will live in healthier relationships, and that elusive utopia Jesus promised called “the Kingdom” will edge a wee bit closer.

Of course, such ambitious consequences are not possible without the first step, confession. So, take on our board’s assignment: In writing, identify up to three changes in your personal life that you commit to make in order to follow Jesus more faithfully, more completely. When done, if you’re really serious, ask a confidant to hold a copy of your commitments, and to hold you accountable by asking you for a progress update every couple of months....But that’s only if you’re really serious.

It’s kind of funny that I struggled so with that board reflection exercise given that I’m the one who drew it up. I guess I would have seen its challenge more clearly had it not been for that damned log in my eye.


Pray with Me:
I think everyone I know needs to change, God. Unfortunately, that doesn’t matter much until I decide the fate of my own failings. As I continue a journey to the cross, help me label, separate, and act upon the results of intentional self examination. I don’t expect the process to be easy or enjoyable – that is never your promise. I do expect to grow closer to Jesus – and that’s always enough. In his name I pray, Amen.