Faces

We all put on different faces in order to fit in. You've got your daughter face, your student face, your friend face, your work face. Maybe your Christian face. I've been thinking about this a lot lately. And I've come to the conclusion that having so many faces can be confusing. And we can get lost. Because if we only show certain faces to certain people, then we never let anyone in on the whole story. We never fully turn to face anyone. All these stifled personalities. Half truths. Sins we're trying to hide.

 

A few weeks ago, my small group studied John 4: 1-42. This tells the story of a Samaritan woman’s encounter with Christ at a well. These verses show us a Savior who knows everything about the woman - even those things that bring her guilt and shame. And what does Jesus do? He draws near to her anyway. And with great joy and urgency, the woman proclaims to those in her community that Christ knows everything she ever did. 

 

Now wait a minute. Her past life was brimming with sin! She had been married several times, and the man she was living with was not her husband. In her day, bouncing around in that many romantic relationships meant nothing but trouble. Her identity was completely wrapped up in the men she dated and slept with. Why would you declare that to your community? How could this deep knowledge that Christ has of her ever be good news? 

 

 

The intimate knowledge that Christ has of her life is good news, because it is accompanied by a call to relationship. Look again. He draws near to her. Christ identifies Himself as the Messiah – the One who will put things right between us and God. The Samaritan woman can be joyful about being completely known by Christ, because it means she is also completely loved. Imagine what that could be like. Completely known, and completely loved. That is the heart of the Gospel. So don't be afraid - quit hiding your face.

Listen

I was talking with a friend the other night. It was one of those deep, rambling, let’s-catch-up-and-talk-about-life kinds conversations. The good kind. We ended up talking about sharing, and how it’s hard when our friends aren’t forthcoming, when they’re not the type to elucidate. How it’s awkward and frustrating to be that person who pulls details from their mouths and little grains of truth from their hearts. “Well,” I said, “everyone needs to be listened to.”

The conversation stopped. “You’re right,” he said. “That’s a good thought.”

*****

There is a newspaper in Nashville called the Contributor. It’s a street paper, much like Streetwise in Chicago – its vendors are homeless or formerly homeless, and buy copies of the paper on their own dime to sell for a profit.

One of my roommates was talking with the man who sells the Contributor at the grocery store on our street. She returned home with a free copy of the paper.

“Wait, why did he just give you one?” I asked.

“Well, I had stopped to talk to him and…”

She continued her story, but my mind paused, fixated. I had stopped to talk to him. She stopped to pay attention. To listen. The man had next to nothing, and yet he gave generously when he was treated with dignity. He was willing to give away one of his precious papers, just for the chance to be heard.

*****

My campus minister recently challenged the ministry team at RUF Vanderbilt to get together with a friend and listen to their thoughts on God. These leaders were not to argue with their friend, and they were not to enter the conversation with an agenda. They were simply to listen. What do they think about Christianity, forgiveness, truth? Do they struggle with matters of faith?

There is something fundamental about being heard. Who in your life needs to be listened to? Does anyone if your life listen to you?