Monday, August 5, 2019

Honesty will set you free, but it will hurt you first

There is far more to the faith-life than knowing our Bibles, praying lots, turning up to church every Sunday, and serving in your ministry area. So much more!
Indeed, it could be argued very convincingly that none of our works in the faith implicitly show much faith at all. So, what does show faith?
Nothing truly of what we do,
but truly how and why we do it.
How we do what we do. What we do when nobody’s looking. Being accountable when there’s little accountability. Truly being accountable to the One that sees all, but who we so easily deny. Doing what we often don’t willingly want to do but doing what is right and just and fair—doing the wise thing.
The thing is this: honesty is absolutely indispensable as THE currency for life.
It’s the only thing that protects us and others from our own stupidity. But it demands humility. Honesty hasn’t a chance if we’re not humble; if we don’t see and can’t admit that we’re the ones who are other-than and anything-but perfect, who are tempted so often, who falter and fall, and who have the capacity to hurt and even destroy others through actions, no less, of betrayal, which is relational treachery.
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Now, honesty will set us free. Pick how I turned the truism of Jesus (“the truth will set you free”) and changed it to make it easier to see what I think Jesus is actually saying. This is why I love the Twelve Step program; it’s all about honesty, as any program of recovery is. We cannot recover from anything without being brutally honest with ourselves.
But… there’s a ‘but’.
It’s going to hurt. Every time we’re honest we will lose.
But we lose what we cannot keep,
to gain what we cannot lose.
(Jim Eliot)
We lose what cannot and could not ever truly be ours—the lie or stolen thing we covet—to gain what spiritual possession cannot be taken from us. In being honest, we will hurt. It will hurt. Every single time it’s a turning from the thing the world, our ego, and the devil says we must have. But in having this thing that wickedness wants we toy with self-destruction and we compromise others.
Let’s get personal for a minute. Think of lust. Whenever we enjoy a lingering leering look, we must be honest and repent of it. We stop it. Think of greed. Whenever we take something that’s not genuinely purposed for us, we must arrive at awareness of the fact. We repent of it and stop it. Think of anger. Whenever we sense we demand something our way, we ought to imagine how the other person feels. We see how badly we’re treating the person and we repent. We reverse our behaviour.
The tricky thing about all this is it’s all habit. Honesty is a habit, just as dishonesty is. They’re both about awareness and choice; awareness of admitting truth and the awareness of denying truth.
Admit the truth and we don’t easily go that way, for our morality won’t allow it. But a seared conscience will deny reality, dissociate from self, and continue doing the wrong thing without a second thought. How despicable that people in roles of power might operate like this, but it’s dangerous for any of us and its destructive to others when we virulently go our own way.
The only protection we have in endeavouring to live the faithful life is honesty.
The only way we can and should ever lead others is through a steadfast commitment to being honest, no matter how much it hurts. Such a leadership is unswervingly trustworthy and safe, and all leadership, indeed all relationships, should bear this feature of faithfulness inherently.
But like all things, leading and relating in these ways will never be easy and at times it will genuinely hurt. But here’s another ‘but’—it’s only when we pay this price that we prove to be faithful.
Here’s one final thought: you promised to be faithful, but you never do realise what it will cost until it dawns on you, “Ouch, that hurts.” It costs most when it seems to matter least; but of course, that’s the thing with truth; it always matters.
Truth matters to this degree. It often won’t win you an iota of the world’s favour, but it will please God, and when all is said and done, it’s all that matters.
Dedicated to Psalm 15.

Photo by Andrew Butler on Unsplash

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