A guy emailed me this week to ask my opinion on a well-known Christian leader.  Prophet or a heretic? It was a valid question.  A discussion I’ve seen floating around emails, blogs, and internet chat rooms for years.

But as I was preparing my (obviously brilliant and insightful) answer, I paused.  Were this guy’s assumptions formulated on first hand knowledge or was he simply regurgitating the thoughts and opinions of others?  Better yet, was the answer I was preparing to fire off with reckless abandon founded on my personal convictions or a conglomeration of things I had heard others say?

The reality?  I had no idea what I was talking about.

I had never read a book, listened to a message, even viewed a tweet post of the leader in question.  Yet I was about to wax eloquence on his character and calling. The validity of His message.  I was preparing to vomit a bunch of other people’s opinions that supported my preconceived notions and validated my worldview.  Even if I had been factually right, I think I would have been terribly wrong.

The Bible is very clear in its warning to test what we hear:

“My dear friends, don’t believe everything you hear. Carefully weigh and examine what people tell you. Not everyone who talks about God comes from God. There are a lot of lying preachers loose in the world.”
-1 John 4:1 (MSG)

But I wonder how many times I’ve abdicated that responsibility?

I’m not condoning a lone-ranger lifestyle.  We need the correction and accountability that comes from solid community. I’ve had the revelations of others open my mind to incredible insights I would have never seen on my own.  But many of us are too quick to blindly adapt to a position handed to us by someone else.  Usually someone who can talk faster, think quicker, or has a nice looking blog.

Have we lost the ability to wrestle for the truth? Or maybe just the desire?  Are we afraid?  Weak?  Just give me the answer (or better yet,  post it on Facebook.  That’s more efficient).

For some, faith itself is cheap.  Lazy.  A faded copy of an old picture someone else handed to you.

I don’t want to live that way.  To lead that way.  A collection of Twitter re-tweets and Facebook shares.  I want my own encounter with the Creator of the Universe.  I want to hear Him whisper my name.  To speak to the deep places of my heart.  To know His voice.  To live with His conviction.

But don’t take my word for it.  Let Him tell you Himself.

There are a lot of arrogant, isolated, self-reliant, “I’m never wrong” jerks in this world. (I contemplated stronger language, but I think you get the picture).  You’re probably visualizing a few right now.

But honestly, I think there’s a much more dangerous epidemic.

An epidemic of self-protection. A sickness that defines itself by validation from others. A disease that stifles conviction, and forces God-given potential back into the turtle shell of self-doubt.

It’s ugly.  It’s sinful.  And it’s something I battle daily in my own life.

Below is an excerpt from my personal journal. A little butt kicking I got from God last week (He wears big shoes, but I think they’re Toms. Soft soles).  A bit of a pep talk that may mean something to you, too.

6-29-2010

Stop waiting for others to define or validate you. If you blow it, blow it BIG.  And blow it based on a deep conviction you feel in your heart.  Stop waiting for a wave to ride.  Go create a wave!

Stop mentally adjusting to criticism you haven’t really heard, but imagine or anticipate. That’s CRAZY!  Put what you think out there.  If others disagree, – listen, critique, adjust if needed – but don’t hide out of fear of rejection or criticism. You’re big enough to handle that.

Listen for God’s voice, but when you hear as much as a whisper – GO!  Run!  Stop waiting for others to give you permission. Stop trying to hedge your potential for mistakes.  Stop being a slave to opinion.  Start being a true follower of Christ.

Does any of this resonate with you?  Are you ever paralyzed by the fear of screwing things up? Of facing shame from those who may see things differently?  Are you avoiding creating, injecting, speaking, writing, asking, or starting something today because you lack the courage to face the criticism if you’re wrong?

What if we feared missing a God-0pportunity more than we feared making a mistake?

Shame comes in all shapes and sizes:

A big zit on your nose.

A past full of brokenness and abuse.

A rip in the seam of your pants.

A failed marriage.

Silly or serious, we’ve all felt it. The exposure of a vulnerability or apparent shortcoming that drives us to run away. To cover up. To hide. And unfortunately, The Church (my church, even me personally) can foster environments of shame, even when we’re not intentionally trying to.

It makes sense. The Church, a place of grace, hope, and unconditional love, is also an environment full of expectations. Standards of behavior naturally emerge in any culture, but engaging in Church culture comes with a built-in assumption of moral superiority. We profess faith in God and innately feel our lives should reflect that (even if we don’t).

And while some shame is understandably innate, some is undeniably overt. We’d be lying to ourselves if we didn’t admit there are many in the Church who willingly use shame as a means to control. To maintain power over people. To protect their personal preferences. To manipulate others towards their desired outcomes.

Innate or overt, when we fall short (which we always do), shame moves in. Becomes a constant companion. And shame is a horrific house guest.

God deals in conviction, not shame. Shame is based in condemnation, in pointing out deficiencies with the intent of rejecting, judging, or looking down on another. And Jesus didn’t come into the word to do that:

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. (John 3:17 NLT)

Yet in so many church environments shame is still a primary motivator, filling our sanctuaries with guilty people. Hiding people. Manipulated people. Self-righteous people. Frightened people. Fake people. Or in more and more cases, empty seats.

So how do we know when God is convicting or when shame is condemning? Here’s some thoughts:

Shame is an ego-protection mechanism that focuses on how we appear to others.
Conviction is an inward re-alignment with who God is and has called us to be.

Shame conforms us to man-made expectations.
Conviction leads us to repentance.

Shame causes us to create false perceptions of reality.
Conviction leads us to openly face who we really are.

Shame manipulates and imprisons.
Conviction heals and frees.

Shame misuses aspects of truth to manage and control.
Conviction reconnects us to absolute truth.

Shame formulates outward behavioral modification.
Conviction births true inward transformation.

Shame pushes us towards self-protection.
Conviction pushes us towards Christ.

Shame asks us to do the work.
Conviction drives us towards the One who already did it all.

Which one is driving you? What is being fostered in your environments? What do you think?

Sometimes I’m less than honest.  With others.  With God.  Even with myself.  No, I’m not a compulsive liar, but I may need therapy.  And you may, too.

Have you ever noticed how often we can get caught up in should?  How should I think?  How should I feel?  How should I respond?  What should I say?  Not all bad, especially when we’re dealing with God.  Our gut reaction, our flesh, is usually not the best way to think, act, or talk.  God has standards for our lives, right?  And if some of you are like me, anytime you have a natural reaction that goes against what you know (or believe you know) about God, you stuff it.  You pretend you never thought it, never said it, never felt it.  That’s not how I should be feeling.  Get back in line.

And that check up isn’t all bad.  We want to be sensitive to the unfolding of God’s character inside of our lives.  We want to feel that prick when we step over the line or when our thoughts or responses aren’t pleasing to Him.  We want to submit our natural desires to God’s ultimate design for our lives.  But when we fail to disclose, or worse yet even acknowledge, what really exists inside of us, we really have no hope of ever becoming all God created us to be.  We’re less than honest.  We’re liars.

That veneer makes us fake.  Churches are full of people who are talking and acting like they think they should, and not necessarily as they really are.  At times our desire to conform to church cultural expectations can override what God really desires from us:  total and complete honesty and vulnerability before Him and with one another.

We’re all broken and damaged.  We all fall far short of God’s intent for our lives.  When we’re hurt, or fearful, or angry, or (insert your visceral emotional response of choice here), the best response is to be honest with ourselves, with each other, and most of all with God.  But most of us either hide or wallow in it.  We pretend we’re holy, or we swim freely in the bitterness.  Neither option works.

God wants to move beyond the veneer.  He doesn’t want us to falsely act as we we think we should, but to be as we really are.  And then, in the midst of that transparent honesty, to allow Him to mold and shape and transform us into what He desires.  But most of us won’t admit where we really are, or we’re just content to stay there.

King David was called “a man after God’s own heart,” not because He did everything as he should (check out 2 Samuel for yourself), but because he was completely open and honest before God (check out the book of Psalms for some amazingly transparent rantings).  He allowed God to transform who he really was.  God was able to do great things through David, not because he was perfect, but because he honestly allowed God to invade his imperfection.

God wants to violently collide with our reality.  Not with what we think we should be, but with who we really are.  Under the veneer.

“I have no interest in what you have – only in you.” (2 Cor. 12:15 MSG)

How do we get our lives to this point?  In a world of social networking where all relationships seem to be leveraged for some personal purpose, how do we build lives, how do we build churches, that are led void of self-gain?  We all need each other (it’s part of God’s design), but even in a place of spiritual leadership I notice how easy it is to become engulfed in what I need others to bring to the organization or movement I’m leading.  Musical talent.  Artistry.  Organizational skills.  Money (hey, let’s be honest).  People can easily become commodities, and if we’re not careful, we begin to lead out of what we need from people, rather than what we can do for people.

Leveraging people’s gifts, talents, and resources for God’s purposes is part of the reality and the beauty of the church.  But if we only build into relationships for what we will get in return, it doesn’t take long for that emptiness to show itself.  The apostle Paul (who penned the opening words of this post) wasn’t driven by what he needed from people.  He didn’t coddle them to keep them happy.  He didn’t use their gifts for his personal gain.  He led out of conviction, passion, and obedience, and the results have shown themselves in generation after generation for the last 2,000 years.

Just food for thought…how do you see people?