StriperAddict
Senior Member
You can’t hide behind a religious mask forever; sooner or later the mask will slip and your true face will be known. Luke 12 The Message
In the end, we're not just actors. We're also irrational directors of a badly over-stylized play, teaching those we love how to pose and masquerade, memorize fake lines, rehearse expressions, and produce false tears on command.
Our masks deceive us into believing we can hide our true selves. We can't. In time, others can usually see what we're trying to hide. No matter how beautifully formed, our masks eventually reveal us as warped figures. All masks eventually crack, buckle, or unravel.
So, why do believers wear more masks than others? All masks are the product of pretending something in our lives is true, even if experience denies it. We may even be fueled by a sincere desire to make God look good by having our act together. He has no need for such help, but we think it's our duty. So, we hide our scars and pretend we're modeling to the world how well God treats His followers. Instead, we just come off weird and smug.
The greatest hope for any mask-wearer is in understanding all masks eventually crack and dissolve, gradually revealing what is hidden beneath. All masks crumble because they are man-made. This is a good thing, though. Imagine if the mask didn't crack. It would forever separate us from love, authenticity, and freedom. We could go our entire lives missing what we were created to enjoy. Our endlessly loving God allows our masks to fall apart because He cares so deeply for us.
Once we weary enough of mask-wearing, we can begin rediscovering the true face of Jesus. He is the centerpiece in the Room of Grace. Jesus will always nudge us further out into the open, allowing our true faces to be revealed. Our true faces are beautiful, too. God made them exactly the way He wanted, and He longs to see His reflection. The trouble with papier-mâché is it doesn't reflect.
All of us wake up one day to the pain of realizing we can't control our lives the way we thought we could. We're still stuck with unresolved issues, symptoms we're trying to fix, without anyone's help. Only that sort of revelation will free me into the stunning, life-giving hope of this next statement: "What if there was a place so safe that the worst of me could be known, and I would discover that I would not be loved less, but more In the telling of it?"
That place exists. And when you reach it, unresolved issues will begin to heal. You'll gather up stacks of masks and toss them in the dumpster, brushing your hands together as you walk away. Then, you'll walk out into the daylight, your skin feeling the morning air for the first time since you can remember. You'll drink in the beauty of flowers and earth, free from those nauseating fumes of epoxy holding your face to a mask.
The Cure, Chapter Two, Two Faces
In the end, we're not just actors. We're also irrational directors of a badly over-stylized play, teaching those we love how to pose and masquerade, memorize fake lines, rehearse expressions, and produce false tears on command.
Our masks deceive us into believing we can hide our true selves. We can't. In time, others can usually see what we're trying to hide. No matter how beautifully formed, our masks eventually reveal us as warped figures. All masks eventually crack, buckle, or unravel.
So, why do believers wear more masks than others? All masks are the product of pretending something in our lives is true, even if experience denies it. We may even be fueled by a sincere desire to make God look good by having our act together. He has no need for such help, but we think it's our duty. So, we hide our scars and pretend we're modeling to the world how well God treats His followers. Instead, we just come off weird and smug.
The greatest hope for any mask-wearer is in understanding all masks eventually crack and dissolve, gradually revealing what is hidden beneath. All masks crumble because they are man-made. This is a good thing, though. Imagine if the mask didn't crack. It would forever separate us from love, authenticity, and freedom. We could go our entire lives missing what we were created to enjoy. Our endlessly loving God allows our masks to fall apart because He cares so deeply for us.
Once we weary enough of mask-wearing, we can begin rediscovering the true face of Jesus. He is the centerpiece in the Room of Grace. Jesus will always nudge us further out into the open, allowing our true faces to be revealed. Our true faces are beautiful, too. God made them exactly the way He wanted, and He longs to see His reflection. The trouble with papier-mâché is it doesn't reflect.
All of us wake up one day to the pain of realizing we can't control our lives the way we thought we could. We're still stuck with unresolved issues, symptoms we're trying to fix, without anyone's help. Only that sort of revelation will free me into the stunning, life-giving hope of this next statement: "What if there was a place so safe that the worst of me could be known, and I would discover that I would not be loved less, but more In the telling of it?"
That place exists. And when you reach it, unresolved issues will begin to heal. You'll gather up stacks of masks and toss them in the dumpster, brushing your hands together as you walk away. Then, you'll walk out into the daylight, your skin feeling the morning air for the first time since you can remember. You'll drink in the beauty of flowers and earth, free from those nauseating fumes of epoxy holding your face to a mask.
The Cure, Chapter Two, Two Faces
