Stop Hiding

Stop Hiding

A Sermon for First Austin: a baptist community of faith

By Carrie Houston

Hebrews 4:12-16

October 14, 2018

The great and wise brene brown describes vulnerability as “uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure.”

So here I go….

For the majority of my life, I was overweight. I was a chubby kid that didn’t look anything like my skinny sister or best friend.  When I joined the pep squad my freshman year of high school, i had to have my uniform skirt specially made because they didn’t have one large enough for. As if my confidence and self-esteem wasn’t low enough, one time I overheard a youth worker at my church making fun of me behind my back, to all the boys, that I was likely the one that ate the last donut. Ouch.

I began to wear baggy clothes so I could conceal my curves.

(what’s painfully ironic is that today I would have been totally in style since wearing oversized tshirts to hide any semblance of body shape seems to be what all the teen girls are going for)

my go-to concealer wasn’t in my makeup bag.  It was my oversized Texas a&m sweatshirt I got on clearance at the a&m bookstore the year I went on a college visit. There was nothing special about it.  It was a really ugly sweatshirt actually.  Not just because it’s an aggie shirt, but because it was gray and the graphics were poorly designed.  It was the last one on the rack and it was three sizes too big but who doesn’t like a good bargain? I felt most comfortable wearing it because I knew people couldn’t see my true shape and judge me for what was under it. It was sort of like my invisibility cloak.  No one would notice me if I hid under it. No one would see how insecure I was.  How much pain I was carrying.

I’ll never forget this moment my senior year of college.  one day, I was hanging out with a good friend, wearing my go-to outfit.  He asked “why do you always wear the same oversized sweatshirt?”

Uh oh, someone was on to me. I stumbled over the words of my lie and made up an excuse about it being comfortable and tried to change the subject.  

He said, “stop. You’re beautiful the way you are.  Stop hiding.”

He saw me.  He saw the Carrie that was hiding under the clothes. The real me, not just the one on the outside.

It’s scary to be exposed.  To let others see the “you” you hide. The you that doesn’t want anyone to see your insecurities, or the “you” that barely made it out of bed today. The you that’s afraid to say no, or stand up for yourself. The you that is so ashamed because you are being bullied, or doesn’t want to look weak in front of others.  The you that has to make tough decisions, has to ask for help, or needs to be held accountable for your actions. The you that wants to come out to your parents but is so terrified of their rejection.

this is vulnerability. exposed for everyone to see.

The imagery in the scripture passage today really strikes a chord with me. It says “all are naked and laid bare” to God.   Oh great.  Just what the girl with image insecurities needs to hear. It’s like that terrifying dream you have where you are naked right before you give a big speech. You are exposed, and everyone can see all of you. And they are laughing. Isn’t this everyone’s worst nightmare? i think it’s mine. That and those dreams where I’m falling or being chased by a clown.

With god all of our thoughts, our intentions, our dreams, our pride, our failures, our deepest, darkest secrets, are all exposed.  We can’t hide behind a big, baggy sweatshirt. God sees into all of us. All the good.  And all the bad.  “Lord you have searched me and know me.  You know everything I do. When I sit down. when I rise up, you discern my thoughts from far away.  Where can I go from your spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? Wherever I go, you are there.” the Psalm writer gets it.  Our god sees us.  Sees the real you.

Being vulnerable is painful.  It forces us to take a deep look at ourselves and accept that the reflection we see in the mirror is actually who we are, scars and all.  It’s difficult work. it’s why so often we run far away from it.  It’s easier to bottle everything up and push it aside than to say “I’m sorry,” or to risk failure, criticism, judgement or heart break. It’s easier to put on a mask that says “no, really, I’ve got it all together” when really, your life feels like it’s falling apart.

But what would happen if we did vulnerability together? In community? What would that look like? like griff preached last week, being the church means we have to be willing to be involved in one another’s lives, to share our emotions, our struggles, our burdens.  Not just listen when someone shares where they struggle the most, but to be vulnerable with someone else and say “I struggle with that too, and im really hurting.” Vulnerability a two-way street. That’s messy. And brave. But that’s what we are called to, as Galatians says, “to bear one another’s burdens.”

On the first night of youth camp this year, students were handed a notecard and colored pencil as they entered the worship space.  Griff instructed students and adults alike to think of a secret they were hiding and write it on the note card.

You may have seen something like this before.  There’s this ongoing community art project called Post secret where people mail in their secrets, completely anonymously, and then they are displayed in museum exhibits or on the website. It’s really amazing what people are willing to share with perfect strangers, knowing their secret won’t find its way back to the author.  

Griff showed a few examples to the students of postcards posted on the website so they could have an idea of what the exercise would entail.

Here are a few examples from the website: one card said, “at fourteen, I memorized the chart at the doctor’s office so my parents wouldn’t know I needed glasses.”  Another said, “it was not until I was in my 30s that I realized pickles came from cucumbers.” And a more sincere card said, “I feel like I’m existing, instead of living.”

After filling out their note card, baskets were passed around the room and cards were collected, to be displayed for everyone to see.  I’m pretty sure Griff forgot to mention that part of the activity because you could feel the tension in the room. You could see the panic and dread on their faces.  As griff continued to preach, adults began hanging the cards all around the worship space. Their secret was about to be displayed on the wall, read by others and so many were not prepared for that.

As part of the conclusion to worship that evening, we had the opportunity to collectively walk around and read the cards that hung from the wall. I found myself struck by the bravery and honesty of these students to reveal some really personal and painful things.  I read so many cards that really resonated with me and what I’ve been through, especially as I look back at my teenaged years and I wanted to run out into the crowd and find the author of the card, hug them and say, “me too! It’s going to be ok. We can do this together.”

Vulnerability can bring us closer together as a community, and make our community stronger than ever if we are just willing to share our burdens with each other!  You’d be surprised how many people are carrying those same burdens, even if you thought they had everything together. How might your life be different if you reached across the aisle and shared your heart with someone? what would the world look like if we all did that?

And just like being vulnerable with each other brings us closer together, if we allow ourselves to be vulnerable before god, willing to let god into our deepest, most secret parts of us, that’s when we find real connection with our creator. Our god is always revealing herself to us and inviting us to do the same.

The truth is, God knows us so incredibly intimately, and loves us the same. Yes. God knows all parts of you. And loves you in spite of all the good and all the bad.  That secret that you are holding, that shame you are hiding, that thing you’re in denial about? god loves you anyways. I like to remind our teenagers often that there’s nothing you could do for god to love you less, and there’s nothing you can do for god to love you more.  God’s love is perfect. And god loves you completely. For all that you are. Truly.

Being vulnerable before god is how god is able to work in us and heal us when the messy parts of life overwhelm us, cut us to the core, so deeply wound us that we can’t find our way out of the hole.

When we are vulnerable before god, we find the grace we need for healing, grace to give ourselves a break, to forgive our abusers, to let go of our pain.  It doesn’t mean that we will come out of it without any scars, but instead, we are able to says with real honesty, “god, I need you and can’t do this without you.”  

You can follow all the rules, be the best, most benevolent person you can be, and still find yourself struggling with disappointment and pain. It doesn’t matter if you do everything right. Pain and suffering will find you.  But acknowledging our brokenness before god, allows god to work in our lives.  It’s here that we can experience the fullness of a loving relationship with our creator.

But It’s risky. It’s risky to giving all you’ve got and knowing you might not be loved or accepted in return.   Isn’t that exactly what Jesus did?

Jesus loved so deeply, so willing to expose his true self that he would wash the feet of his disciples, a powerful act of service and humility, knowing full well Judas would betray him over 30 pieces of silver.  He loved so deeply knowing peter, his rock, would deny him three times before dawn.  and Pontius Pilate, instead of administering justice under the law, washes his hands of it. And at the very end, jesus dies believing even god abandoned him. He says, “my god, my god, why have you forsaken me?”

This is Jesus, the son of god, risking everything and still he experienced betrayal and rejection…

But that’s not where the story ends. God did not abandon Jesus. God vindicates him. Through his resurrection, God says to the world, darkness cannot overcome light.  Death with not prevail.  all those things you hate about yourself, all those things you’ve done to disconnect from me, all those things you’ve done to hurt others? Well, you are still worthy of love and belonging and I love you.

So as we go into the world, may we go out with the power of a love that burns with vulnerability, letting others into our lives, risking pain and disappointment, giving ourselves out of love, holding nothing back, and letting those who will receive us the opportunity to love us back, weaknesses and all, holding fast to the truth that the creator of the universe loves you for you, even the “you” you hide.

*artwork: Resurrection, by Marie Luise Strohmenger, artmajeur.com/marie-luise-strohmenger