When I was in middle school and high school, I had the craziest bunch of friends. We made movies, we did skits, we played pranks. We would dress up in ridiculous costumes or pull ridiculous stunts (legal) in public places just to see others’ reactions or for the sake of one of our movies—or simply for the sake of fun! When I was with them and we were working on a project, I never cared a bit what the world around me thought. In fact, the more outlandish we seemed, the better! I was so consumed and so tuned in to what my friends thought, the weight of the opinions around me ceased to matter. I knew what audience mattered to me and that was my scope on life. In those moments, I became completely uninterested in pleasing people outside my group-- mostly because I simply didn't have the capacity but also because of who I deemed most important.
I’m aware I just described every adolescent that ever lived. Maybe not in the specifics, but in their focus on one group, on one audience. On their inability to realize more people are watching. But then we grow up. And instead of uprooting our deep need of approval from our friends, we begin to apply it to every person we come in contact with-- and even some we don't. Every opinion from every single person begins to matter and every comment weighs so deep in our heart that it keeps us up at night. Some of this growing up is good and necessary—we can’t continue to live for peers forever. But maybe some of it isn’t so good. Where does the shift happen from needing to please few to needing to please all? It’s made me wonder if perhaps God’s call for us to have child-like faith means more than just believing in the impossible? Perhaps it’s also having the unwavering confidence to be who we are without care of the world’s take on us.
Galatians 6:14
“As for me, may I never boast about anything except the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. Because of that cross, my interest in the world has been crucified, and the world’s interest in me has also died.”
I love this verse because it speaks straight to the expectations of believers. Expectations that have the power to either embolden us in our faith or weaken us in our constant deliberation over what to say, what to do, and what is right. Part of our struggle in speaking truth is establishing just what truth is. Another large portion of it is wanting permission to speak it once it is discovered. By laying out clear expectations, this verse gives us answers to both. It tells us by surrendering to the cross and the one who once hung on it for our sakes, two things will happen.
The first is this: if we are genuinely wanting to please Jesus and obedience to him is our ultimate goal, the things this world has to offer will lose their luster. If obedience is truly our goal, we can consider it a success when we complete the task, not when we receive acknowledgement for it. It’s not saying we will no longer feel or desire earthly pleasures. After all, we do still have flesh and we do still live in this world. It means that we will no longer live and die for them, and we will recognize even our earthly blessings are also from heavenly places. We may still enjoy things of this world, but having our sight set on God will make it easier to keep them in their rightful place and to turn loose of them when necessary.
The second truth and perhaps the one we need most to hear is this: when we lose our interest in this world, it will lose its interest in us. This means we shouldn’t be surprised when we aren’t widely liked, accepted, applauded, or celebrated. We can’t be taken aback by the world’s clear disinterest in our pursuit of God’s truth. This outcome is not a mere possibility of deepening our relationship with Christ; it is an impossibility of a servant who can only please one master.
I’ve heard it said before that you cannot face your reader and your critic at the same time. You can’t share a message to one audience and disclaim to another in the same breath or you won’t have said anything at all. When we try to please the whole world, our message and our words lack weight and they will ultimately lack truth. We may gain the ability to fly under the radar, to simply exist, but we won't have really pleased anyone. We must face one audience and seek to please only him. The idea of “audience of one” has been so central to my thoughts lately and from what I have read, many others’ as well. The truth is we do have an audience of one, but that head knowledge isn’t enough until it changes our focus and changes our lives.
When we bravely follow God's plans for our lives, it should come as no surprise that we will begin to have a new perspective. A new compassion for a broken world-- a world that we are all too familiar with. But in this shift, our heart will be for serving this world, not pleasing or competing with it. The world has new rules daily. New guidelines. New standards, demands, and expectations. Living to serve it and seeking to please it leaves us exhausted, confused, and a deep sense of emptiness. A sense of needing to keep moving in order to keep up and stay seen. Jesus only asks for our surrender. He never changes or demands perfection. The world asks that we play the part, appear a certain way, and change so that we may fit the mold for the day. Jesus sees every broken place and accepts us as we are but doesn’t leave us that way. In his redemption, we are transformed. And in this miraculous transformation, how can we not want to serve him above all else? The one who knows us best yet loves us most? In this endeavor, we will lose many fans, much applause, and all interest from the world. We will also lose shame, emptiness, striving in vain, and the haunting feeling of never feeling like enough. Let’s boast in that boldly and not fear that in the process we may be losing a popularity contest.
Galatians 6:4
"Pay careful attention to your own work, for then you will get the satisfaction of a job well done, and you won't need to compare yourself to anyone else."
Comentários