Psalm 101, 109
Jeremiah 18: 1-11
Romans 8: 1 –11
John 6: 27-40
Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever
believes in me will never be thirsty.” - John 6:35
The other week, Fr. Josh said something at the start of his sermon that really hit home. “We all want and need to be known.” This hit home because I often feel like I am five different people and that no one, but God, my husband and kids, truly knows who I am. I looked around the church that morning and thought I am likely no different from anyone else there. I show one type of person in client meetings, another type to the parents at the bus stop, another to my gym buddies and don’t even get me started on who I am on Facebook. At the end of the day, I can feel segmented and not very well understood.
I blame age. Mistakes and missteps in my earlier years have taught me to rein it in. You don’t say certain things in meetings or clients will think you’re not the consummate professional. You don’t let fly your frustration with the latest political brouhaha when talking with the other parents at school functions. And you don’t post overly sarcastic comments on Facebook because people will think you’re too dark. Stick with cute kid pics. Always a crowd pleaser.
It goes beyond self-censorship. We do it to others. All. The. Time. We “know” that Miley Cyrus is an attention-seeking, sex-obsessed lunatic. We “know” the Kardashians are capable of nothing more than what’s written for them on their scripted reality show. We “know” if you’re a Democrat, you hate oil and want to outlaw guns, and we “know” that if you’re a Republican, you hate the poor and are out to destroy the environment.
We don’t cut people slack, and we don’t think people are capable of anything more than our assumptions. We draw lines in the sand around ourselves and we draw them around others. Once, at a team-training session, I had to take the dreaded Myers Briggs test, and I scored the exact same as someone who I could not be more different from. One of the exercises was to draw a poster of what was important in my life. And in my classic pretentious style, one of the things I drew was a box with the words “don’t box me in.” I hate being defined. Yet I do it to myself and I do it to others.
So I mentioned at the beginning of this diatribe that I felt known by God, my husband and kids. And, I add to that that I feel known by the good people of Holy Spirit. I don’t feel like I have to censor myself or put on my game face. Holy Spirit is a soft, forgiving place to land on Sundays. It’s filled with people who share common struggles and who are striving to better know themselves, others and Christ. And for that, thanks be to God.
Susan Diemont-Conwell