So That It May Be Seen Plainly

It started out as a relaxing afternoon. After sitting through a very loud Kenyan church service this morning (cranking the volume to the maximum is apparently a virtue here), I came back to my dorm room ready to soak up some quiet. Read my Bible for a while, journaled, and then, like my roommates -who were also enjoying the quiet- laid down to take a short nap.

Lying there, my thoughts focused on architecture; specifically, the terrible acoustics of this dorm building. Sound travels from one end to the other without impediment, a feature only amplified by our location across from the open staircase. I could hear parents calling their children (over and over again!), people telling stories about their church visits this morning, and (this was my favorite), an intense battle against bad guys, complete with sound effects and fought with gusto by four small boys. Did I mention that I could clearly understand what each person was saying and tell who was saying it? I felt like a spy.

The only problem was that I wanted to SLEEP, not spy. I drifted into a vague, choppy daydream in which I imagined delivering scathing speeches to the offending parties. My words were lethal, attacking their personality flaws, lack of character, and their unfitness to be parents or missionaries. I woke up (to a Scottish five-year-old's voice outside my door hollering, "There's a baddie, right there! Let's go get 'im!"), and I was ashamed -- and still irritated.

I sat there feeling miserably sorry for myself. And then God brought to mind a verse I'd read and written down just an hour earlier:

"Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed. But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what he has done has been done through God." (John 3:20-21)

Earlier in the chapter, Jesus was speaking to the Jewish leader Nicodemus, explaining that one must be born of the Spirit to see the Kingdom of heaven. The verses I just quoted are the end of that passage. Jesus was trying to help Nicodemus see that his birth as a Jew or status as keeper and teacher of the law did not automatically qualify him to recognize or understand what God was doing. Only the Holy Spirit, working inside him to transform him (being "born again"), could open his eyes.

When I am wrong, I want to hide and pretend. In fact, I was thinking that I would have to spend all day in my room to preserve my reputation as a nice person (better a recluse than a viper, right?). But following Christ isn't about pretending to be something in order to make God or other people happy. It's about coming into the light as the broken, ugly person I know I am and living by a strength and love I don't possess on my own. It's living honestly enough "that it may be seen plainly" how great, loving, and merciful my God is.

I thought of Hebrews 4, which says that everything is laid bare before Him and nothing remains hidden from His sight. And then I smiled to remember the verses that follow that statement:

"Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who was tempted in every way, just as we are -- yet without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." (Hebrews 4:14-16)

I didn't have to spend the rest of the day in my room. Instead, I approached the throne of grace with confidence, laid down my ugly attitude, and received a lavish gift of mercy, paid for by a high priest who surely knows what it is to be irritated -- yet continues to choose love.

After receiving what I knew I didn't deserve, I found that I had some left over for my "hit list."