My anger towards God revealed my hidden, wounded self. He was hidden behind the performing perfectionist who can never be good enough.

“As we come to grips with our own selfishness and stupidity, we make friends with the impostor and accept that we are impoverished and broken and realize that, if we were not, we would be God. The art of gentleness toward ourselves leads to being gentle with others — and is a natural prerequisite for our presence to God in prayer.”

Brennan Manning, “Abba’s Child”

Becoming a “Great” Christian

I dealt with my own weaknesses and inadequacies by creating an ideal image of myself. This would be the person I throw all of my energy into becoming. As a young athlete, I made it my goal to be a great basketball player. I poured hours of my life into developing skills and watching Michael Jordan. My approach to God was similar. I wanted to be a “great” Christian. My idea of this person I wanted to be did not always line up with Jesus’ definition of being great. Jesus calls for humility, putting others first, being a servant, and living sacrificially. My idea was to be all of those things and more with a lot of selfish motives mixed in.

From my perspective, the stars of the Christian game were pastors, speakers, musicians, and anyone who was on stage and could speak well into a microphone. They were the Christians who had “arrived” at the top. People admired them, talked about them, repeated what they said, bought their books and t-shirts, and tried to be like them. So, I figured that in order to be a great Christian, I needed to become one of them.

To be fair, many of these people are truly admirable, gifted leaders whom God has entrusted with a platform. As a kid, I didn’t realize that behind the scenes these people are regular human beings who have their own struggles. Sometimes they are living in terrible darkness that no one knows about. It was a different era before we knew phrases such as “mega-church” and “celebrity Christians”.

For example, the guy I quoted above, Brennan Manning was an incredibly gifted Christian writer and speaker who was in and out of treatment centers for alcoholism his entire life. His memoir, “All Is Grace“, was written on his deathbed and really shocked me at the time. I could easily accept that he “used to be an alcoholic”. You know, before he met Jesus. I assumed Jesus fixed him of course and he became a great Christian. In reality, Jesus walked with him in and out of treatment centers his whole life. These experiences helped him find the words that are so meaningful.

These days it’s rather common that a Christian leader is in the news for some kind of moral failing. I am grieved, but no longer shocked. Of course they are human. Of course they are broken. We’re all vulnerable, and we all need a healthy support system. No one has ever crossed the magic line into the realm of Christian perfection, nor will they.

Stumbling Home

From my early assumptions and expectations, I formed this idea of what a great Christian should be. What I ended up building as a result was quite a self-righteous, prideful, judgmental, critical, religious, angry and confused person. This is the fruit of someone who tries to make the outside look great while neglecting their internal brokenness. I don’t know that these qualities were/are completely obvious to those around me. But I’m sure they have been sensed in some way. Again, these attributes were the result of a constructed self that I presented to the world while desperately trying to hide the parts of me that are weak and wounded. This construction I find in myself continues to be replicated today just as it has throughout history. The hard part is, it’s almost impossible to help a self-righteous person see his own brokenness. Jesus spoke his harshest words for self-righteous people like me. Even so, he spoke out of love because he longs for hardened religious people to come out of hiding.

I could only fool myself for so long. And everything I wanted to be, I could not live up to. I tried to follow the Bible and do what everyone said I needed to do. It’s impossible. I have too many weaknesses, and my personal battles with anxiety and shame kept me from performing well. Thus, erupting into my current writing out of exhaustion and frustration. I have played the game as far as I could and failed. In the severe mercy of God, I find myself stumbling home. Jesus is responds most readily with great compassionate towards people who know they are broken like me.

The Divided Self Re-United

The shadowy, wounded self emerges. There he is, revealed in the light. Suspiciously I watch as he is embraced by the Father.

The change begins to invade my entire being. Like a virus slowly replicating. I find myself reintegrating. One self, the perfectionist performer. The other self, the shameful failure. A new sense of wholeness comes over me.

Bringing the wounded and rejected self into the light is a kind of reunion. Now that I see you, I know who you are, and I know what I have done. You are me. I am learning to see you in the light of Jesus’ love. Without Jesus, I don’t know that I could love you or have the courage to go on this journey to find you.

In the light of his acceptance and forgiveness, I find the gentleness and grace to accept and forgive you. For being weak, broken. For having been born with the human condition. My high pressure career as a super Christian is over. What a relief to be given permission to be ordinary. Of course, no one is truly “ordinary”.

Here is a kind of beautiful and difficult reunion. My perfectionist, critical, judgmental self looks upon my imperfect, wounded, rejected self with a new kind of compassion. Along with compassion I am overcome with wonder and awe. This person is beautiful in his weakness. For in his weakness, there is a tender strength that I never appreciated before.

My formerly weak and rejected self looks back at the perfectionist performer who is critical and judgmental. I am leery of this ruthless performer I have created. Yet there is compassion growing for this person as well. This person tried to protect me and make life work for me. I have to learn to forgive him for being so hard on me.

The one self rejected. The other self manufactured in order to survive. They are both me. Both of them are walking into the light together. The work of reintegrating them is going to be a process. The challenges and pressures of life remain. And there are new challenges. I am used to living in my own deception. Coming into the light is a relief, and yet seeing myself more completely is rather shocking. Truth has set me free. With freedom comes new responsibility to continue growing. With the freedom of sobriety comes a process of recovery.

“When we are under the law- in our natural state- we feel that God is the enemy and that we get what we deserve. We naturally try to ‘earn’ life. We try to do whatever we think will get God to like us or whatever we think will solve our day-to-day problems. Thus, we are trying to ‘save ourselves’. We try to get God to not be mad, and we try by our own efforts to grow and resolve our issues. Yet (New Testament Apostle) Paul says that this way of living is the exact opposite of living according to faith and grace and that if we choose that law, we end up living out the law in real life. This is not just theology; it is exactly how people end up living out their real-life problems until they grasp the reality of grace.”

“How People Grow” by Dr John Townsend and Dr Henry Cloud

Thankfully, God is less of a haunting, critical presence and more of a friend who is also the King. His goodness and grace are the motivators that replace my fearful perceptions that used to drive me. It is time to learn what grace means for those of us who are in recovery.

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Reader Questions: Feel free to respond to one or more of these in the comments section below. I look forward to any discussions.

1. What kind of identity have you created in order to deal with life and make yourself more presentable to the world around you?
   
2. What does the word grace mean to you?
   

“So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when he adopted you as his own children. Now we call him, “Abba, Father.””

Romans 8:15