Masks

[DISCLAIMER: This is a longer first post than I intended to write. But it's really what's been on my heart lately, so buckle down!]

My friend Flo pointed out to me that Until We Have Faces is not only a book, but also a song. I should probably look that one up. I also realized by my own brilliant self that C. S. Lewis’s book is called TIl We Have Faces, not Until We Have Faces. Go figure. I can’t quote the title of my own favorite book.

That aside, I’ve pondered of late what “until we have faces” really means. The first thing that came to mind was the scene when Red Skull tears off his mask in Captain America. Did I ever mention that I used Captain America in two impromptu speeches this year? And in one of them I contrasted him with Iron Man. Yup J

Actually, that scene wouldn’t be a bad example if it weren’t such a negative one.

It seems like nobody has a face anymore. We all wear masks, and they can get pretty elaborate. Superficial conversations seem to be the limit; deep discussions with people about Spiritual struggles and God’s instruction are, at least for me, very rare. (This is largely my fault. I often fail to initiate these conversations.) Getting close to someone’s heart is touching their personal space. It’s not politically correct. So we have these fun, fluffy little chats where we portray ourselves has happy or-if we’re just that spiritual-blessed.

I have nothing against blogs, Facebook, twitter, or anything like that (obviously). But so often they only aid and abet this worldwide masquerade. We post pictures of us lookin’ snazzy, hanging with our buddies, and going on vacation. Our statuses are cute little quotes or blurbs about what we’ve been up to lately. Nobody sees the real us, the one that struggles and thinks and yearns for more than what this world has to offer. In fact, we’re encouraged to hide this true self and become a cultural cookie cutter.

Some unique individuals *cough* homeschoolers *cough cough* refuse to become cookie cutters but pride themselves in nerdy science fiction books, old TV shows, music, debate, art, poetry or whatever it may be. Those things become our identity. It’s still mask wearing. The masks are just special, or weird, depending on how you look at it.

Worst of all, even Christians are wearing masks. When we become believers, we are not only identified with Christ, but His spirit moves into our bodies and begins transforming our souls into his image. Galatians 1 says “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me.” We are dead! Gone! We’ve been remade into something better, something that will someday be perfected and glorified. Christ is alive in us. But we try to hide it. We’re ashamed of our transformation. That shame is apparent because we refrain from telling people, even the people we care most for, about our change. It’s ridiculous when you really think about it.

When God commissioned us for His army, He didn’t call us to be spies. We’re soldiers. And there shouldn’t be any doubt about which side a soldier is fighting for.

Remember in Voyage of the Dawn Treader, when Eustace is turned into a dragon? The real Eustace is buried under layer upon layer of tough scales. This cover keeps him from living as the person he was created to be. Aslan has to help him tear of the scales, layer upon embedded layer. And it hurts. Oh, it burns more fiercely than anything Eustace has ever felt. The scales fall away, and Eustace is left raw and exposed. But he has been changed, and the real him, the part changed by Aslan, is shining through.

We wear masks for years and years, without taking them off for even a breath of fresh air. They grow into our faces. Tearing them away hurts-it means self-sacrifice. It means risking being hurt and misunderstood. But when we are willing to let our transformation shine unmasked, to be a real, deep person who’s not ashamed of their calling, God can really use us. Mom has a kitchen knife with a plastic cover. While trying to cut a tomato the other day, I made the astute observation that you have to take the cover off before the knife can be used.

As I write this, I am convicted. I’m still a mask wearer. But I want to change that. I want to stop the superficial conversations, and start living for what matters. I’m excited to see the face God is going to give me-and the one He’ll give you.