Masks

When I was the student pastor at my former church I would hold an annual lock in called the,”Intense Lock-In”. It was always based around some sort of theme dealing with our daily walk with Christ. (In fact if you are a youth pastor and would like to use some or all of the ideas from those lock-ins go to my resourcing website, thebereanlife.com, and find them under free resources) Year one was based around growing in our relationships with people and God, year two was based on honoring God with our bodies, and year three was a hodge-podge of varying subjects.

We began the night of year three with each teen having a blank piece of card-stock. Their mission was to draw and cut out a mask. This mask was to represent a sin or something else in our life that they we’re hiding behind. If they felt led to they could share with everyone else what their “mask” was. As I drew my own mask I took notice of the teens in the sanctuary as they drew their own. You would have thought I asked some of them to come on stage and reveal the darkest sins of their life. Some teens drew and shared their “mask”, others drew but didn’t share, and others didn’t draw at all. These are some of the results I found.

• The mask of popularity- insecurity
• The mask of promiscuity- afraid of being alone
• The mask of I don’t care what you think or say- to seem big or bad
• The mask of alcohol or drugs- acceptance, or escape reality
• The mask of pride- insecurity
• The mask of gossip- we don’t like ourselves

After we talked about our masks I led the teens in a group shredding as we each held up our mask and ripped it in half. It was a symbolic way for us all to proclaim that living these false lives stopped once and for all. However, something is funny about feeling boldness and later on fighting your flesh and what it wants. Unless you stand determined your flesh will conquer your spirit.

I don’t have enough fingers, toes, and vital body organs to count the number of times I told myself in high school I would stop looking at pornography, yet just to find myself days or hours later back at it again. In high school my mask definitely would have been pornography, however years later my mask had become something worse to me. It wasn’t hardcore porn, drugs, alcoholism, fornication, or anything of the like. I had become prideful.

Being humble in high school was no problem for me. To me, laying aside my pride in anything and everything I did meant no greater joy to me. To do things behind the scenes and watch God get all the glory for it was a thrilling passion for me. However, humbleness took a back door when someone delivered the worst news my heart and mind could ever hear, “Phillip, you have a gift for preaching.”

So the slippery slope began. I had learned from years in debate and forensics how to speak and deliver a message well with all the right postures, hand movements, eye contacts, and arrangement of words. After studying my youth and senior pastors, watching pastors of mega churches on the television, and visiting other churches I took mental notes on what was effective in reaching a crowd and what caused a church to tone you out. Yet, somebody had the nerve to tell my humble little self that I had taken all this knowledge and made a preacher out of myself. Oy vey!

During my freshman year in college I preached a handful of times for my youth pastor as he would be gone out of town for any number of reasons. Thus, as the preaching increased so did the complements and so did my ego. This became a back and forth fight between my mind and will for the next several years. As the youth/ student pastor at my prior church this struggle only increased as parents and students alike congratulated me on my latest sermon. In fact this pride vs. humility clash became so bad that I even pondered how much better my church would be if I was preaching every Sunday morning. Talk about arrogance. Talk about not knowing how to submit to your pastoral authority.

Thus, on that third Intense lock-in as I was drawing my mask I knew immediately what my mask was; pride! Pride with a capital P! Yet, if pride was my mask what I was using it to hide. What was I trying to use my gift to speak and communicate to hide people from seeing? Being the youth pastor I felt the need to set the precedent and opened up about my mask first. I didn’t need to prepare a mini-message or homily for this speech. The words came flowing out almost naturally.

I said, “Teens my mask is pride. You may see it; you may not. But, I am a very prideful person. I take great strides in what I do at this church and in my personal life. I love impressing people. I love looking great in the eyes of those around me. When people think of me I want them to think of greatness when it comes to delivering a sermon. Why? It’s because I don’t like who I really am. You girls think you have body issues; let me tell you about mine. As long as I have been in school I have always been the shortest person in my grade. I have always been picked on because of my size. I have always been the butt of every short joke. People assume that I’m anorexic, bulimic or that I don’t eat simply because I’m skinny. I have been turned down for a job at a pizzeria because the boss felt I was too short. When I play sports people don’t take me seriously because of my size. Thus, the only thing athletically I’ve been able to enjoy are single person sports. Because of my size I look younger then I am. Young enough to get carded when buying anything that is 18 and over; asked if I was even old enough to drive. I have been overlooked and undervalued because of who I am. However, being able to preach has been my way of taking all that disrespect over the years and saying hey look at me now. I guess I am worth something. Huh? “

That night I ripped that mask with all the fury within me as I made a vow of humility. One problem; within a month I would be preaching for five consecutive Sundays as I addressed the church on how to properly evangelize. It was like asking an alcoholic to go to a bar for five straight days with an unlimited tab and ask him to only buy water. The final day of the sermon series I was so wrapped up in putting an unbelievable finish to the series that I totally bypassed bringing up a parishioner of ours who was back from basic training in the Marines. He was preparing to leave to serve our country by putting his life on the line, and I couldn’t take the time to set aside three minutes of my sermon to thank him for his sacrificial service. Talk about his real humility. Talk about my ugly pride.

I think God saw that I needed some time to get my priorities in order and I preached maybe two more times that year. Some people assumed that the pastor didn’t want me preaching again, but now it seems that God wasn’t going to let my ego get out of control again. The only way I beat my pornography problem was by starving it to death. God defeated my stronghold to pride produced by preaching by starving it as well. However, those two times I did preach went amazingly awesome. God was totally the focus, totally the center, and received all the praise. It felt great to shake people’s hands, received old ladies hugs, and hear words of congratulations as I rejoiced with them not in me but in Christ.

Being a Catholic now gives me no chance for the mask of pride to re-enter my life. Everything I do I get to do behind the scenes. There is no paycheck, no spot on the church website or bulletin, no official business cards, no public stage, no microphone; just me looking around seeing where I can help next. It’s no longer about trying to impress anyone. The only acceptance I need to worry about I already have in the eyes of God.