How long have we been wearing masks?

Not the ones we can see, but the ones we wear to hide our struggles. Somewhere along the way, many of us, including myself, have become experts at hiding—Carrying burdens we were never meant to carry alone. 

Over the last few days, I have been reading and reflecting on Matthew 23. I keep coming back to Jesus’ words about the Pharisees and the religious leaders. As I read, my thoughts continually turned to the church, the people and myself. 

I have experienced both the beauty and the brokenness of the church. I have stood on mountaintops of incredible faith and walked through valleys of deep spiritual hurt. Through it all, one truth continues to weigh heavily on my heart: the church and its people are struggling.

Jesus called us to be His disciples—to seek the one who is lost, to share the Good News, and to love the unlovable. Yet when many people look at the church today, they don’t always see that. They see judgment instead of grace, closed doors instead of open hearts, and an appearance of holiness instead of transformed lives. 

In many ways, we have become the very people Jesus confronted in Matthew 23. Like the Pharisees, we can become more concerned with appearances than authenticity. We look holy, act as though we are better than those around us, and proclaim a message that no longer sounds like good news. We become known for rules and regulations instead of the fruit of the Spirit. We have exchanged the joy of the Lord for religious performance. 

Somewhere along the way, we have lost our zeal. Or perhaps some of us never truly found it.

Where is the love? 

Where is the communion? 

Where is the genuine fellowship?

I’m not talking about scheduled check-ins, monthly dinners, or communion services on the calendar. I’m talking about sincere repentance and authentic love. I’m talking about the quiet communion that happens in the secret place, where it is just you and God. I’m talking about a deep compassion for the lost and a genuine love for the people in the community.

Instead of pretending we have it all together, we should be willing to share our failures, our sins, and our mistakes. I have been the “unlovable” person. I have struggled with pride and selfishness. I have hurt people, both intentionally and unintentionally. I have made terrible mistakes, and yes, I have even told those “little white lies” we so often try to excuse.

If people knew who I once was, they might be shocked. But somewhere along the way, I grew tired of living in cycles of brokenness. I wanted the pretending to end. I wanted the masks to come off. More than anything, I wanted Jesus to truly transform my life. 

In all honesty (and shockingly enough) I am still not perfect but, isn’t that the point? 

The Holy Spirit still convicts me. There are moments when He gently tugs at my heart and reminds me to surrender my pride, my thoughts, or my actions. Sometimes I listen and other times, I fail. But I know I am not the only one. 

What about others? Are they trapped in some of the same cycles? Are they hurting, while pretending to be okay? Do they lie awake at night overwhelmed by anxiety, trauma, or depression? 

Why are we, as the church, pretending that we have never sinned, never failed, or never made mistakes—big or small. Why do so many of us act as though we have never been in our deepest, darkest places? None of us are perfect. We cannot only polish the outside while pretending the inside is clean. Jesus has always cared more about the condition of the heart than the appearance of the person. 

So where is the fellowship? 

Where are the small group dinners filled with laughter, joy, and honest conversations? 

Where are the authentic friendships where people can share both the lowest valleys and the highest mountaintops without fear of condemnation? 

My challenge to you is simple: Be the Church.

Don’t settle for ritual. Don’t settle for habit. Don’t reduce your faith to another box checked on a Sunday morning.

Change the atmosphere—not only inside the church building but also in your home, your workplace, your neighborhood, and every place God has called you to be. Let people encounter Jesus through your life.

Resistance will come. People opposed Jesus, and they may oppose you too. But don’t give up. Don’t stop sharing. Don’t stop loving. Don’t stop caring.

Jesus gave us the greatest gift imaginable: love and forgiveness. He told us that the two greatest commandments are to love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love our neighbor as ourselves.

If we truly live those commandments, we can change what people think of the church—one heart, one home, and one person at a time.

Truthfully, I still have a long way to go. I am still healing, still growing, and still learning what it means to follow Christ every day. My relationship with Him is continually growing, and I pray it never stops.

I don’t write this because I have arrived. I write this because I know what it feels like to be broken, and I know what it feels like to experience the grace of God. I am simply someone who has been shown extraordinary grace and wants to extend that same grace to others.

Stacy Avatar

Published by

Categories:

Leave a comment