Bob's Blog

Shakespeare was right! “All the world’s a stage.” And that means that we’re all acting, all the time. And I hate it.

The older I get, the more I value authenticity. Perhaps its because sometimes it seems as though my job as a pastor forces me to constantly be in ‘performance’ mode. Perhaps its because I grew up in a family that was a little too concerned with ‘what other people think.’ Perhaps its because I tend to be a ‘people-pleaser.’ Whatever the reason, today, more and more, I’m attracted to people who are genuine – people who are comfortable in their own skin and not always trying to be something they’re not.

I went through high school always wondering if I was ‘normal’! Did other people think and feel all the things that I thought and felt? Why was I so serious? Why was I so passionate about so many things? Why was my heart so ‘soft’? Surely other people did not experience the same things I did. Something must be wrong with me.

Consequently, college was a time for me to reinvent myself. It was the perfect time for me to leave my past behind, and for the first time in my life become ‘normal’ . . . like everyone else. I began partying like there was no tomorrow. I joined a fraternity and went to my first (and only!) X-rated movie and strip club! And I started popping my polo shirt collar, wearing scrubs to my early morning classes, and dressing like some kind of preppy playboy. (I think one of my sons still has my navy blue pants with kelly green whales embroidered on them!)

But at some point during my junior year I began thinking, “This is not who I am!” I had all kinds of friends; but did they really know ME, or just some version of me that I was pretending to be? It was at this point in time when my faith was coming to life as well, and so it would be easy to assume that authenticity would become my new reality. But sadly, the faith community in which I found myself just forced me into another kind of mold – this one of purity and positivity, of saccharined-sweetness and syrupy-sentimentality, and most tragically, of cult-like passion and feigned courageous zeal. A theology of “confession is possession” ruled my heart and head, and as a result a different kind of performing became my norm. God had a plan. Just believe and stay faithful. Smile, praise God, and trust Jesus.

When I wasn’t speaking in tongues like others I knew and respected, I was told to just my move my lips and make whatever sounds came out; and when things I was told to believe things didn’t seem to make any make intellectual sense I was told ‘that’s why it’s called faith.’ Then I went to seminary where I was taught how to play the role of the professional religious elite; and after graduation, the institutional church taught me that the more and the better I ‘performed’, the higher the steeple I’d be able to attain. And so I continued to pretend.

We live in a performative culture: full of politicians willing to say whatever they think will get them reelected, and social media influencers willing to do whatever will gain them more followers. But am I really any different? Why do I so often feel so fake – like I’m not saying what I really want to say, or doing what I really want to do? Like artificial turf, plastic plants, and bulging Botoxed lips, I sometimes feel like I’m living my life in ways that are unreal, more concerned with how I’m being perceived, than whether or not I’m being genuine; more concerned with what other people want or expect from me, than what is healthy for me to be trying to give them.

Interestingly, the only place I’ve ever been able to really be me, is in the pulpit! Because I have way too many convictions, I’ve only ever been able to preach what I truly believe. I’m not very good at telling people what they want to hear, or professing a faith for which I lack conviction. Heck, I can’t even sing a hymn with words that I don’t believe! And this isn’t easy. I don’t like always being the prophet – saying the hard things, or that which I know is going to offend someone. But when it comes to the pulpit, I can’t go near it without being mindful that it is God’s. And so I don’t dare pretend or perform. I have not choice but to only speak what I believe to be of God, from the Spirit, and pointing us all to Jesus.

Now, if I could just bring that attitude to every other aspect of my life and ministry! Because if all the world’s a stage, I want to get off. I’m tired of pretending, and I don’t want to perform anymore. I just want to be me. And just as important I only want YOU, to be YOU! We ALL need to stop performing for one another. God created us to be exactly who we are, and it is nothing less than arrogant for us to think that we know better who we need to be. No offense, but I trust God a little more than I trust you . . . and most definitely more than I trust me! God knew what the world needed when each of us was created, and so why would we continue to think we know more than God – more about what the world needs from us, more about what the world needs to see in us, more about what the world needs us to be?

Performing is exhausting! Trust me. I know from experience. And if you’re honest, you know it too! So let’s just stop. Let’s all do it together. Let’s be real. Let’s be who we were created to be. Because the world has enough performers. What it needs is us . . . you and me . . . just as we are.