Note: This post is the continuation of a series, which began with the installment: The Problem with Patriarchy Part 1: Our Road to Damascus. If you have just come across this site or this post, it might be a good idea to start with Part 1. Each installment (hopefully) builds on the foundation laid in the previous entries. Thanks for reading!
When I began planning this series of posts on women’s role in ministry, the layout was pretty clear. Begin with a discussion on patriarchy and then jump into various essays reflecting on key Bible passages while offering some thoughts on how they might be viewed or misunderstood. But, having traveled a lot of ground since I first wrote these thoughts down on paper…well, life has a way of working on you. What I mean is I’ve come to see these ideas and thoughts in a much bigger way. I think the process of coming to grips of whether or not a woman could serve as a deacon or pastor of a church provided a window of sorts into how I might understand my life in the context of relationships and some own personal struggles. It gave me some new insights of how relationships can become so twisted and even toxic, but also a picture of what they could be/should be and perhaps even what God intended them to be. Sounds a little complex, I know. I’m not sure I have the capacity to tie all these things together, but I plan to try.
With that said, it’s best if I just start here…
Because there’s a part of me which wants to be really open about how messy my life has sometimes been. I think that’s because I finally realize I’ve been wearing a mask most of my life and I don’t like it. The mask is the side of me I show to most of the world hoping they’ll think I have it all together. I want people to think I’m strong, smart, funny, easy to get along with, carefree, or whatever. Could we say “successful”? I realize now I created the mask in my childhood. It was how I learned to survive. Bury your problems, smile (and I smile a lot, which is likely more habitual than honest) through a veil of self-deprecating humor while learning the art of escape to get by. Honestly, it hasn’t helped me one bit and for a long time, I didn’t even know the mask was there.
There’s a big cost to this way of living, I think. Nobody really gets to know you and it’s a lonely place. It leaves you open to problems like despair, addiction, self-loathing…you name it. You never grow up (in the sense of wisdom, I believe). And even worse, you don’t learn the beauty and joy of intimacy. Not the physical kind. I’m talking about the deep in the heart, completely naked in an emotional and spiritual sense, no secrets, no hiding, all out in the open – this is who I am – sense. That’s what I’m talking about. To my defense, I think this type of living is rare. And yet, I’m realizing that living in this open and honest way allows you to experience what the Bible describes as peace. No worries. No hiding. No chasing. No second guessing. No mask. No putting on “a front.” Just me. What you see is what you get.
As I approach my fiftieth birthday, I have to tell you this superficial, pretend you’re somebody else, “I’ve got it all together and I’m really smart to boot” way of living sucks. Life goes by lost in the superficial and shallow exchanges, like: “how are you?”…”Oh, I’m good. And you.”…”Great”…”Great.” I mean what is all that other than insincerity wrapped up as politeness. Ok, I should back up a little and say it’s good to be polite, especially with people who are just acquaintances. But, perhaps this whole scene is a microcosm for our lives. Hide the pain, the uncertainty, the fear, the questions and just pretend you have it all together. “Smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave.” (What a great scene from MadagascarJ… and if I am going to remove the mask, I should admit to you I really like that movie).
At some point I began to realize the definition of relationships in my world became so muddy and confused I could only see two options. You either submit and serve as a good little boy (like a people pleaser) or you find your place of power and control (the big shot). And I have to tell you, this realization hit me like a freight train. It began when I discovered my relationship with God was essentially defined by the things I could do for God, which would make me worthy of God’s love and respect – those things that could essentially compensate or make up for all my sins. And then, it culminated with the recognition that any sense of equality with another person was extremely rare or non-existent. As I write this I shake my head because for most of my life, I had no idea.
For instance, it finally dawned on me I had the hardest time telling people no. The result was I would allow my plate to become so loaded up it would reach a point of crisis leaving me stressed out and on the verge of a meltdown. Something had to give. I could escape in some unhealthy way or shortchange my family, which was usually in the emotional sense if not always physical. Looking back, I felt like I was this puppy dog following anyone or anything that would give me the time, attention and affirmation I desperately needed prop up my fragile ego.
And on that last point, I don’t think you can live life like a puppy dog all the time. In some part of this broken world, you need to find a sense of self-worth in yourself or something snaps. Life becomes a burden because it’s so easy to become resentful when you feel like you’re always trying to make someone happy. Sooner or later, the affirmation you receive needs to be based on more than what you do to please others. Eventually, it needs to be about who you are. I hope this makes sense.
And here’s the other crazy thing. When you live this way, things can get so twisted if you are always on the lookout for something to prop up your ego. Sometimes (well, many times), the most innocent of remarks spoken to me could be perceived as a slight. I have to admit I watch body language like a hawk. I used to think it was gift; but anymore, I believe it’s an unhealthy habit I developed when I was young. My natural tendency was to be suspicious of any complement I received for anything I did. I knew deep down the compliment or praise had to be insincere. There’s no way I could deserve anyone’s praise. But, as I’ve said, I needed that praise and so my interior life began to look something like this. “Let me try to impress you so you will like me and say nice things about me…but then again, you don’t know me and if you did, you would never say those nice things about me…but, say those nice things anyways…please?” It’s a vicious cycle.
Just recently, I was working with a gentleman on a project; and for some reason, we got into a pretty honest conversation about life and relationships. He said something that struck me for its candor, especially since his audience (me) was little more than a stranger. What he talked about was how it was so easy to speak insensitively to his wife and kids; and yet, in contrast, he could be so thoughtful and respectful to acquaintances or complete strangers. I knew what he was talking about. Immediately, I felt like I was in this group therapy session, holding up my hand and saying: “Me, too. Been there. Done that. Bought the t-shirt.” As I reflected more on our conversation, I saw myself being dismissive to my wife and others as if the thoughts and perspectives of those closest to me were less informed, less thought out…you might say, less valuable. I hate admitting that. It sounds horrible, but it’s true. If you’ve never known equality in relationships; though, it’s the most natural thing to do. After all, at some point even a people pleaser needs a break. I don’t think anyone can be on the bottom all the time and you have to find the space and circumstances to turn it off for a bit.
To be fair, I believe I was born with a compassionate heart, which probably made it easy to slide into the role of people pleaser. But, like most of us, the person God created me to be got buried under a pile of crap and my strengths and qualities as an individual got used up putting on a show in order to compensate for the insecurities developed during my childhood. Life is tough. And so often, we find ourselves surrounded by a bunch of great people; and yet, we feel all alone because our true selves get lost behind a mask and we deal with the isolation in so many crazy ways. Loneliness leads to all kinds of damaging places.
So, what I am learning as I begin to face the second half of my life is that healing can only come through equality. It’s this realization my relationships cannot be about being in a position of power or complete submission. Both are equally destructive. I cannot be on top but neither can I be on the bottom and neither can those with whom I have relationships. I must walk along side by side with anyone and everyone, but especially – and I mean unequivocally – with those that are closest to me. That’s the mission. And, I say this because with those we are closest to…well it’s easy to fall into old habits and former ways. It’s all I’ve ever known. I need and I ask for patience, but I also need and ask for accountability. We learn from each other and we grow together. But, only from a place of equal value. Side by side.