Last week in our study of Psalm 13 we considered the brutal honesty in which the psalmist approached God. We followed up our study with discussion centering around the question: "Do you feel under pressure to always be happy and upbeat at church? Why or why not?"

In a recent seminary forum I was asked the same question. Here is my response:

Man, do I ever feel under pressure to always be happy and upbeat at church! Just last week, a parishioner stopped me in the hallway and asked me (among other questions) if I was content. Trying to be honest, I said, "Sometimes I am. Sometimes I'm not." She was offended and replied, "Well, I'm always content. I know that God has a plan for my life." Understandably, the conversation "tanked" at that point!

As a Pastor, I am generally not allowed to be honest about my experience of God and life. In the pulpit, if I express doubts or difficulties, people applaud me and consider me to be "transparent." But once I ascend down the stairs from the pulpit, I'm expected to be SuperChristian--having all the answers, always happy, always content, and always victorious. It is draining way to live. I completely understand why some buckle under the pressure or give in to immorality. When you are forced to partially live a lie around the people you love, it is just one small step to going all the way into moral infidelity--living a total lie.

Another example: The sermon I've received more complaints about than any other is a sermon I did three years ago on Psalm 88--the Psalm that ends with "darkness is my only companion." After the message, I had one parent come up to me with her teenage daughter and tell me that my message was the stupidest message she had ever heard and that her daughter thought it was completely irrelevant. Strangely, her daughter was in clear rebellion and was plainly miserable in her own life and yet didn't see any connection from Psalm 88 to her "real life." Also, the mother has since left her husband and apostatized from the faith (although there are small signs she may be repenting).

I don't mean to sound cynical or hopeless (I am far from that). I just hope to show two clear examples that people generally want their religion to be happy, comforting, and stable. Complete honesty before God seems to be in short supply. Indeed, I find this pattern even in my own life. I would rather play the game, run through the routines, than truly meet with the living God. Vulnerability hurts and honesty is painful, but both are necessary if one is to truly bare one's soul before God--and others. Real relationships cannot be built any other way!

  © Richard J. Vincent, July 21, 2002