I’m tired. Tired of pretending.

There is a generally unspoken agreement between us Christians. We talk about the condition of sin, even admitting to the fact that we are broken and imperfect, but we limit these confessions to acceptable sins, like pride or envy or gossip, sins that are not so ugly to look at. Or we talk about our sin in the past tense. How awful we were before, as though we are not awful now.

There are exceptions, of course, like the guy I knew in college who admitted before an audience of thousands that he struggled with pornography. Or the mentor of mine who said that without Jesus he’d be right back in the worst place he’d ever been, doing the worst things he’d ever done, so great was his continuing need for salvation. But these are the exceptions, not the rule.

So I want to break the rule.

I have been accused by a couple of my readers in the past of hypocrisy, among other things, and in the wake of such accusations I have admitted that I am certainly not perfect, though such an admission is hardly confessional. Allow me to go a step further.

I lust. I do, all the time. It’s a struggle. I find myself envious of others’ things, their cars, their careers, their money. I am unyieldingly selfish. Really, you have no idea the capacity I have for seeking what I want. I am manipulative and passive aggressive. I lie more often than I care to admit, sometimes outright but more often in misleading words and deeds. I have stolen—never anything big, but I have taken things that were not mine knowing all along that I should not. I have hated, sometimes even in the name of righteous indignation, pretending that my anger was the product of a love for good things rather than the selfish and hateful act it really was.

And to top the whole list off, I am incredibly proud. I’m proud of my education, of my perseverance, of my calling, of my spiritual maturity (ha!), of my accomplishments, even proud of my humility. I am a real piece of work.

Why admit to all of this? Why tell this to the world?

Because there is only power in sin when we hide it. When the game persists, when we pretend that we have it all together and that we are better than others, we are bound to the rules of that game, keeping up these ridiculous pretenses at absurd costs. We cannot drop our guard. What would others think?

And it’s true, I have not aired my dirty laundry in full. As the mentor if mine that I mentioned earlier has also said, if you knew everything I’ve ever done you would give me no credibility. I am truly awful and I have done awful things. I still do awful things. And one day if it happens that I do something awful in front of someone, or if someone finds out about something awful I have struggled with all these years and they tell everyone, I don’t want to be that guy standing there with a plastic smile and fear in his eyes because I had most folks fooled and now they know.

Let the record show, I am a wretch.

Like David said, “I am poor and needy; may the Lord think of me. You are my help and my deliverer; O my God, do not delay,” (Psalm 40:17). And as Paul said, “…I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life,” (1 Timothy 1:16).

Let it never be said of me that I ever pretended to be beyond the need of Christ’s salvation. I am still weak, still needy, still fallen. If I do any good, it is Christ’s grace alive in me. I do not have my act together. Quite the opposite, I am a typical mess.

I think this is important to say because I want anyone who takes the time to read what I write, whether a Christian or an atheist, a cynic or a saint, to know that I would never want to leave you with the impression that I have things figured out or that I am even all grown up. I’m just lucky enough, blessed enough, to know the One who does have things figured out and I try to follow him, though I often fail in the execution.

This is my confession—my mess-filled, weak-faith, inconsistent, fallen life.

My name is Adam Martin and I am a world-class sinner. Good to meet you.

posted by adam on 11.13.2006 at 11:15 pm