I used to think that Christians were like elite athletes in that they were superior than everyone else at something, namely being good. And that if my neighbors wanted to see proof of Christianity, then all they had to do was look at my life and see superior goodness there. Ha!
My view is changing. First, because I know for a fact that I have issues. Second, because I have some really considerate neighbors that I'm pretty sure I'll never look morally superior to. Third, I've been seeing how the Christian life is less and less about how I appear to others, and more and more about what God is doing inside me.
It's like this. We're like homes with messy closets stuffed full of things like empty pizza boxes and white elephant gifts and outgrown clothes and Great Aunt Gertrude's travel albums—stuff we don't know what to do with. However, to appear presentable to our friends and to get on with our lives, we've slammed the door shut on that closet and locked it.
In the meantime, roaches and rats have moved in. Perhaps that's what finally drove us to the Lord, the Master Closet Cleaner, who's now helping us sort through that stuff. This means, God has moved in to our homes and has opened that closet. All the moldy food containers and rats' nests and stinky socks have fallen out into the hallway. Our homes look a mess now as God sorts through the trash, tossing what we don't need and restoring things that belong in our living rooms.
If any of our neighbors takes a close look at us, they'll think our home looks messier than the average Joe's, but that's because God's in the process of turning our lives inside-out. We're done hiding and pretending that we're actually pretty good on our own. All our inadequacies are coming into the light and being remade.
That's how I'd like to describe the Christian life now. We live in the light, no longer hiding our sin because we know God is going to sort it out in his perfect timing. The rest of the world might look better than us, but their closets have no hope of redemption, and in fact, they have this lurking fear that when life is over, they'll have to come face to face with what's behind that closed door. Why wouldn't we want to tell them about the Master Closet Cleaner?
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