Church Faces

The clothes in the drier were still damp, there wasn’t enough milk for both of her children to have cereal, and, because the car needed gas, they arrived late to church. Applying lipstick, she said to her disgruntled children:  “It’s time to put on our church faces.”

The notion would be funny, if it wasn’t so sad. The idea of putting on a church face goes against everything the church should be, but this family felt such faces were necessary. They aren't alone. In church, we speak of loving our neighbor, but it’s easier to offer that love to those whose church faces are in place. Coffee hour conversations go so much smoother when faces are on, marriages are glistening, and the children are on the honor role. (In fact, sometimes it’s also easier to love ourselves when we look at our church face and not the one we carry with us wherever we go.)

Of course, this has nothing to do with churches, and everything to do with faces . . .  Yours, and mine . . . The real ones and the fake.

Just ask the gay man who remains locked in a closet that looks like a business suit because he comes from a respectable family and lives in a part of the world where he will be judged.

Ask the woman whose credit card was declined after six months of unemployment when she tried to buy a new pair of shoes for a dinner with a college friend.

Ask the child who got a D on his social studies test when all his classmates were talking about how easy the test was.

Ask the priest who is well thought of everywhere in the community except his own home.

The “churches” come in all shapes and sizes, just like the faces we feel we need to wear. If there’s a hell, it’s wearing our “church faces” all day long. If there’s a heaven, it’s taking them off and showing the world who we truly are.

It seems we have a choice at to where we live our lives.