Why You Should Always Turn The Speakers Off

When I was in elementary school, my dad used to take me to all his meetings because it was easier than finding a babysitter.  I don’t really remember many of them, mostly because I just sat in the other room and read or listened to Janet Jackson on my Walkman.  But there is one meeting that has stuck with me.  It was an annual church members meeting, and for better or worse, I overheard most of the meeting.  Spoiler alert: it was definitely for worse.

I was 9 years old, and when we got to the church, I went to the nursery to do homework and wait for the meeting to end.  The nursery had a speaker in it so that the Sunday morning volunteers could listen to the sermon while they changed diapers.  Unfortunately, no one had turned it off that week and it was too high on the wall for me to reach, so I was stuck listening to the meeting.  I tuned most of it out, until about 30 minutes in when the entire tone changed.

Up until this point it had been lighthearted business talk with a few terrible church jokes tossed in, at least that’s how my 9-year-old self interpreted it.  But things got awkwardly quiet as one of the Elders got up to speak.  He spent the next 20 minutes disclosing his personal struggle with and addiction to pornography.  He divulged secrets that I was too young to listen to.  The sound of his voice sheepishly uttering the word “sexoholic” made my stomach turn.  His wife spoke too.  She supported her husband’s confession and as they announced their decision to step down from church leadership, they were committed to overcoming the struggle together.

I am not sure how the church responded that night; I was too busy trying to figure out what some of the things he said meant.  I had not yet been exposed to a lot of what he said, and so while I got the gist of it, I was still a bit confused.  But regardless of how they responded that night, I know how they responded over time.

I can remember too many times over the next few years hearing adults in the church criticize him.  They were disgusted, embarrassed, angered, appalled, and a few other things, all over that one confession.  I never once heard someone respond with grace, love, compassion or encouragement.  Now to be fair, those more uplifting conversations may have happened; in fact, I am sure they did, at least with some people, but I never heard them.  Also, I am not sure exactly what happened in the end with regards to his ‘struggle,’ only that his confession opened up gates judgment.

That experience taught me one thing: if you confess your sin, people will hate you, if not to your face, certainly behind your back.  For an already insecure boy, this was a terrifying realization.  I was already a little bit afraid of owning up to my mistakes, but could usually muster the courage to spit it out.  After this, that changed.  When I ‘sinned’ (which to me became anything that anyone might be slightly offended by) I did everything in my power to hide it.  I would lie, blame, hide, cry, and do anything I had to in order to not be found guilty because I knew if I admitted my mistake, everyone would consider me a terrible lost cause and an unlovable mess.  As you can imagine, the long-term effects of this were devastating to say the least, but that is for another hundred posts.

By the grace of God I ended up marrying a woman who has taught me about forgiveness, love, and true identity, but not without having to endure some of the terrible side-affects of my insecurity.  I have also learned that grace is sort of a big deal to God, and goes a long way in overcoming insecurity and fear.  I still struggle with these things, and disclosure is still hard for me sometimes, but understanding grace helps.