Unmasking a Thief

There is so much good in the worst of us, And so much bad in the best of us, That it hardly behooves any of us To talk about the rest of us.    

--Edward Wallis Hoch

So many stumble at the foot of the cross-- calvary, that ugly hill where our blessed Lord was crucified. It was an ugly place-- flies and other insect life feeding on the remains of human suffering, the blood, sweat and tears which went on there, pieces of flesh falling from the floggings.

This writer and world traveler brought home from every area of the world masks designed and worn by men. These included a mask from the Dogon tribes, in Mali, Africa-- probably the world's oldest civilization. I brought back masks from the highlands of New Guinnea, where, when I was there, the people were still cannibals. Several came from Sri Lanka and several from South America. I had these masks displayed in the large den of my home, along with a wide variety of animal skins-- such as that of a Zebra, which is still hanging here as I speak. I have sold most of these skins and masks.

Masks were used in early theatre and early warfare. It has been written in many books that it is very difficult to kill another warrior, when you are looking at him in the eyes. Right on through World War II, sharp bayonets were still used on the end of weapons. With the end of swords, daggers, and bayonets, warfare has totally changed-- as it has become very impersonal, tearing someone apart from a distance.

Until recently, female authors used male names: nom de plume. White actors put on black paint to become black-faced comedians: Al Jolson. With hair coloring, the magic of cosmetology (painting the face, lips, eyebrows-- even cosmetic surgery), women and some men could change their appearance. Most females, even old women, would not think of going out sans makeup. The male gets the genes for his hair from his mother: fullness, color, texture. This writer got his hair from his mother-- curly, turning white very young. Wanting to look young, I began to dye my hair. This caused a great rift in my family, but I did look younger. We might as well face it, we are all vain.

Every time I considered "checklist" Christianity (it is alright to do this, and not to do that), and "works" Christianity, the thought always hits me directly in the face, "WHAT ABOUT THE THIEF ON THE CROSS?" He was crucified next to our blessed Lord, hanging there totally naked, never admitting any good works, never denying any evil doings. Just before death he said, "Jesus, remember me when You come in Your kingdom!" (Luke 23:32) And without hesitation, never having been baptized, joining a church, as far as we know, never doing any good in this world, Jesus said, "I assure you, today you will be with me in paradise." (Luke 23:43)

Think of the royal official/ father who came to our blessed Lord, seeking His help for his sick son (John 4:43-54). There is no record that the royal official believed in God. He just believed in what he had heard about Jesus. He was a father with a sick and dying son, and Jesus, knowing the father-son relationship, healed the son, asking no questions.

This writer was raised in a home, church, denomination, and even community, where dancing, watching movies, cigarette smoking, and anything expensive or fattening was considered sinful. We knew nothing of the sower, sowing seed on hard ground, made all the usual pretentions that everyone-- particularly church members-- were genuine, not just pretending. It was easy to see that only a few went to church on Sunday night, to the prayer meeting on Wednesday night. Christianity was an 11-12, Sunday ritual. One hour during the week-- a cleansing-satisfying experience. The rest of the week, you lived like the rest of the world, including the unbelievers. It was hard to tell the difference. This writer, in pulpits, often asked the question, "If every church member were just like me, what kind of church would my church be?" And as frightening as it was, we knew the answer.

The politician, bureaucrat, banker, or even baker (one who bakes bread and pies), as my good mother often said, "finds the churchhouse a good place to hide their meanness." The pastor, wanting to love everyone, wanting to always turn the other cheek, needing the financial help of the more affluent, was always more interested in entertaining the goats than feeding the sheep, and here we are at the beginning of the 21st century, 2,000 years after the son of God gave Himself on Calvary for the sin of the world. But, on Calvary, and, other ways, showed us that He is in charge, that He is boss. One cannot read the constitution of the church, the book of Romans, without discovering-- as Paul had discovered-- that, as with Jacob and Esau, God does the choosing.

As it is written, Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated.

Romans 9:13

God designed each of us before the foundation of the world with different fingerprints, voices-- even the flecks in the iris of the eye. He designed us for himself. He does the choosing. We need Him more than he needs us. Take off any mask of pretending. He has the very hairs on your head numbered (Matthew 10:30). Every cell on your body contains everything about your ancestry. He loves you more than you love Him.