The Hard Truth about Christian Hypocrisy and the Church

In case you haven't noticed, some Christians are hypocrites. If you think that's bad, just wait. It gets worse. It's not just that it's some Christians, it's all Christians.

We are ALL hypocrites.

There's a woman whom I admire that lived ages ago. I don’t have all the details, but her story is like this: She had quite the 'reputation' around town - I assume this means she was a prostitute.  Outcast. Dirty. Shamed. All covering the fact that she was actually quite beautiful.

She had heard rumors about a man named Jesus who was teaching around town. People were saying he could heal the sick. Something stirred in her. She had to meet him.

One night she received information that Jesus was eating dinner with a bunch of hoity-toity religious scholars (called Pharisees) at a guy name Simon’s house. She couldn't wait any longer. She felt desperate.

She grabbed her bottle of cheap perfume (the kind she wore when trying to impress her clients) and made the long walk to Simon's home. She burst inside the house and ran to Jesus. She started kissing his dusty feet, and even though she wanted to wash them - a custom to show honor and humility - she didn’t have the supplies. So she used what she had to wash his feet:

Her tears and long beautiful hair.

The Pharisees gasped in disgust. Then, predictably (because He did this often), Jesus told them a short hypothetical story as the woman continued weeping at his feet. Two men had debts; one’s was large and the other’s was small. Jesus asked the Pharisees who would be most grateful if the debtor wiped the debts away. They of course answered the person with the largest debt.

Yes, indeed. Then Jesus explained how this woman, still kissing His feet and weeping, showed Him more love and gratitude than they did that night. He then spoke to the woman. His words brought freedom and hope. "You're forgiven. Your faith has saved you; go in peace." (Luke 7:36-50)

So let me ask: Do you think she stopped selling her body after this run-in with Jesus?

Do you think she found a respectable job despite her reputation? Our inclination for fairy-tale endings may lead us astray.

I think she kept sinning. Not because the Bible told me so but

because I'm like her.

I have filth. I have pride. But then I have encounters with Jesus that wreck me… and then life. Life happens. I become distracted. I love money and the way it feels validating. I like self-sufficiency so I can boast about what I've earned and 'deserve'. I worry about being unlovable or not belonging so I act in defensiveness and fear - which looks a lot like judgement.

This is the church.

We fail and make mistakes (sometimes big ones), and run desperate to the feet of Jesus in our humility. We walk away changed by His love and grace only to be consumed once again by the distractions and temptations of the world.

We compartmentalize. We justify. We numb. We pretend. We feel shame. Just like the rest of the world.

The difference is, we know better.

We've encountered His love - and you'd think that His love would be enough to change us forever if it's as good as we say it is (it is). But we're still here, on earth, clawing our way through greed and selfishness and pride in effort to give Him what He deserves: our whole selves.

Some of us in the church may try harder than others. Some of us are less mature. Some of us have wrong motives. Some of us carry faith like a weapon because we've never truly encountered God's grace or we've quickly forgotten because… life.  

Don't get me wrong.

I am not making excuses for the church.

Explaining our humanity in no way invalidates the pain you've experienced by Christians. From the bottom of my heart, friends, I'm sorry for pain afflicted to you by my tribe. (In all honestly, this 'tribe' so wildly varies on theology and practice it's hard to even call it one name; church). I understand no apologies on this small blog will be enough.

In the words of a cherished old hymn: "Prone to wander, Lord I feel it. Prone to leave this God I love.' This was sung in thousands of churches by thousands of Christians because we have all felt it.

And when we fail Him, we fail each other.

Just yesterday, the most-followed person on Instagram, Selena Gomez, posted Romans 7:15: "I don't really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don't do it. Instead, I do what I hate."

We want to be better but we fail. And then there are times that perceptions of us fail.

Our focus to follow His rules, in attempts to honor Him, can seem like judgment on others.

We think behaviors matter - that we should practice what we preach. If we believe the Bible, we should live by ‘the rules’ that God say honor Him (and we believe they’re in our best interest to follow too). However, obedience to rules is just legalism (something Jesus despised) unless there’s heart behind it. Only genuine faith, in response to God's love, develops a heart to obey. That's what matters. So church, let's focus less on behavior and more on the root of it all: people’s hearts.

I think the church’s mission is quite simple: help others encounter Jesus.

Many of you have probably encountered genuine jerks that really do judge out of a position of faith, but from where I stand, this is not the norm, at least not in my church.

When we think the Bible reveals God’s original intent for our gender or relationships, it can look like intolerance.

This one is especially painful for me personally. I love many people who are LGBTQ and they are hurt by me, not because I’m mean-spirited, but simply because I believe their actions are immoral (according to the Bible – but even then, I understand that’s interpreted differently even among Christians).

But when it comes to deciding the government’s role in upholding values embraced by the church- we’re admittedly a confused bunch. Do we vote based on Biblical ideologies or do we believe the government’s role is not to mandate our moral code on unbelievers? Many of you have probably encountered genuine intolerant persons of faith, but from where I stand, this is not the norm, at least not in my church. 

Our human nature to congregate with similar-minded people looks a lot like exclusion.

Recently I felt compelled to ask people of color about their experiences with law enforcement in efforts to understand (not debate). I looked around my friend group: none. I looked around my church: none. I resorted to my Uber driver on a work trip - literally the only person of color I encountered that week. (It was a great conversation, by the way.)

Exclusion is not always intended – I don’t intend to mingle with all white people. But in all honesty, I migrate towards people like me socially, economically and spiritually.

I'm genuinely sorry if you've felt excluded because of your sexual orientation, color of skin, economic class, marital status (divorced or single), or political views. 

Many of you have probably experienced feeling excluded from the church, but from where I stand, this is not intentional. And we, the church, should get better at this.

If I still have your attention, one final thought:

The church is my sanctuary.  

It’s my safe place where I don’t have to pretend to have it all together.

It’s where my most-trustworthy most-compassionate friends are.

It’s where I hear good teaching that challenges me to keep at it.

It’s where I find ways to serve and give to the needs in my community and in the world.

It is a place where my children feel safe and loved by other adults.

(It was actually my 3-year-old who reminded me yesterday morning, after her Sunday school lesson, of the “woman with no chair that washed Jesus’ feet! Gross!”)

I’d be lost without my church. And while I know that not all of you have had such a positive experience, I hope you know that good churches do exist. They may not be perfect but many are truly good.

Like the courageous prostitute, we may be prone to wander (to be hypocrites) but that doesn’t mean many of us aren’t sincerely trying.

If anything, I pray that our failures (that displease God and hurt you) reveal just how astounding His grace and love is:

that He would still call us His beloved children and take us back every. dang. time.

*I don’t speak for every church, our denomination, or even for my church. But I do believe these thoughts are shared by many (hundreds) of my faith-sharing friends and we simply don’t know how to share them. I hope this helps the conversation...