By Dany Hernandez

The older I get, the less I know. I’m learning to live with this tension in my life. I don’t like it, but I have to embrace the fact that I’ve been wrong many times in my life, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be wrong many more times. But this is not about right or wrong. This is about not pretending. This is about being comfortable enough with who I am, with who we are as a church to maybe admit we’re flawed. This is about looking at ourselves in the mirror and admitting there are times when we might be wrong and owning it. Some of you reading this will agree with the previous statement, while others of you will push back, perhaps with some anger and resentment at me for suggesting such a thing.

Let me ask you not to take this personally, or as an attack on our dear church. After all, we all want something better, more effective, and more world-changing from our congregations around the globe. But there’s a problem from my perspective.

We’re really not that real.

In 1991, Canon USA came out with an ad campaign featuring an up and coming professional tennis player named Andre Agassi. Flashing his outlandish outfits and bleached long hair, he would remove his sunglasses, stare into the camera and proclaim, “Image is everything!”

That same year I began pastoring my first church in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. On Friday nights, we would hang out at the beach and provide food and basic necessities to a group of homeless individuals. The following morning, we would pick up any who wanted to attend church and take them to spend the day with us. Soon there was some rumbling among our dear church members.

“Pastor,” they said, “do you know some of them are going outside to our parking lot and smoking before the church service? What will our neighbors think?”

I became keenly aware that for a lot of us, image is everything. And, because image is so important, we created a culture where pretending is better than truth, and image more valued than reality. Why do small groups have such a challenge becoming part of the culture in our Adventist churches? Because a small group requires vulnerability, honesty, and authenticity. Reader’s Digest recounts the story of a bishop who had just had a cup of tea with a parishioner and commented, “I’m glad to see in what a comfortable way you are living.” The churchgoer replied, “Oh, bishop, if you want to know how we really live, you need to come when you’re not here.”

Can We Be Trusted?

One Thousand Gifts author Ann Voskamp recently posted on her blog: “I have felt it—how no one wants anything of anyone but to be honest and real and to trust enough to take off the mask.”

Here’s part of the challenge. To you, these examples might not seem like a big deal, but to me they speak of the lack of authenticity we sometimes display to others. How many times do we plan a cooking school for our community as a means of getting “names” and getting them comfortable with the church before we invite them to an evangelistic meeting? We’ve talked ourselves into believing we are really doing it to help our neighbors live healthier lives and be- cause we love them enough to want them in heaven. And what’s wrong with that? Maybe nothing—but maybe every- thing. How many times do we launch a series of meetings in a conference room of a hotel and keep the fact we’re Adventists hidden as long as possible before the big reveal? Think about it . . . we call it strategy. Let’s not tell them we’re Adventists until Week 4. We gather and pray that God will impress the minds of the people who have been attending the meeting for three weeks as we finally tell them the truth about who we are. We’ve grown up in a culture where we’ve normalized a lack of transparency. So many times, we pretend not to be something in order to lead people to become the thing we’re pretending not to be.

And one of my favorites—friendship evangelism. Really? Why don’t we just stop at “friendship?” You know why? Because we really don’t know how to do something without strings attached. Because no matter how great your intentions, if you’re not honest about who you are and what your motives are, then you are no better than a used car salesman detailing the outside of a car while rust eats the vehicle away from the inside. At some point, you’ll realize that what you purchased, what you bought into, is not really what was presented.

Would it be so wrong to become friends just to be friends? Would it be so horrible to help people live healthier lives so they can be healthier? But what about the Great Commission? We’ve bought into the idea that God needs our assistance by not being transparent and authentic in our motives. We believe that only with better strategy and slick marketing can God work in the hearts of people. How arrogant of us. How about we love people because they deserve to be loved?

One of the most impactful things that theologian John Stott ever said was this: “When our good deeds are motivated by evangelism, our philanthropy reeks of hypocrisy.” So, on the one hand we say, “We care about you” but the ultimate message is, “But only if you become one of us.” How many people did Jesus feed, heal, and comfort who never became His followers? We have no clue, and I suggest that Jesus didn’t keep track either. The good things from Jesus extended from a heart of compassion, not from a desire to convert individuals to a specific belief system.

Be Cold, or Be Hot

What if the message to Laodicea is a call to authenticity? Maybe it’s the same message Amos preached centuries before: “I’m tired of your fundraising schemes and your fancy mission and vision statements. I’m tired of your songs and sacrifices. . . . You know what I want? You know what I really want?” says the Lord. I want oceans of justice and rivers of righteousness.” Maybe the message to us is, “Quit faking it. . . . Be cold, or be hot, just don’t pretend. Don’t play it safe. Be truthful about your motives, be honest about your struggles, be real about your doubts.” Because there’s nothing more offensive than pretending, nothing worse than a lack of authenticity.

The transparency and authenticity of Paul is honestly quite refreshing in a Christian and/or secular culture that longs to elevate its own voice and brand to position ourselves for success. When was the last time you heard from an “expert” or pastor these words: “I came to you in weakness, in fear, and in much trembling” (1 Corinthians 2:3)? Imagine your pastor standing in front of your congregation and stating those words. Think of the words of King Jehoshaphat when he said, “I don’t know what to do.” What made him a great and humble king perhaps is summarized in those few words. Yet this very sentiment is what our hearts long for and, in fact, what secular culture longs for: authenticity.

The Apostle Paul summarizes the biblically authentic life we all need to model.

“Not that I have already reached the goal or am already perfect, but I make every effort to take hold of it because I also have been taken hold of by Christ Jesus. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and reaching for- ward to what is ahead, I pursue as my goal the prize promised by God’s heavenly call in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:12).

Go and live authentic, imperfect, messy lives before a broken, imperfect, and messy world so that others may see Jesus redeem and transform you into His image.

–Dany Hernandez is lead chaplain at Littleton Adventist Hospital. Email him at: [email protected]