Even if You Were Perfect, Someone Would Crucify You

You've faced it. If you have one of those Twitters or Facebooks, you've faced it. If you are reading this in the future, and Twitter and Facebook don't exist, you've still faced it. Whenever you future people picked out your first hover board or flying car, you faced it. If you own 1.21 gigawatts and use it to go back in time and have a copy of this book, you faced it on your MySpace page. If you are a pastor or a teacher, you've faced it. If you've ever cooked a meal for anyone other than yourself, you've faced it. If you've tried a new haircut, gone to public school, had a kid, visited a place where there is a different accent, worn a fanny pack, or shown someone your high school yearbook, then you've faced it. At some point in life, everyone has faced negative comments from people. When negativity hits you, it hurts like a mother.

The inspiration for this book came from a very hurtful place. I had preached a sermon on relationships, and someone didn't like it. In fact, this someone didn't like it so much he/she decided to write me an anonymous letter. I should have known that it was trouble, but I was actually excited to receive a real life letter. People don't write those any more. I mean it takes time to use ancient things such as pen and paper. Oh, and to send it, you need a stamp, so it costs something.

It didn't dawn on me that such glorious attention could be filled with negativity until I was well into the first paragraph. The letter was dripping with crazy. It said things about being thankful our local news media wasn't there to get coverage of the talk. The local media was never at our church. I don't know where the writer came up with that one. The person wrote that he could tell that everyone around him hated the talk as much as he did. It was four pages of abuse, but I couldn't stop reading it.

It didn't matter that I had received close to twenty emails from people telling me that God spoke to them. It didn't matter that my wife, parents, and church staff liked the talk. It didn't matter that I did my best, or that I said what I thought God was leading me to say. All that mattered was that some anonymous stranger didn't like my message. His insults consumed me.

On the fourth reading, I sensed a still small voice say to me, "Even if you preached a perfect sermon, someone would crucify it." I immediately balled up the letter and threw it away. I was allowing someone I didn't know to define me. I was allowing someone who didn't have the guts to confront me, to change the entire outcome of what had been a great day.

The truth is, it wasn't a perfect sermon. I'm not perfect. The truth is, even if it was the perfect sermon, someone would have found something wrong with it. The truth is, I was living to please people. What I learned is an ancient truth expressed well by John Lundgate, a fourteenth century monk. "You can please some of the people some of the time, some of the people all of the time, but you can never please all of the people all of the time." I can't please all people all the time, so I should instead live to please God.

This is my story. I'm a recovering people pleaser. One of my greatest addictions in life is having people say nice things about me. I love it. However, when something doesn't go my way, it brutally destroys my self worth. I'm thankful that God spoke louder than the voice in that anonymous letter.

A New Perspective

Since I heard that voice about crucifying sermons, I've adapted that phrase to multiple areas of my life. Even if you were perfect, someone would crucify you. This phrase helps me not to be defined by the opinions of others.

The only perfect person who ever lived is Jesus. He was without sin. Yet, humans found a way to have him brutally punished by one of the severest death penalties a government has ever issued. Man-kind crucified a perfect Savior, and we've been verbally crucifying people ever since. Whether it's crucifying ourselves because we don't live up to the way other people might see us, or it's having our hard work crucified because someone doesn't like it, we face verbal crucifixions on a regular basis. At the end of the day, we must conclude that we can't please all people all of the time.

We can only live our lives in a way that pleases God. Rick Warren once tweeted, "Even God can't please everyone. Only fools try to do what God can't." Ouch.

This book is for my fellow people pleasers. Maybe that's not you. If not, then please pass this book to someone who struggles with the pressure to please others. I wish that I didn't care so much about people's opinions. I wish I could be that guy who goes to the grocery store wearing a high school t-shirt, sweatpants, and a fanny pack. You know who I'm talking about? There seems to be one in every city. That joker doesn't care what others think. I am not that joker. I care. I also don't own a fanny pack.

This book isn't a self help book. It's about finding identity in Jesus. When we see ourselves as God sees us, we realize the truth: On our good days, we aren't as great as we think we are, and on our bad days, we aren't as pathetic. We are each in need of a Savior, redemption, and grace. This is my story, and I hope that through it you will be empowered to deflect verbal crucifixions. I hope that through this book you will find freedom in knowing: Even if you were perfect,someone would crucify you.

Identity Theft

I have a friend that I will call Ryan. I will call him Ryan because that's his name. Well, Ryan calls me one day in a panic. Someone had stolen Ryan's identity. We were supposed to hang out that night, but he didn't expect such a crisis. It was a mess. He was stressed like a new dad in a delivery room. His life was forever changed because someone had stolen his identity. I asked Ryan what this thief bought with the stolen identity. I expected to hear a long list of items like a new car, a cruise, gold plated Spanx, a unicorn, and a lifetime supply of Chick-fil-A. Mmmm ...Chick-fil-A! My expectations were destroyed when Ryan tells me that this thief purchased a credit score report and twelve of his fifteen dollars from an iTunes gift card. DO WHAT?! I couldn't help but laugh. Ryan was worked up over a credit score and a few bucks on iTunes. I'm not even sure that was identity theft. I think it was identity...