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Who Really Needs to Come Out of the Closet?
By Thom Hunter 
http://thom-signsofastruggle.blogspot.com/
I stumbled, fell and cried out but my brother shied awayAnd I found myself alone in silence, wishing he would stay.He quickly turned the corner, as if he hadn't realized,I'd turned and looked to him in pain, with pleading tear-filled eyes.I saw my brother stumble so I quickly looked away.I'll ask him how he's doing on perhaps a better day.I heard my brother crying but I quickly realizedHe'd not be wanting me to see the tears that filled his eyes.So we're just keeping distance till again it all seems rightAnd saying a little prayer or two before turning in at night.No reason now to get involved, there's nothing much to sayBoth blind; both fine; both better off this way.-- Thom Hunter 
Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. --Galatians 6:2 
 
"Imagine, if you will," comes the Rod Serling voice, "A church in the middle of a veryordinary town, with stained glass windows, cushioned pews and friendly faces at thedoor. We've arrived on a very ordinary Wednesday night, just in time for the pre-prayer-service meal. Elaine sits in her usual place in the middle of a long table, inthe middle of the fellowship hall . . . in the middle of it all.""Did you hear about . . . . ?" said Elaine, her voice trailing off a bit as she lowers it,looks side-to-side, and begins to share the news with those in hearing range. Her fork is poised in the air over a plate of ham, sweet-potatoes, peas and carrots and abuttered piece of bread. Elaine is one of the best of the best when it comes tochurch gossip and ears quickly bend her way."Elaine, you're just like a dog returning to its vomit, I see," says the pastor in a calmand steady voice as he approaches her table.Elaine stops, puts down her fork, squirms in her seat a bit, gathers her plate andpurse and moves on down to another table."Well . . . I never!" she says. "Did you hear what he said to me? You will never believe."Again, the voice interrupts: "Elaine, you gossip because you think it is fun, but you're just like a dog returning to its vomit."Elaine, now in shock, sits, ponders, sets her fork gently down beside her plate andsays "You're right, Pastor. I confess to the sin of gossip and I ask for your forgiveness and help in repentance.""Sorry, Elaine," he answers. "This has gone on too long. You've confessed beforeand here you are, at it again. I don't think it is possible for you to ever stopgossiping. And, while I say this completely out of love for you, I think it's best for allof us if you just leave and not come back. We'll vote on it Sunday night, but basically,I think the tribe has spoken."So Elaine puts out her torch, which means in this case, stifles her tongue, and leavesimmediately. Life goes on, post-Elaine.Obviously, this is a greatly-exaggerated account. Sin is more subtle; response morenuanced. The Elaines among us are not that blatant in their sin; the pastors not thatdirect in dealing with it; the church members not that silent an audience. But, in reallife, there is a great deal of confusion about how to deal with sin among thebelievers, particularly when the sin seems to have so firm a grip and especially whenthat sin is something that we can not easily dissect or dig down to the root cause.
 
We see it flourish and, like a weed among the flowers, we want to pluck it out.Of course the pastor does not intervene and Elaine is not removed. She finishes her pie and her story with a flourish, confident that her words will be repeated by others,giving her a sense of belonging she can't seem to find any other way. She keeps ontop of all the latest because she needs to be needed and knows no other way. Her sin is gossip; her fear is loneliness. We should start with her fear.Andy gets antsy about halfway through the prayer meeting, looks at his watch andyawns. The pastor noticed Andy was pretty bleary-eyed already when he came intothe church, but Andy just explained that he'd been glued to his computer allafternoon, trying to get a big project done. Andy was anxious to get home and finishthe project in his home office: feasting on XXX pornography over the Internet.Like a dog returning to its vomit? Perhaps. Extending a season of fun? Maybe.More likely feeding a secret addiction that has wrapped itself so tightly around Andythat most of life has now been squeezed from him and he is bound to meaninglessimages and fantasies that strip him of any dignity and slowly drain from him all thesensitivity he once had toward his wife and children.Lindsey is 17. As usual, she has worn her favorite long-sleeved turtle-neck pull-over to church and sits in a silent, pouty position at the far end of a back-of-the-room pew.She is listening in, but looking down as she rubs her arms and twists her hands,fighting back tears, but smiling weakly whenever she's approached."Are you okay, honey?" a sweet voice asks."I'm fine," she answers, mustering her familiar weak smile, her bangs hanging over her dark eyes."Well, of course you are, sweetheart," comes the reply. "And God loves you just theway you are."Lindsey will cut herself in the bathroom when she gets back home, inflicting another physical scar for the pain she feels inside and can't reveal. And then she'll give her mom and dad a peck on the cheek and lay in bed wishing for sleep, longing for peace.Terrance skipped church altogether on this Wednesday night and is walking alongthe trails of the city park a few blocks from his home as the sun slowly dips behindthe trees. He collapses on a wooden bench and puts his head in his folded arm,looking every bit the part of a breathless runner who has pushed himself to the limitand needs to rest. He
is
at his limit. He hates himself because he is not like the
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Totaf

a MUST read! Thank you Thomas,keep it up, hopefully 'some seed will fall on good soil, where it will produce a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.' Shalom friend.

reply11 / 02 / 2010
Thomasthefree

Thank you, Totaf! I pray that you are right and that the harvest is heavy.

11 / 02 / 2010
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