Who was that Masked Man?

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.  (1 Corinthians 13:12)

Grace to you and peace.

I carry a phone with me literally all the time, but rarely use it to make a call.  As a rule, I don’t like talking on the phone for the simple reason that I can’t see the other person’s face.  It can be difficult for me to understand who I’m talking to without seeing his or her expression.  Too often I misunderstand verbal cues (darned Asperger’s).  I need the visual along with the verbal.

We can easily mask our feelings on the phone.  I know this because I used to work in retail.  When you’re in retail you have to answer every call as if you’re excited that your day has just been interrupted.  You must be polite and cordial, even if the caller isn’t.  It’s easy to hide your true self over the phone.

For similar reasons, I don’t like masks:  I can’t read expressions.  I can’t tell if the emotion of the words matches the emotion on the face.

But, truth be told, we all wear masks at various times.  I’ve worn many different kinds of masks over the years.  I’m not sure there are many people who have truly seen me for who I am.

Sometimes, actually most of the time, I don’t see myself as I truly am.

My favorite writer, Herman Hesse, caught some of this feeling in his poem Misery:

My misery comes from my great talent
to wear too many masks too well.
I learned to deceive every one, myself included.
I became a master manipulator of my feelings.
No true song could reach my heart.
Behind each step I take lurks a shrewd scheme.

Many Christians thinkers over the millennia have written about the struggle between the false self and the true self.  I struggle on a daily basis to overcome my false self.

The false self is who you want others to see, or who you wish that you were.  The false self can be born out of feelings of low self-esteem, the feeling that the real you just isn’t good enough.  At least that’s true of me.  I go through life feeling like an imposter, certain that somebody will see through my disguise and then the game will be up.  I don’t write as elegantly as Hesse, but this poem sums up my feelings:

I live my life on full alert just
waiting to be found out and declared
a damned fraud (“you really are a weird
little pseudo-intellectual.”)

It is only a matter of time
until someone discovers that I
do not have an invitation, that
I stumbled in through the service door

and then I will be escorted out.
No wonder I jump at every
sound, weigh every possibility
and review every word choice and

conversation.  My only defense
is to throw myself on the mercy
of the celestial court.  And now
will the bailiff please read the verdict –

“Imposter!  How did you get in here?”

This is not the kind of life God wants us to live.

The true self is who God made you to be.  Even if you don’t see your own value, God does.  God made each of us as unique individuals.  We all have our quirks, our strengths, our gifts and our weaknesses.  These all make us who we are, who God intended us to be.  The true self is the child that God loves.  You are the beloved of God.  You, not some idealized version of who you think you should be.

One of the first things my spiritual director said to me was that I “need to claim the ‘Markness’ that God created” within me.  In other words, she was telling me to be myself.  Love yourself as God made you.  Drop the mask.  I’m still working on it.  Some days I’m more successful than others.

Diving deeply into prayer has helped tremendously.  In my case, the most helpful type of prayer has been contemplative prayer, where you go beyond words and images and just rest in God’s love.  It’s helped me become more accepting of myself and others.

What if we all took off our masks?  What if we saw one another clearly?  Would we be able to see the value in each of God’s imperfect children, ourselves included?  Would that lead us to be less divided and more tolerant?

There’s only one way to find out.  I’ll drop my mask if you drop yours.

Mark

(But, keep wearing those darned cloth masks until the pandemic’s over!)