“Quit your worship charades. I can’t stand your trivial religious games: Monthly conferences, weekly Sabbaths, special meetings—meetings, meetings, meetings—I can’t stand one more! Meetings for this, meetings for that. I hate them! You’ve worn me out! I’m sick of your religion, religion, religion, while you go right on sinning. When you put on your next prayer-performance, I’ll be looking the other way. No matter how long or loud or often you pray, I’ll not be listening. And do you know why? Because you’ve been tearing people to pieces, and your hands are bloody. Go home and wash up. Clean up your act. Sweep your lives clean of your evildoings so I don’t have to look at them any longer. Say no to wrong. Learn to do good. Work for justice. Help the down-and-out. Stand up for the homeless. Go to bat for the defenseless. Isaiah 1:13-17 (The Message)
When I take those personality tests, the ones that determine if you are an introvert or extrovert, calm or excitable, or as Myers-Briggs outlines: Meditative/Thoughtful, Spontaneous, Executive, and Social, they always show that I am a mixed bag. Basically, I’m a librarian concealed in an actress’ body (and not a skinny Minnie actress’ body either). Recently, while serving on two committees, one for work and one for church, I’ve attended many meetings with some very important people. I sit there very quietly as my gut tells me “keep your head low, don’t make eye contact,” but my hands and mouth won’t obey. It’s as if this struggle goes on inside of me with one person tugging at my pants leg to pull me back down in my seat while the other slaps at the hand that would keep me there. My legs straighten and stand as my lips quiver in anticipation of being able to speak. A long time ago in my career, I made the temporary switch from running a historical park and its special events and programs to being a researcher in our historical records library. Someone, who I didn’t think knew me well, surprised me when he said, “Oh, you will be so much happier in the library.” How could he have seen that librarian hiding inside of me? The one overshadowed by the confident easy actress faking her way through her job? I was happier for a time, but that did not last long before I was seeking the limelight again. Just when I think I am content with my books and papers, an opportunity to teach or make a speech slides its way onto my calendar. I go with dread, fearful this will be the time I will make a fool of myself, but leave excited by that spark of connection when I make an impact and see my words go beyond just hearing and get into someone’s heart. How can one person be such a dichotomy? Twice today, the actress let loose before the librarian could rein her in. I stood up once to speak against an injustice, a slight that could not be ignored. Another time, I railed against complacency and an unwillingness to serve when belief called for action. It struck me as funny, this schizophrenia of mine, as the librarian inside me quaked at the force of the actress’ words when she criticized the other “librarian types” for their inaction. What motivates someone like me who could be content to hide in the corner, at least for a time, to be unable to sit quietly any longer? God tells us it is not the meetings we attend or the number of times we show up at church. It is not the pious attention getting prayers that we pray that He is pleased with, but when we “Say no to wrong. Learn to do good. Work for justice. Help the down-and-out. Stand up for the homeless. Go to bat for the defenseless.”
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