Back in college, I had a circle of friends where we would just razz each other constantly. Sarcasm, jokes at each others' expense - all the time, every day. And we would act like we enjoyed it - like it didn't matter if I got burned, because I was going to get him worse later on, just see.

Funny enough, we were also the ones sitting in the front row of chapel, just waiting for each preacher to tell us what sinners we were. Often disappointed, every once in a while someone would come through and tell the student body off. When that happened, we felt... happy? Satisfied?

I mean, it happened when a speaker said something we wish we could have said ourselves, but we didn't have the platform. We felt like we knew what was wrong with the way Jesus was being followed on campus - we had it right, and if people would just listen to us, they could too. We could say "Look at us! We're not afraid to call out our sins! We're much better than those churches that don't take sin seriously."

But it runs deeper than a desire to be heard, and the belief that we were wise and right. We were most satisfied when people said things that should make us unhappy. The boost to our self-projected facade was worth the price for a while, because most of us already felt less-than anyway.

We couldn't be honest with each other about our complete Christian experience, with its wounds, weaknesses, anxiety, and more. We couldn't, because that didn't match the ideal we were trying to attain - to admit it would be to admit that we were indeed less-than, just like we felt. That wasn't an option - we couldn't be one of the faithful few then.

So we settled on a pattern of listening to hard preaching. It was comfortable for us because it matched what we felt of ourselves. And no one could say, "That sermon isn't talking about me!" At least, not without sounding prideful, and pride is a sin, and so it goes. So it matched our self-expectation, but didn't involve the dire social consequences we imagined for ourselves, if our true experience were revealed.

This is a syndrome of the soul. And here's the thing: I see the same spirit in many places and many spheres now.

For example, we have our 24/7 news cycles, where people who are supposed to know something, tell us what we should be angry about. And we can't get away from it - ignore the television, and it's all over the Facebook. The Instagram. The Twitter. Do you thrive on being driven to continual anger this way? Do you enjoy being the one who is "in" and knows the right views and talking points?

That may tell you something about this syndrome - substitute the word "issues" for "sins" above and see if it fits. George Will recently said in an interview, "A lot of people are only happy when they’re unhappy now. It makes them feel alive to define themselves not in terms of positive affirmations, but of hostilities. And I don’t know what to do about it."1

Another example: I've seen Christians who try to follow a 24/7 sermon cycle. They'll have their favorite speakers who are well-informed and that say what they think ought to be said. And they suppose that such immersion into that mode of communication will somehow be the shorter path to true godliness. That if they can survive the self-flagellating experience of being told often and daily how bad they are, they'll be better faster. All predicated on being "in," even if it doesn't match their daily subjective experience.

We can fool ourselves into thinking it's a good thing because we're also mercilessly tearing ourselves down. Pain for a moment, but it's for the greater good, right? Right?

Well, no. It isn't. Please understand - truth matters, values matter, outcomes matter. But a continual focus on the negative is not a healthy place to be. We are God's creation first, and sinners second - the way we present ourselves ought to reflect that. The way we talk to ourselves should, too.

References:

1 Stanton, Zack. “Does ‘Conservatism’ Actually Mean Anything Anymore?” Politico, 17 Sept. 2021, www.politico.com/news/magazine/2021/09/17/future-politics-conservatism-george-will-512308.

"anger" by anyone123 is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0