The Frightening Freedom of Telling the Truth

As usual, a variety of different experiences dovetailed in my life recently, bringing up the same themes over and over.

Some people see these things as the grace-filled work of God’s Spirit.

In my case, I think grace-filled nudges from God’s Spirit often sail right by me . . . this was more like a whack on the head by whichever member of the Trinity handles the difficult cases.

The first thing was that I just finished reading Leaving the Saints this week, which is not a book I would normally read because:

1. The woman who wrote it has made a fortune as a “life coach” and since I am insanely jealous that I did not think of that first I usually am rather dismissive, and

2. I’d read some about the author, Martha Beck, and, frankly, she sounded a little bit . . . well, maybe “unstable” is a little harsh. Let’s just say she’s had a wild ride so far in her life.

Upon the recommendation of a trusted friend, however, I went online and ordered the book from the library. Last week I sat down to read it

. . . and I cried all the way through.

(FYI, it takes a lot to make me cry while I read, with the notable exception of Love Comes Softly, which I dare you to read without tearing up.)

Beck’s story is one of abuse and secrecy, lies and instability, organized religion and genuine faith. Anyone who grew up in any tightly knit religious community and/or felt abandoned or betrayed by that community on any level can certainly relate to her story.

Okay, okay, some parts of the book, I’ll admit, were a little woowoo even for me, but in the end I have to say: this is a searing and heart-wrenching accomplishment of the task of telling one’s truth for the end goal of healing and hope.

And then, in the middle of reading this powerful book, I had the opportunity to join some friends to view the documentary film Shut Up and Sing.

I was pretty excited about seeing the film, and also a question and answer session with the film director, Barbara Kopple.

Plus, I love the Dixie Chicks’ music and all that.

In other words, I want you to know that I did not waltz off to the movie theatre last Thursday with the intention of uncovering any deep spiritual revelations (back to what I was saying about a whack on the head).

I have to say that the film itself and the comments of the director at the conclusion of the film made me start thinking long and hard about the cost of telling the truth about something, and the freedom that naming the truth can bring.

Sure, the Chicks have plenty of money and they could play their music regardless of what people think. But the ramifications of their comments (and, even further, of their unwillingness to back down or give in to a fracture of their group) ranged from CD burnings, a banning from country radio . . . and even serious threats on their very lives. Just for telling the truth as they saw it.

As far as I know, Martha Beck was not banned from country radio, but she’s STILL scared for her life after telling a story that violates a secret in her family and in the church in which she grew up.

In both the movie and the book, though, I heard the same message over and over and over again: the price of telling your truth must be paid. The alternative, you see–dying inside while trying to be someone you’re not–costs so much more.

We’re living now in a season of the church year when we proclaim our ridiculous truth over and over: the Gospel message that love will rule the day, even in the face of pain and even death. I read about it in Leaving the Saints and watched it in full color in Shut Up and Sing . . . come to think of it, I spend most of my life reading about, studying and proclaiming it through the life and ministry of Jesus the Christ.

(Being banned from country radio must be pretty bad, but look what happened to him!)

The Dixie Chicks decided telling their truth was worth it. So did Martha Beck . . . the alternative was certain to keep them in chains.

And as for Jesus, you may recall he had some thoughts on the subject, too:

They did not understand that he was telling them about his Father. So Jesus said, “When you have lifted up the Son of Man, then you will know that I am the one I claim to be and that I do nothing on my own but speak just what the Father has taught me. The one who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for I always do what pleases him.” Even as he spoke, many put their faith in him. To the Jews who had believed him, Jesus said, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”