Sacred Cynicism

While I live in Illinois, I grew up in Ohio. The weather is largely the same, the land looks the same, and both places have an immense lake on their northern coast, albeit different lakes. There is one significant difference, Ohio people are a little more zealous about being from Ohio, than Illinois people are about being from Illinois. To people who come from states with no tradition, it is hard to understand the pull of great tradition. (Sorry, the Buckeye in me could not resist) This tradition swells to a high point every autumn as the Ohio State football team takes the field. The streets actually empty and stores close during big games, especially that annual game against those awful mitten-dwellers (Michigan).

The past decade has been a great decade for us Buckeyes. We beat Michigan year after year, and muffle giggles as we gaze in the direction of the poor Michigan fans. Our Buckeyes finish in the top 10 every year, win our BCS bowl games and contention for the national championship is as regular as corn-on-the-cob in August. If you are from Ohio, nothing is more important than having a coach that beats Michigan year after year. Somehow the sun shines brighter, the birds sing louder, and the air is fresher to breathe. Plus, it makes it fun to visit Michigan on those summer weekends – you can drive with an extra feeling of pride.

Underneath the surface of this success, there were whispers that things were not as great as they appeared on the surface. There were rumors of cutting corners, and violations of competitive rules. The trouble is, these whispered accusations were not of anything big, just little infractions. Things that everybody does, and truth be known, those other teams probably did far worse than these little things our team was accused of doing. Besides, look at all the wins! Look at how miserable these Michigan people are! Ignore what is going on over here, enjoy the success.

Over time, these little whispers and peccadilloes mount, and there is a pattern that develops. That pattern becomes habit, and then one day everything you have tried to build collapses around you. What was the big sin that caused the damage? There may not be any. Just a series of little things that go unconfessed, unexamined, and perhaps actively hidden. The lesson here is plain to see. Integrity and character do not collapse overnight, it slowly drifts away. A little bit at a time when no one is looking, or when some little sin is ignored because someone else is doing far worse. Maybe we ignore the failure because it pales to this large success happening at the surface. Yet the foundation crumbles bit by bit, as we ignore the little things that pile up in our lives.

Imagine how things would have been different if there had been the cleansing power of confession. I did it! It is me! That should have been the cry, but it was not. I don’t know why, perhaps it was because it was easier to hide. Yet you can only keep things hidden for so long. Eventually, the little things become big. Yet character and integrity are lost long before the big comes out into the open. Character is developed in the quiet, at those times when no one is looking. It is lost the same way, in the quiet, hidden times of life. Like a leaky sink, character drips away when what is wrong is not fixed.

Psalm 139:23 has the following words, “search me God, and know my heart.” This is good advice. It seems to me there is value in making this a habit. It may help us in finding the little things that can pile up, and if we get into the practice of confessing the little things, then maybe we can live a life that avoids the huge breakdown. Perhaps this sad chapter can help teach this important lesson. I think the bowl games will be going away for awhile. The coach will be going away for even longer. Worst of all, the smiles may be returning to those mitten dwellers, and those smiles may last. That will be tough to take. A little confession earlier would have been much easier. Regular confession today is a lot easier than dealing with the larger collapse later.