Higher Octane – Bart’s Biggest Sin

Some of you are already naming that biggest sin: Taking too long to get back to blogging! Lots of work…another move…whatever, whatever. About a year of family life, work life, and change in general. Hopefully I’m back for some more posts.

Now, for the real sin in Bart’s life:

Ranking myself and ranking others – in any category – like it matters.

Always comparing. Not as much the lust of the eyes, or the lust of the flesh – but that third one: the pride of life.

But, but, but…I’m so special…My mom told me how special I was, RIGHT?

Teachers from Kindergarten all the way to my senior year of high school were always praising me (unless I was being a smart aleck). “Bart, how did you learn to read so young?” “Bart, you wrote this so well.” “Bart, here’s another A on a math test.” I think I got my lowest score in Earth Science – because another guy borrowed my notes, and didn’t give them back. We had to turn those notes in to the teacher for a grade. Yes, I still remember his name. But that is all forgiven. (Unforgiveness is an ugly sin, too.)

So, with all this praise and “success,” I subconsciously figured I was smarter than most. I made better grades than my brother, most of my neighbors, and I got that little slip of paper with the class ranking. Just cleared the top 10 percent. 25 students out of 265 had a higher GPA than me.

I wasn’t really trying. I do NOT remember high school homework, except for the English Senior Thesis. Smoked it. When you pick Alice in Wonderland as your topic, I think teachers have to smile and say, “Well, it is an English Lit classic.”

And then, COLLEGE. A very different story. The top 10 percent of a multitude of high schools showed up, and the school expected real work. I think it took me until my 4th year to really know how to study, or how to make cogent sense in a paper.

Then that 4th year, a professor praised me for my improvement in his classes over the years, and I saved all of it in my heart as truth.

At UVa, I was more focused on Christian fellowship than academics. I knew when I stepped into the dorm, I had to be faithful, and I wanted a good testimony for the Lord. I thought I might be working in ministry one day, so I was trying to “be good.” I found my people right away, but I focused more on them than on my classes. (Another reason it took me so long to get decent at studying, writing, researching, and getting anything done.) Of course, I had no idea I was on the autism spectrum, or that I had any neurological issues. I fell asleep in class – a lot – perhaps I should have told my parents and gotten a sleep study back then.

Army ROTC helped a little with discipline. But it also gave me a uniform to wear. The pride of life had another hook to hang its hat on.

One of the first Christian events that I attended at school my first year was where I first noticed my pride. Backwards masking in rock music was a popular subject in the late 70s/early 80s, and one of the parachurch organizations on grounds posted all over the kiosks about their event to expose the evils in the music of that era. I went, as did many of my fellow first-year students.

Slides of album art that glorified the devil, recordings of lyrics, forward and backward, and then a mini sermon on how Jesus wanted to deliver us from all of that. “Don’t get pulled in” – the exact opposite of the message, “Don’t Fear the Reaper.”

So here I am, an evangelical youth at an evangelistic event, and my brain actually formed these words “Bart, you are better off (think ‘following the Lord more faithfully’) than most of these people.” That’s when I realized I had lost the humility I had as a new believer – and needed to get it back. I humbled myself, and raised my hand in response to the appeal, to do what I thought was called “rededicating my life.”

That night, I went backstage with about 7 or 8 other “hand raisers.” We didn’t stay there long; we drove over to a storefront church – where the baptismal pools were set up. I was a little freaked at first. “I’ve already been baptized! Immersed, even! It’s done! Why do I have to do it again?” These were the questions in my mind while the praise band was playing, and while I was making sure I knew where the door was.

I talked to one guy in line who had the same questions. In a strange way, having someone to talk to who had similar questions was a comfort. We did it. After the baptism, the visiting evangelist who had led the talk put one hand on my shoulder and one hand on my chest, while he prophesied over my life.

I went home and wondered about the events of the night. It was a pivotal moment in my life. After that experience, the presence of God, especially through praise and worship became more and more real, more exciting, and more desirable. I needed Christian music, and realized I needed fellowship with people in my life who were passionate about following and worshipping Jesus. I began to seek them more fervently. Deeply remembering the embarrassment of my lack of humility, I did gain from the failure. But the pride of life must have “kept my number.”

My own embarrassment before the Lord about my “ranking” among others in a group was part of my testimony and growth, but the patterns were still in my head. “I’m not as cool as he is. I’m cooler than that one. I’m smarter than him. I’m not as good as remembering things as she is.” These are not actual sentences that formed in my mind, but whispers – baseless ideas that showed I was still worried about my “ranking.” Funny thing, at UVa it started to become apparent that there were so many people who were better students, more talented people, stronger, faster swimmers, and much faster thinkers – than me. It was a big transition for me NOT to be in the top 10% anymore. My grades there were medium to medium-low, at best. As I looked back, I needed that kind of humbling.

Thinking I am “all that and a bag of chips” has gotten in my way of doing the right thing several times. For a few years after being asked to leave my first full-time church staff position, I would stew over the reasons. I was a good speaker – in my own mind. I didn’t have a lot of regular feedback. A few would say, “Bart, that was the best sermon/prayer/class/youth activity/senior adult trip.” Looking back, I think they were being nice or maybe they were trying to be encouraging. The church was not growing and had just lost its senior pastor in a sticky situation. I guess they knew they were going to have to shop for a “bigger fish;” I was not going to meet their expectations for their senior pastor as a young, not very traditional 30-year-old.

Now that I know more about myself, and my anxiety towards overperforming in social situations, I’m thankful for these and other humbling experiences that help keep me on the straight and narrow. Marriage brings a lot of feedback, and I have had other mentors and elders to provide feedback as well.

Usually, people do not like folks who are walking around thinking they are “God’s gift to mankind.” Some days, I can think about the other person’s needs. We all like to talk about ourselves, our families, our experiences – I need to remember that sometimes, it’s the other person’s turn to talk about themselves.

How does a person attack the pride of life? I heard a preacher say recently, “Don’t pray for God to give you humility. The Bible does not teach that. The Bible says, ‘Humble yourSELF.”

I, me, Bart, must do it, instead of sitting around waiting for God to produce humility in me. That could be catastrophic if THAT is what it will take to humble me.

As I age, I am hoping I do not drift into believing that I should be lauded or served. In automobile transmissions, manual or automatic, the shift into a low gear is purposeful. Gratitude to others who recognize anything good in or about me and turning the praise over to the God who is the source of all good things – these should do the trick, as long as I believe what I’m saying! False humility doesn’t fool anyone. I’ll keep shiftin’ into lower gears; that’s where the real traction is in the Christian life. I need to serve someone else and not worry about my stature. Jesus is worthy of all the glory – I’m just one of many living stones in a building being erected in His honor.