Lift Up Your Face

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Romans 12: 1-8 I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. 2 Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. 3 For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. 4 For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, 5 so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. 6 Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; 7 if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in teaching; 8 the one who exhorts, in exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness.

We’ve been conditioned to think of Lent as a time for actions, a 40-day period devoted to specific sacrifices—like fasting, or doing good works—that we can check off a to-do list. We “suffer” for a little more than a month and then often go back our normal routines without growth or spiritual progress. If those sacrificial acts have no impact on our attitudes, then spiritually they are worthless.

It seems to me that Lent could be better used to develop spiritual habits which will continue all year long. Psychologists who study habit formation say that there’s no specific timeframe—how long it takes can vary, depending on the individual and the complexity of the habit—but 40 days is long enough to get off to a good start.

So I challenge you today to consider joining me in working on a new habit. Instead of giving up something, let’s take on a new spiritual habit. Let’s ask God to renew our minds, and then do our part to facilitate that process.

Our Scripture today, Romans 12:1-8, is one of my favorites. The second part of the passage addresses community, and I’m excited that this will be the theme of our Lenten sermons at Rayne this year. But godly community has to begin with a relationship with God, and that’s what the first few verses address. “Be transformed by the renewing of your mind so you can prove what is the good and acceptable and perfect will of God.”

Paul wrote that letter to the church at Rome when the city was a bustling metropolis on the verge of great changes. A variety of folks were trying to co-exist. Nero was the emperor but had not yet begun persecuting Christians, though he’d started his downward slide. The gap between the very rich and the very poor was widening, and the young church was struggling to address these societal changes in a godly manner. That sounds a little like our current situation.  

Paul knew it was important for the church members to develop strong, spiritual habits, and he knew that it couldn’t happen overnight.  “I urge you, I exhort you, I plead with you, I beg you…please,” said Paul. Please. Let’s learn to continually surrender our bodies to God, which means we try not to deliberately harm our bodies and we don’t use our bodies to hurt anyone else.  And then—just as important, maybe more so—let’s learn to surrender our minds, our thoughts, our attitudes. We can cooperate with the process of transformation through the ongoing renewal of our minds. We can form and maintain the spiritual and mental habits that will help us focus on the Divine. Maybe let’s start by changing the way we pray. 

Often our prayers are aspirational and reflect the way we want to feel, or the way we think we’re supposed to feel—like saying “Thy will be done” when inside we’re kicking and screaming, “NO, not that way!” Let’s include our true feelings in our prayers.

That’s why there’s a special insert in your order of worship. I hope you’ve taken a moment to look at it, because the pictures can help us identify our emotions. What faces would you choose to represent your feelings today? How are you really feeling now? You don’t have to tell anyone else, but be honest with yourself. And lift that face to the Lord.

We have precedence in the Bible, both negative and positive: Jeremiah lamented about the people who turned their backs to God, and not their faces (Jeremiah 32:33). Hezekiah groaned because his people’s “ancestors forsook God and turned away their faces” (2 Chron. 29:6). But Daniel turned his face to God through “prayer and pleas for mercy” (Daniel 9:3). Ezra lifted his face to God even though he was appalled at his community’s sins (Ezra 9:6). And in one of Jesus’ best-known miracles, the feeding of the 5000, Jesus lifted his face to heaven in prayer.

We’re coming out of the Carnival season in New Orleans and a lot of us probably had on masks at some point. That’s great fun occasionally but it’s an exhausting way to live. Emotionally, sometimes we wear masks for so long that they become a part of us and we ourselves are not sure who we really are or how we really feel. 

Our society doesn’t encourage us to be open about our feelings. We hear admonitions to “tough it out” or to be strong; rugged individualism is put on a pedestal; “fake it till you make it” is considered good advice. None of this encourages openness about our feelings, and the vulnerability needed to talk with someone about them. Even God. 

Maybe a good habit to work on during Lent is identifying our emotions. This is a skill that can be learned, with intention and practice. We can name those feelings and we can lift them to God; we can know that we are not alone with them, not stuck in isolation.

As we learn to identify feelings, we learn to be honest—name the emotion, then address it. Let’s not linger (or wallow) in it, but let’s not ignore it. We don’t have to try to talk ourselves out of a feeling; it’s not healthy to scold ourselves for feeling a certain way. Let’s never tell ourselves that we shouldn’t be feeling sad or mad or disappointed or anything else. Our feelings are what they are and should be acknowledged as such. Our actions in response to those feelings should be controlled and careful, but we can always acknowledge our emotions. Then we move forward by lifting those emotions, lifting our faces to God, no matter what we’re feeling.

And then let’s listen to hear God’s response. It may come from an unexpected source—a song, a memory, a stranger’s passing word—but our Lord will answer with love.

When have you lifted your face? Maybe to feel a soft rain after a long hot day. Or for a kiss from someone who loves you. Maybe when you were a child you lifted your face to a comforting, trusted parent or teacher who cupped your chin, looked into your eyes, and told you that you were safe. Maybe you have lifted your face to smile, to cry, to get help…

We long to be known and loved; we yearn for true intimacy; and it starts with God. Who knows you better? Who loves you more?

If you have never felt God’s love, if the pain is too great and the wounds are too deep, pray about that first. Just ask, and God will answer in the way and the time that is best. Maybe your Lenten discipline can be to gently, slowly open your heart.  

David repeatedly pleaded with God not to “turn his face away” or “hide his face from us” (Ps. 27:9). There are numerous similar petitions in the psalms and elsewhere: God, don’t hide your face from us. Don’t stop helping us, don’t stop communicating, don’t shut us off, don’t end the relationship.

My friends, what if God is saying the same to us?

• Don’t hide your face from me
• Don’t stop helping  
• Don’t stop communicating
• Don’t shut us off
• Don’t end the relationship
• Trust me enough to show me your face.

What if God is pleading – “Don’t turn to me only in desperation. Come for fellowship, for an honest reciprocal relationship?” What if our Lord is saying, “Lift your face to me. Come walk with me.”

We can’t come face-to-face with Jesus until we lift our faces to him. That’s why I love this picture on your order of worship (“Christ on the road to Emmaus” by Duccio di Buoninsegna). The disciples were showing Jesus their true faces (maybe because they didn’t know who he was). They look irritated, maybe impatient. Tired, maybe scared. They show their faces. In return, Jesus walks with them. Teaches them. Encourages them. Blesses them with strength, renewed hope, and courage. He is waiting for us to show our true faces to him.  

I urge you, I exhort you, I plead with you today: lift up your dear, sweet face to the Lord who loves you. It doesn’t matter about the wrinkles and blemishes and scars. It doesn’t matter about your sins and mistakes and failures. What matters is that you’re here tonight, and that God is here too. What matters is that you’re ready to look to God, ready to lift up your face, ready to be open to your Creator, ready to say YES to the one who knows you best and loves you most. Ready to start a new spiritual habit by lifting your face to our God. Ready to walk in the company of our loving Lord, ready to be safe from the permanent effects of any evil. Ready to be forgiven, ready to be free, ready to be gradually transformed and delivered from death into eternal life. 

Let us pray now, and lift our faces to the Almighty.