One morning, Clotile woke up, looked at herself in the mirror, and rushed off to her doctor.
Breathless and panicked, she said, “Dr. Pierre, take a look at me. When I woke up this morning, I looked at myself in the mirror and saw my hair all wiry and frazzled up, my skin was all wrinkled and pasty, my eyes were blood-shot and bugging out, and I had this corpse-like look on my face! What’s wrong with me, Doctor?”
Dr. Pierre looks her over for a few minutes, then calmly says, “Well, Clotile, I can tell you one thing… there’s nothing wrong with your eyesight.”
This past Wednesday, we celebrated the Feast of the Holy Name. A celebration of the name that God the Father gave His Son—Jesus. It is, without a doubt, the most powerful name throughout time because regardless of where and when it is spoken, it can generate powerful negative and positive emotions.
As I was preparing that sermon, I guess this one was percolating in the background because I want to come back to this idea of names, but today, instead of the names we are given at birth, I’m thinking about the names we give ourselves. For example, I can look in the mirror and think, “Now there’s one sexy beast.” Not really. Most of the time, the name I use when looking in the mirror is not so kind. And there are times when I look past the image I see in the mirror to my inner self, and the names can be even more cruel and hateful. I don’t imagine I’m the only one, so why is that? Why is it that we can be unkind to ourselves?
A few months back, we did a class by Lysa Terkeurst—Forgiving What You Can’t Forget. Most found it beneficial. I’m not sure if this is one of the major points she was trying to get across in the teachings, but one thing that has stuck with me has to do with the stories we tell ourselves. The stories of our lives with all the various players, the emotions (whether real or perceived), the joy or the pain experienced, and so on. We have these stories, and we tell them to ourselves.
If, in that story, we are the one that is hurt or done wrong, then every time we tell that story to ourselves, we re-enter it, and in those negative stories, all the hurt, pain, and anger resurfaces. We experience it all over again. That’s not a good thing because it does not allow us to heal. We remain in this rut, and over time, our lives are lived out of that rut, never experiencing joy or forgiveness.
In the telling of these stories, we give ourselves names. With the good stories, the names can be joyful: rock star, sexy beast, strong, faithful, obedient, happy. But in those other stories, the negative ones are where we employ the cruel and hateful names. And, because the negative in our lives has far more significant influence over us than the positive, we come to believe those negative names we call ourselves are who we truly are. If someone calls you “stupid” enough times, you come to believe you are stupid. From a spiritual perspective, call yourself unholy, unloveable by God, unworthy, and damned enough times, and guess what? You start to believe that as well.
To get ourselves out of the rut of the story and to begin to have a better view of ourselves, Lysa suggests that we rewrite the script of that story. For example, if there is a story in your life where someone hurt you, or you were the one doing the hurting, you can tell yourself that story repeatedly, each time experiencing the same pain, anger, and resentment you’ve always felt. The rut continues to hold you on the path, but what if you rewrote the script? What if you said, “I’m no longer going to be angry or hurt.” What if you said, “Instead of feeling angry or hurt at someone else or myself, I will rewrite the script. When I begin to tell myself that story again, instead of becoming angry at them or myself, I will choose to forgive. Instead of raging in my mind and continuing down that path, I’m going to forgive the person who hurt me, or I’m going to forgive myself and accept the forgiveness that comes from God.” It doesn’t fix it overnight; it is a process that requires patience, but over time, you begin to tell a story of forgiveness, not anger and resentment.
This same principle applies to the names we call ourselves. We must begin to rewrite that script as well, but what do we replace them with?
“In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’”
In the Catechism at the back of the Book of Common Prayer, the question is, “What is Holy Baptism?” The answer is, “Holy Baptism is the sacrament by which God adopts us as his children and makes us members of Christ’s Body, the Church, and inheritors of the kingdom of God.” (p.858)
Jesus was God’s son, so he did not need to be baptized and adopted; however, Jesus’ baptism demonstrates how we can be adopted and become sons and daughters of God. Jesus is showing us the way to the Father.
At His baptism, Jesus heard the words of the Father, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Henri Nouwen writes, “These words revealed the true identity of Jesus as the beloved. Jesus truly heard that voice, and all of his thoughts, words, and actions came forth from his deep knowledge that he was infinitely loved by God. Jesus lived his life from that inner place of love.” (Source, January 2)
How is it that Jesus could submit Himself to the horrors of the cross? He understood that, regardless of all that would come against Him, all that was said about Him, and all that was done to Him, He was the Beloved Son of God. In the face of it all, He could say, “I am the Beloved.” And in knowing that, He could trust the Father to see Him through.
How do we move away from the hateful and cruel names we call ourselves? Through your baptism, you have become God’s daughters, God’s sons. Of this, Nouwen writes, “I know now that the words spoken to Jesus when he was baptized are words spoken also to me and to all who are brothers and sisters of Jesus. My tendencies toward self-rejection and self-deprecation”—my tendencies to look in the mirror and speak cruel and hateful words—“make it hard to hear these words truly and let them descend into the center of my heart. But once I have received these words fully”—I am also the beloved—“I am set free from my compulsion to prove myself to the world and can live in it without belonging to it. Once I have accepted the truth that I am God’s beloved child, unconditionally loved, I can be sent into the world to speak and to act as Jesus did.” (Ibid.)
You can look in the mirror and speak words of hate, but how can you hate what God loves so dearly? Rewrite the script. You are not the person in the stories that you tell yourself. You are the beloved of God. Rewrite the script. Imagine for a moment what your life could be if you lived into that knowledge, that place of love. Imagine what it would be like to look in that mirror and say, “I am the beloved of God.” And not only say it but believe it.
In our first lesson from Genesis, we heard how God separated the light from the darkness. “Let there be light.” The author then tells us, “And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.”
Look into the mirror of your soul and say to it, “I am the beloved of God.” Believe it, and let this be the day God separates the light from the dark within you. Let this be your first day.
Let us pray:
Father in Heaven,
You made us Your children
and called us to walk in the Light of Christ.
Free us from darkness
and keep us in the Light of Your Truth.
The Light of Jesus has scattered
the darkness of hatred and sin.
Called to that Light,
we ask for Your guidance.
Form our lives in Your Truth,
our hearts in Your Love.
Amen.
Candle in a Cave 
Well your “bedside” manner and delivery is much better than Clotile’s doctor. This is an awesome message!