A Wedding, A Blunder, and An Invitation
Two weeks ago, I officiated my first wedding. Mike and Emily are a couple to whom I’d grown beautifully attached during months of pre-marital counseling, but I had never dreamt they would invite me to officiate their wedding. When they did, I felt honored and excited.
Their invitation also felt weighty. I took seriously the responsibility of leading Mike, Emily and their guests through one of the most significant ceremonies of their lives. As soon as I accepted their invitation, my mind went into action—thinking about me.
What if I botched their day?
What if I messed up and looked like a fool?
What would I even say? I’ve never done this before!
This movement to thinking about me is often a natural progression for me when God invites me into risky, unexplored waters. And these were those kinds of waters. The battle between my flesh and spirit had begun and it felt like a war within me. My “old self” (outside of Christ) wanted to make a name for myself—argh. My “new self” (in Christ) wanted to pour life-giving words into Mike, Emily, and their guests and bring glory to our God.
I’m not embellishing the story to say that it was war. This situation took me back to my first School of Spiritual Direction where I first observed a follower of Christ invite me into his live-action battle between his old self and new self.
BACK TO THE PAST
Larry Crabb, our teacher and mentor, had been waxing eloquent for several hours, and we were captivated by his teaching. I had never been exposed to such rich theology of God and was hanging on every word, feasting on the richness of his wisdom. He was brilliant, pulling quotes out of his mind left and right. Suddenly, he paused and did something I had never seen a speaker/teacher do before.
As normal to him as breathing, he said, “I need to pause. I am looking in your faces and I can see that I am doing a pretty good job here. I am feeling like I’m pulling this off and I am feeling pretty good about myself right now. I need to confess that to you because I am making this about me right now, and this is how I can recenter myself in Christ and give our Father the glory for what He is doing here.”
As Larry confessed his struggle with self-obsession to us, I was overcome with the awareness of my own self-obsession. I saw my story in his story. I struggled similarly in teaching situations, feeling a bit puffed up at the impact I was having on others. In my head I knew that God was moving in people’s hearts, but I often wrestled with feeling like I was pulling it off. His confession became my invitation into a confessional life.
Before Larry confessed to us that day, I had not seen with such clarity my own battle with pride. Our fallen human nature is to glory in our glory, or to run from our glory. To be fully human is to live fully in our God-given glory for the Father’s glory. Larry’s authentic, vulnerable confession invited me into a journey of spiritual formation I had never experienced or been able to envision.
Larry normalized that our fallen nature is to be self-obsessed, but that partnering with Jesus through self-awareness and confession can release us into the loving image-bearers God designed us to be. C.S. Lewis wrote this about our fallen nature,
If anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the first step. The first step is to realise that one is proud. And a biggish step, too. At least, nothing whatever can be done before it. If you think you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed.
As quickly as Larry shifted gears into confession, he shifted back to teaching. It was his natural state of being to live confessionally before others. Equally stunning to his confession was the way he received God’s mercy upon His confession, which released him from his self-obsession without shame or self-contempt.
For a recovering self-flagellater, witnessing this process over and over had a profound affect on my life with God. I began to experience how my brokenness over my sin leads to repentance and a deeper release of the other-centered human God created me to be.
BACK TO THE PRESENT
Aware of my battle with pride, I asked God to shift the orientation of my thoughts to Him—over and over and over. It was a repetitive practice for me as I battled with my ego while researching how to officiate a wedding and wrote the ceremony. I asked God what words He desired to speak to Mike and Emily on their wedding day because that is what I wanted to share.
I flew to Seattle and the wedding day had arrived. I went on a small hike that morning with God because up until the last minute, I needed Him to reorient me away from seeking my glory to living out my God-given glory for His glory.
There I stood between Mike and Emily, reading through my notes while making contact with the bride and groom and their guests. Whew, that was a lot to juggle. I was off to a smooth start until I asked Mike’s parents if they would “love and accept Mike and welcome him into their family” instead of Emily. When my blunder registered in my brain, I let out an involuntary high-pitched, “Oops.” It was actually a cute sound. Then I laughed out loud alongside everyone.
I was human and gave myself permission to be human. The rest of the ceremony went without a hitch. It was lovely and I loved the words the Father, Son and Spirit had given me to speak into them.
Following the ceremony, many people laughed with me about my blunder and said, “It was actually perfect. It made you human and put us all at ease.” My imperfection was an invitation.
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