Voices in My Head

"Get behind me, Satan." - Jesus

I always thought Jesus' words to Peter in Mark 8 were really strong.

Whoa, Jesus. Satan? Really? It's one thing to misunderstand someone's words. It's another thing to be the voice of Satan!

This passage was the Gospel reading a few weeks ago, and in the past few weeks, I haven't been able to get it out of my head because it finally makes sense to me.

Here's what happened. Someone questioned whether God had truly called me to ministry. A good friend. Someone I trust and care about. Someone whose opinion matters to me.

I was devastated.

I began to question everything I've done as a pastor over the past year. Everything I've preached. All the work I've done to prepare sermons, to be the best pastor I can be. Did any of it matter? Was I an agent of the devil?

And then I started to give up. Why bother? If there are people sitting in my congregation who think that by preaching I'm defying God, then why bother? Why prepare? Why study? I can't possibly say anything worth hearing anyway.

Then I came across this video on Facebook with Brene Brown. (If you watch it, her language is a bit strong, but sometimes strong language can get the point across. And she gets her point across.)

According to Brene Brown, our brains are wired to explain the world around us. We write stories to explain the interactions we have with other people. But sometimes our stories are totally wrong. Sometimes, we just really miss it.

Her example: someone gives me "the stink eye." I say, "He thinks what I'm saying is stupid. He thinks I'm terrible at this." But then if I gather up the courage to ask him, he says, "Sorry about that. I had something in my eye." Wow, was that first story wrong!

According to Brene Brown, people who are strong and successful know what their first stories are. They know where they tend to go when something negative happens. But they don't stop there. They start investigating. Why is this the story I always go to? What is the truth?

Christians believe that some of those negative stories can come from more than just our own minds; they can come from Satan, or "the accuser" as the book of Revelation says.

When someone questioned my calling, my mind was completely taken over by the voice of one who was definitely accusing, saying things like:

 - "You're not good enough to do this pastor thing and you never will be."
 - "You're trying to do too much. No one can take care of small kids, run their household, and pastor a church."
 - "A woman's place is barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. I don't know why you ever tried to leave. And truth be told, you're not even very good at the whole kitchen thing! You really are a failure."
 - "One person said it, but everyone thinks it."
 - "Who do you think you're kidding? You have no idea what you're talking about, standing up in front of all those people. Why don't you just sit down and shut up? We'd all be better off."

I'm a pretty creative person, and I came up with a lot of really negative stories.

Unfortunately, it wasn't as easy as simply asking to get to the truth, to be able to say, "Oh wow, I totally misunderstood you." But, that still doesn't mean I just stop there and accept the negative stories that my brain is telling me.

To be strong and courageous is not to never be told anything negative. Nor is it to never think anything negative about yourself.

To be strong and courageous is to search for the bigger story. And it is to say, with Jesus, "Get behind me, Satan."

In the case of Mark 8, I think it's possible that Peter voiced the story that was already playing in Jesus' head:

"He's right. I shouldn't have to die! It will devastate my friends, these people I care about. There's got to be another way."

But Jesus knew his story was bigger than that. It was for Peter's sake, and James' and John's and Martha's and Mary's, and for our sake that he suffered and died. He walked right into suffering as no one has before or since and defeated it.

And my story is bigger too. Here are some other stories:

"Yes, I'm not good enough, but God's strength is made perfect in my weakness."
"Too many women can't see a way out of the kitchen or wherever else they are confined, but by standing in front of a congregation and preaching, I can offer an invitation to full participation in the body of Christ, and not just to a few tasks that men have decided are acceptable for women."
"It doesn't matter if everyone agrees that I'm not good enough. God called me, and that's what matters. And for what it's worth, my husband thinks I'm awesome."
"I actually do know what I'm talking about. I am a seminary graduate. I read as much as I can. I listen to the people around me. I'm not perfect, but I'm not doing this half way. I'm committed to doing everything I can to be good at what I do."
"We would not all be better off if I stopped talking. Because every time someone succumbs to the voice of criticism and silences themselves, the Kingdom of God loses out. We are not called to take the path of least resistance; we are called to be faithful--even if that leads us to the cross."

It's been a rough few weeks. I've preached some sermons I didn't feel great about.

But I'm done.

I'm done letting those negative stories consume me. I'm done giving up.

I wrote a blog last year about women in ministry. I said I didn't want to fight. But as it turns out, I am ready to fight. I'm ready to fight the voice of the accuser in my head that tells me to sit down and shut up. I'm ready to fight to do what I'm called to do. I'm ready to fight for a chance to preach the good news of the gospel. I'm ready to fight to give a voice to the voiceless through my ministry.

I'm ready to say, "Get behind me, Satan. I'm doing this thing."

This little girl is watching everything I do.
I'm ready to fight on her behalf too!