Letting Go of Our Fig Leaves: Embracing Vulnerability in our Relationship with Jesus
Over the course of the last year, I have tackled the project of developing a companion study guide to my book Forgetting the Fairy Tale. In doing so, I’ve come back to the discussion of having a relationship with Jesus and what that means in daily life. In summary, the book says, in order to have a fulfilled and meaningful life, we must reject the false idols of attraction, beauty, sex, popularity, success, marriage, motherhood, and more as paths to happiness and contentment. Instead, we must engage and develop our relationship with God knowing that only He can provide us with the worthiness we crave. But beyond the disciplines of prayer, Bible reading, and church attendance, how is this accomplished? The answer lies in the word, “vulnerability.”
Defining Vulnerability
In the book, Daring Greatly, Brené Brown defines “vulnerability” as “uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure.” I cannot imagine a better way to describe what a real relationship with God feels like. William Paul Young in his book, Eve, describes it as being “face to face.” No pretense. No masks. No shame. Just pure love and connection.
I’ll be honest. This is terrifying. Especially for those of us who pride ourselves on being “good girls.” Never disappointing. Always proper. Always put-together. Carefully crafting the image we present to the world so as to not make the slightest frown appear on any matronly faces. The same applies to the “rebels” too. Not caring and caring too much are two sides of the same coin. Both costumes we put on in the morning to cover our true selves before walking onto the stage of the world.
To be vulnerable is to be as Adam and Eve were in the garden—naked and unashamed. This is how God desires us all to be. In fact, we all begin this way as children. Shame is a learned emotion. Guilt is a God-tool for correction. Shame is the tool of the Enemy meant to get us to hide from God. It’s one of his favorite weapons for he knows that only God has the ability to lift our heads and restore worth and wholeness.
Exchanging Vulnerability for the Fig Leaves of Shame
We learn shame when we are mocked by the neighbor kids. When our grades don’t measure up in school. When the popular kids tell us we aren’t cool enough, smart enough, pretty enough, or athletic enough to sit at their table. We learn shame when our parents tell us to “suck it up and be a man” or “don’t be a wuss” or “in this family girls don’t [insert thing that makes you happy and…well…you].”
It doesn’t take long before we believe being ourselves is somehow bad, so we pretend. We act like the sibling who gets the positive attention. Imitate the cool kids. Slip into perfectionism. Or we act like the rejection of our true selves doesn’t hurt. Throwing away the values of our parents to run in the opposite direction.
We carry these beliefs about ourselves and how we think we are supposed to be into our relationships with God as well. Thinking God is disappointed with us, judges us, rejects us, or doesn’t love us. Maybe even believe God doesn’t exist because to believe He does and we don’t measure up to His standard is simply too painful.
The Naked Truth
The truth is, God is not our parents. He’s not our elementary school teachers. Or the kid who mocked us from the bleachers while we stumbled through our role on the court. He’s our Creator, and there’s nothing we can do to make Him love us any more or any less. His love for us is complete, not a prize for which we have to compete.
What was God’s response to Adam and Eve in the garden after they sinned? “Who told you that you were naked?” (Genesis 3:11 ESV) In other words, who shamed you? Who said you weren’t good enough? Who made you feel small…less than…insignificant…broken? God was not the one that introduced these feelings to Adam and Eve. Satan was.
Satan will always tell us our good isn’t good enough. That our body isn’t thin enough. Our contribution isn’t worthy to be shared with the world. Satan convinces us we should hide our true selves behind fig leaves and religion. God doesn’t tell us these things. He gives us a way to escape shame—forgiveness. God exchanges our sinfulness for the righteousness of Jesus. He lifts our chin and makes us look in His eyes, not so we will feel small, but so we will connect with His heart. So we will feel valued and cherished. In this relationship, in this soul-nakedness, we are accepted as we are. We are celebrated. We are treasured as beloved sons and daughters.
The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. Zephaniah 3:17, ESV
Choosing Vulnerability
Vulnerability in our Jesus-walk is something we must choose every day. We do this when we confess our sins, laying them at His nail-scarred feet and refusing to let the weight of them pull us down into negative self-talk and blame. Confession is step one. Accepting Jesus’ forgiveness, step two.
We choose vulnerability when we embrace grace. Grace for yourself and others. Grace is the foundation on which our relationship with Jesus rests. Religion supports self-flagellation. Sometimes that looks like the self-inflicted pain of whippings and climbing stairs on your knees. Sometimes it looks like a form of humility and self-abasement cherished by the religious elite. Occasionally it looks like picket lines and religious protests. Jesus rejects these “burnt offerings” and offers the cross instead. Our guilt dissolves in His blood. Shame and finger-pointing have no place in the life of the Christian. Only grace.
We choose vulnerability when we engage with others. It’s easy to mock someone’s sin in order to feel better about ourselves. It’s hard to mock someone when you truly see them—their hardships, their fears, what brought them to their place in life. Empathy and judgment are opposites. It’s hard to look your nose down at a stripper when you’re holding her hand in her dressing room, questioning whether she’s old enough to obtain a drivers license and praying for her. Jumping into the messy middle of people’s lives promotes compassion, kindness, understanding, and love. It’s what Jesus did for us and the least we can do for others.
Possibly the most important aspect of vulnerability is choosing to pursue Jesus. Wait…you say…doesn’t Jesus pursue us? Yes. He did and He does. But relationships go two ways. Being vulnerable means opening up our hearts, laying bare our desires, plans, fears, and pain before the Lord. This is frightening. What if Jesus doesn’t respond as we think He should? This takes courage. This is faith.
No More Fig Leaves
Walking in a relationship with Jesus feels raw. Like standing naked before someone hours after saying, “I do.” It’s just you and him and you desperately want to know you’re good enough to be loved completely. Thankfully, we already have Jesus’ assurance that we are perfect in His sight—fat rolls and all. He doesn’t want our “Sunday best.” He wants us in all our messy-haired, mascara-smeared, Monday morning glory.
The fig leaves are getting in the way. Let them go and let Him in.
