Masks. We all wear ’em.
My favorite was tagged “Daddy.” It was part Drill Instructor, part-Cookie Monster.
Another example?
When I was a reporter, I occasionally wore my “Colombo” face to interview people, particularly politicians. It was a great veneer, really. I just played dumb — which was not a stretch. Sometimes the government guy would be condescending, but at least I got an answer.
Then there was my “Church” mask: Its basic message: “I’m OK. You’re OK. My family is OK. Everybody is A-OK.”
Except, of course, it wasn’t.
When you’re married with three kids, you’re always facing a crisis: Lice. Mice. Money. Food. Homework. Shoes. Car trouble. Illness. Leaky roof. Termites. You name it.
But at church, we hid all the garbagey stuff — and, instead, smiled.
I have no idea why.
It’s no wonder church-goers get tagged “hypocrites,” though a look at the root-word may help explain why.
Hypokritḗs is Greek. It can mean “an actor under an assumed character (stage-player).” It can also mean dissembler (truth-concealer) or pretender.
Jesus was understandably tough on hypocrites:
“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs which indeed appear beautiful outwardly, but inside are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness.” (Matt. 23:27)
I can’t defend hypocrisy, especially since I’m “Guilty as charged.” But I will say this: If everybody who routinely put on a mask for one reason or another were honest about it, we’d soon realize that there are few — if any — non-maskers. That, alone, should prompt us to be a smidge more tolerant with each other.
Let’s face it. (Pun intended.) We put on our game face. Happy face. Kissy face. Weary face. Smirking face. Smiley face. Flushed face. And let’s not forget the “Face with Stuck-Out Tongue and Tightly-Closed Eyes” face. All that and more. In fact, if you do a Google for “Emoji Cheat Sheet,” you’ll find even more faces; some familiar, some not so much — many of which many of us have worn at one time or another.
My point?
Shakespeare wrote that, “All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances.”
I don’t have a “Daddy” face any more (packed that puppy away years ago) though my Grandpa face shares some similarities. My “Colombo” face? Long since retired. The face I wear at church? It’s much older now: a bit more honest, a lot more wrinkled.
And you? What about your mask?
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