Really?

So Randy (see “Finding Freedom in the Cage”--July 7, 2003) says to me today, “I don’t think you’re as transparent as you could be when we talk. I think you sugar-coat things and hold back on some stuff.” It wasn’t quite out of the blue--we’d been talking about the rarity of healthy, authentic friendships and “relationships” --and when he looked at me and turned from the hypothetical to the personal I must confess that I expected him to congratulate (if not thank) me for being such a real, honest friend. Apparently not so much. He wasn’t being mean and it didn’t feel like an attack. In fact, he went on to say that his concern was for me--that I was missing out on a level of relationship that would feel good if I’d let myself get there. Wow. This is the kind of thing I’m forever saying to other people. It caught me quite off guard and has distracted me all day. It doesn’t even bring me down as much as it has completely preoccupied me. What do I do with this? I asked Randy for an example and he couldn’t think of one, though he did mention that he’d noticed it recently at Friday’s but neither of us could remember the specifics of the conversation. I made him promise to point it out the next time he felt like I was “pulling back” (his phrase) so that we could look at it. If he’s right it’s completely subconscious and unintentional. Now I’m left with a very, very uncomfortable self-awareness.

And here’s the kicker. Among the churchy people in my life, when such things come up, people tell me that I’m transparent and honest and that they find that refreshing. To Randy, however I’m guarded and closed and careful. As far as I can tell there are three ways to resolve this dichotomy. One is that one of those two opinions is inaccurate, but I don’t buy that because both come from people who have spent significant time with me. Another option is that I’m two different people depending on who I’m with. This may be true to a degree (Casey says we’re all living “Fight Club”) but not to the extent that the two conclusions could be this far apart. The third explanation is the most bothersome to me and also the most likely. Could it be that the standard for transparency has been set so low by the way we do church that anyone who has even a little “different drummer” to him is considered to be some sort of rebel without a care for what people think? Have we so homogenized acceptable “Christian” behavior in the pursuit of seeming spiritual (whatever that means) that someone like me who has largely abandoned the chase is perceived as more honest? (I also get “down to earth” a lot.) Could it be that among people who live in the real world (people like Randy) where people don’t feel the pressure to come off as hyper-spiritual someone (like me) who’s still dealing with years of social conditioning falls more on the other end of the spectrum? Is this stuff all relative? Downright distracting. I have no answers (and don’t know that I particularly want any).

Here’s what I know. All of the same factors that make Randy one of the last people from whom I wanted to hear something like that are the same factors that necessitate that he’s one of the very few people aware enough and honest enough and interested enough in our friendship to challenge me like that. It had to come from him (or one of maybe three other people). He loves me and is willing to risk hurting my feelings (they're not hurt) to move our friendship to a healthier level. It’s humbling and it reminds me that God hasn’t set me down in Home Depot 3822 to straighten out all of those lost people. We’re there for each other. I think I had forgotten.

I don’t know yet what I’ll do with all of this. I hate to think that I’ll pay such close attention to my conversations now that they’ll fail to be real on the other side of the scale. I’m pretty anti-self-awareness these days anyway. This is all new. I’ll let you know how it goes…or maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just keep it to myself and tell you everything’s fine…

All of this on the day that Andy Pettitte leaves the Yanks. Damn.