My Hypocritical Heart

I was going to be late again. My fingers gripped the steering wheel as my foot pushed the pedal down, accelerating well over the speed limit. I switched lanes as my annoyance grew at the granny driver ahead of me, blaming her for my tardiness and letting her know it with a loud and obnoxious honk. What's with people today?1

My blue Chevrolet careened around the last corner into the parking lot, which I observed was full with just one or two more parking spaces available. A jam-packed crowd this Sunday, I thought to myself, which means sneaking into the back without anyone noticing just might be a possibility. Turning the key in the ignition off, I glanced into the mirror for last minute adjustments. I looked worried and stressed, not at all what people expect me to look like. I attempted to smooth out the lines on my face with a little more makeup and painted my lips to put some color in them. I finished off my perfected look with a brilliant smile and grabbed my bible from the passenger seat. 2

I was able to slip in before the service began and thankfully, no one noticed my late entrance except for the greeter at the door, to whom I gave a quick nod with my smile still plastered on. I was right- everyone was crammed into the sanctuary like sardines and I couldn't see even one available seat. I suddenly felt a large hand on my arm and I looked up expectantly, thinking it must be a friend. However, the face I looked into I didn't know, though there was something familiar about him. The kindness I saw in his warm brown eyes caught me off guard, and my smile faltered.3

"Hello! You seem to be in search of a seat and I happen to have one next to me. Follow me and I'll lead you over there," he said.4

"Oh- umm…alright," I replied. I let the stranger lead me through the rows of pews until we came to a spot just large enough for both of us to sit. He smiled and turned his attention to the front just as worship began. But his smile unsettled me. It was so…peaceful and genuine. It was obvious he hadn't pasted it on in politeness, but truly meant it. After a few moments, I realized I was staring and turned my full attention to the hymn being sung. 5

After singing a few more hymns, Reverend Riley asked the congregation to greet the person next to you before sitting down. I turned to the stranger and noticed he was in deep thought, a sad smile on his face. 6

"Is something wrong?" I asked.7

"So few…,"he answered, sadly shaking his head.8

"What do you mean, so few?"9

"Everyone sang worship songs, but so few meant those words of praise with their hearts," he replied. "I love them very much, but it hurts to see so many hearts in such poor condition."10

"You can't see hearts, and who are you to judge?!" I angrily snapped. 11

"Look around you and you'll see what I see."12

When I turned to view the people surrounding me, I wasn't prepared for what I witnessed. As crazy as it seemed, time seemed to be literally on pause and only the stranger and I appeared to be unaffected. I blinked twice, then three times in the hope that I would wake up from this insane nightmare. Almost everyone's flesh had burned away to reveal their hearts beating in the hollow of their chests. I couldn't tear my eyes away from one woman's heart in particular. Her name was Erin, a young woman I had met at a bible study we both attended. Though she was otherwise physically healthy, her heart struggled to pump blood to the rest of her body. It was discolored and spotted numerous purple spots. On a closer inspection, I noticed her left ventricle was partially ripped.13

"What happened? What did you do? What's wrong with Erin's heart?!" I asked, confused and alarmed.14

"All the hearts you can see belong to me. Erin is suffering the consequences of a broken heart. A month ago, she gave her virginity to a man who claimed to love her, but ended up leaving her for someone else," he answered, tears trickling down his face. "I hate to see her in pain, though I did warn her. My word clearly says sex is for marriage. I just wish she had listened…Now her heart his broken and bruised. If only she would let me fix it!"15

None of this was making sense to me. Who was this man? Glancing around, I noticed the greeter who I had met at the door. He was a middle-aged man with a heart literally covered in thick layers of ice. 16

"What's wrong with his heart?" I inquired. 17

"Tom hasn't talked with me in two years, right after his ten year-old daughter died from Leukemia. After dear Tanya's death, his marriage fell apart and he grew cold and bitter towards me. If only he'd come back to me!" the stranger sobbed. 18

I didn't know what to do or how to comfort him. His tears seemed to never stop flowing, amazing me by how much he really loved these people. Some hearts were strongly beating and a healthy red color, but there were overwhelming numbers of broken, frozen and decaying hearts as well.19

Curious, I looked down to see the condition of my own heart. The only word to explain my reaction was astounded…astounded…20

My heart was entirely black. Its veins, the color of a sickly white, wrapped and weaved around the oppressive darkness filling my opened chest. Horrified, I screamed, "WHO ARE YOU?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!" 21

The stranger's sad eyes looked into my own as he said, "Do you not know who I am? You knew me, once. Don't you recognize me? Oh daughter…I've known you since the day I knitted you in your mother's womb. I remember the day you asked my forgiveness and believed. I was at your party when the angels rejoiced because of your salvation and I wrote your name in the Book of Life. Do you still not recognize me, daughter?"22

I wouldn't look at him and couldn't if I tried, for tears were spilling from my eyes so quickly, everything was a blur. I couldn't stop crying. I didn't want to stop crying. I finally found my voice enough to say, "I know who you are…Father, what happened? I still come to church! I still do charities! I even tithe! What…what happened?"23

"You forgot why. You seemed to forget the reason for the church, for giving to others, and for tithing. Those mean nothing, without me. Christianity becomes another empty and meaningless religion, without me. The reason I sent my son to die for you is so we could have a relationship. I miss you, daughter! Please come back to me."24

I couldn't stand it any longer. I ran into his arms, those big loving arms that make me feel so safe and so loved. I couldn't tell you how long he held me, or how long our conversation lasted afterwards. But I can tell you this much- the smile I wear isn't pasted on anymore. 25