Grace for Clown Hair

Dear Old Friend,

I'd like to say I have naturally curly hair.  The reality is that I have thin, frizzy, wavy hair which, when exposed to humidity, blows up into clown hair.  Just give me a red bulb nose and some white face paint and I’m set for the children’s party circuit.

As long as you’ve known me I’ve had this hair.  I was born with this hair.  Over the years I have tried many ways to appear as if I had sleek manageable tresses.  I’ve cut my hair so short that there wasn’t enough of it to poof out uncontrollably.  I’ve used endless hair products which promised to tame the frizz.  I’ve tried various electrical gadgets in an attempt to calm the waves. I’ve even ironed my hair! Some of the methods seemed to work, but only temporarily, and by the end of the day my hair has always begun to revert to its natural state.

I’m not sure which branch of the family to blame, but I feel certain that I inherited my unruly locks from one of my ancestors.  I had no say in the matter and, to my knowledge, there isn’t even a hair transplant which could give me a different head of hair; one which I would not have to fight every single day.

It occurs to me that our human nature, which the Apostle Paul refers to as our flesh, is a lot like my hair.  We work hard each day to tame it enough that we will not be too embarrassed in public; but, no matter how hard we try or what programs we follow, certainly by the time we go to bed at night we find that we have reverted to our natural state, to one degree or another.

We not only blame our ancestors for our tendencies, we blame any and everything else: society, culture, our dysfunctional upbringing, our educational system, the Democrats, the Republicans.  But, in reality, while some of those outside influences may compound our problems, the underlying issue remains our default fallen natures.

We have a This-For-That mentality; a sense of entitlement: If I do this I should get that. It is the part of us which craves recognition and power; which doesn’t just want to win; it secretly wants the satisfaction of knowing someone else loses.  It is that thing in us which compares and competes, judges and condemns, uses and discards; that wants credit for earning what we have and despises dependence as weakness while valuing independence as strength.

Conversely, it is also the part of us that fears we don’t measure up and drives us to outrun the feelings of unworthiness; the voice that taunts us, telling us that, whatever we do, it will never be enough. 

This nature is universal. We are born with it and we keep it until we leave this earth.  Biblically speaking it is the reason Paul says in Ephesians 2:5 and Colossians 2:13 that we all are dead in our sins.  No matter what we do, we don’t  get a new nature in this world; we can’t even successfully tame it; we daily try and revert; try and revert.

So, if this is true of the entire human race, what are the implications for Christians; those to whom the Holy Spirit has delivered the counterintuitive good news of our resurrection from the death which was our condition due to our This-For-That natures; What about those of us who have come to love the glorious truth that Jesus Christ came to earth with no sense of entitlement, no craving for recognition or power and took upon himself all of the judgment and condemnation which we deserved; and, through his life, death and resurrection, gave us his perfect record in place of our despicable one? Will we be empowered now to overcome our natures?

Despite the fact that we long with all of our hearts to be able to respond to his incomprehensible gift by rendering perfect obedience in return, we cannot.  Our hair will still frizz and our waves will escape.  We will still crave recognition and power, we will still compare and compete, judge and condemn; we will still fear that we don’t measure up and that nothing we do will ever be enough.  What value, then, is there in being a Christian?

Those who believe in the Grace of Christ have been given a new way of thinking which is the only effective weapon we can use in combat against our flesh. It is the Everything-For-Nothing way of thinking, which comes from outside of us. We cannot conjure it up on our own; it is the Way of the Spirit: The voice of the Holy Spirit testifying of Christ, telling us day by day, minute by minute, that we are forgiven, that we are not condemned, that we are loved, that we cannot and do not have to earn or deserve God’s love, that everything has been done for us, that everything has been paid for in full, that it is finished.

The Spirit's voice of assurance, that Jesus gave us Everything for Nothing, speaks to us in Scripture, in seasons of prayer, in sermons, in the sacraments, in songs of worship and praise, in the grace-filled words of other believers; in community.  

Through the Spirit, we, as believers, are given the privilege of being that voice for each other: that voice which drowns out the cacophony of our natures and encourages us to look to our Savior, rather than at our failures. Changes for the better will only occur in us as we focus on his unconditional love for us and not on ourselves.

We need to be reminded that his mercies are new every morning, because every morning our hair is a mess.

I’m so thankful that you and I keep giving that assurance to each other!

Love Always,

Bonnie