One year while my husband, Burt, was deer hunting, I spent a few days with my married daughter who lives in Iowa. Shelly and I made plans for some activities with her children, and then ‘Shelly and me’ time. Shelly called a few days later. “I have a surprise for you so bring something a little dressy.” She sounded excited. My curiosity was piqued, and my anticipation ran high as I packed the following morning.
The day splashed with sunshine giving the illusion of warmth, but the late fall air felt cold – even through my ski jacket.
The four-hour drive was uneventful, but then…
After a delightful weekend spent in a flurry of family activities, Monday arrived – the day Shelly had planned our special mother/daughter time. “We’ll eat an early supper because we have to leave at 6:00 o’clock sharp,” she said, with a mischievous grin. “Give me a hint, ” I coaxed. “Des Moines,” was all she said.
I changed into my black jeans and silky blouse, touched up my makeup, and glanced into the mirror for my own distorted nod of approval. Shelly, on the other hand, emerged from her room wearing a black sweater and matching dress slacks complimented with a powder blue scarf about her neck. “Wow! You look great,” I exclaimed. “You do too,” she reassured, as we dashed out the door.
Once in the car, I began to squirm. “Something’s wrong with my jeans.” “You look fine,” she reassured. But, throughout the 45 minute drive, I continued to wiggle in the passenger seat trying to ignore my uncomfortable feeling.
The streets of Des Moines had frozen slush tracks and small mounds of snow at the curb, but Shelly eased her car into a parking spot close to a theater. I looked wide-eyed at the blinking lights of the marquee: Phantom of the Opera. “You got tickets to…?” “Yup!” she laughed.
Once inside the theater, I immediately felt under-dressed. Most of the women wore long gowns and the men were dressed in suits. “No matter,” Shelly soothed, when she saw my look of chagrin.
I don’t belong here. Why am I trying to look as though I do?
About half way through the first act, I realized why I was feeling so uncomfortable. I leaned over and whispered to Shelly, “I know what’s wrong
with my jeans.” “What?” she whispered back. “They’re Burt’s!” We looked at each other in the darkness, and tried desperately to stifle our laughter. London’s greatest love story lost its drama that night in Des Moines.
All I could thing about was that I was wearing my husband’s low-rider jeans with the tail of my blouse hanging out trying to appear sophisticated and chic all at the same time. “What if Burt is wearing my jeans deer-hunting?” And the muffled laughter started all over again.
Hypocrisy ~
Suddenly I realized that I was trying to appear as something I was not. I knew the Bible warned against such a thing. James 3:17 says, “But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, unwavering, and without hypocrisy. And what did Jesus call the Pharisees, because on the outside, they looked like pious leaders in the church, but inwardly, their hearts told a much different story. He called them hypocrites!
My experience with the Phantom and hypocrisy was a lighthearted way for me to learn a very serious Biblical warning against the pretense of being someone we are not or having a false piety.