Deception

I've blogged before about Lucy, my '92 LeBaron dream car. I drove Lucy during college. Let me tell you a bit more about Lucy. Aside from the hood latch, her body was in great shape. I'm talking not one part of the ceiling sagging. No rips or stains in the upholstery. No rust spots, no major scratches or dents. No cracks in the glass. And when I scrubbed her down with a gas station squeegee (a college student way of getting a free car wash), she really sparkled. Aside from the fact that Lucy was obviously not a new model in style, she was a beaut.

When she finally died, I found a friend and her mechanic boyfriend, who came to see what might be wrong. When the mechanic opened the hood, he was astounded. One problem I remember he pointed out, was this blue powder of corrosion by every single bolt on the engine.

He had a lot more to say than that. I don't really speak car so I didn't get it all. But the bottom line: it was the end of the road for Lucy and me.

To look at Lucy, you'd think she was in great condition. It's what her outside communicated. I knew I had to put in more oil almost as much as gas, and that was a problem, but otherwise I had no indication she wasn't in perfect health.

I think if Jesus were to talk to the Pharisees today, he'd compare them to Lucy. In reality, he called them whitewashed tombs, a more culturally relevant metaphor back then. All pretty on the outside, but dead on the inside. Lucy's well-cared for exterior was a facade, a deception, covering the decay and rot in the part of her that really mattered: her engine.

Religion can do that to us. That's why Jesus thought the Pharisees were whitewashed tombs. Their religion made them look all good and holy and righteous. But true righteousness isn't about showing off how perfect you are. It's about a heart and a passion for God. That's the engine. And for the Pharisees, it was as dead as Lucy's.

I want to be so much more than an empty shell. I don't want my life to be a deception covering up decay. I want to be beautiful where it really counts: in my heart.