Showing posts with label imposter syndrome. Show all posts
Showing posts with label imposter syndrome. Show all posts

January 13, 2026

Humble and Faithful

Ever get stuck in a situation where you felt something called “Imposter Syndrome?” It’s when someone is being asked to do something outside their comfort zone that they are not sure they can handle.  They’ve been asked for an interview by the paper, or a boss wants them to take on new responsibilities, or they volunteer for a charitable organization, and they are not sure they can.  Sometimes panic ensues and people start feeling like imposters, they lose their self-confidence, they try to back down from their responsibilities and commitments.

It almost sounds like that was what John was feeling when he came face to face with Jesus.  He had been preaching that people needed to take a really good look at themselves with honesty and vulnerability.  And folks flocked to be baptised in the Jordan River.  It became a moment of epiphany for many people and a symbol of freedom.

John baptised them when they came ready to be honest about their flaws and failings.  Often times people might think that confession is meant to make us feel guilty or ashamed of who we are.  Certainly some churches do seem to preach shame and guilt when they talk about confession.  But it was more like if you go through your week gathering stones in your backpack, stones of broken promises, hurt feelings, maybe a little conflict here and there, and what people call trauma incidents.  You know, where the boss complains about an e-mail misspelling you made and you go home and yell at your cat kind of thing.  Or you watch the news and see stories of invasions, shootings and global warming. The more stones we carry of mistakes, hurts, problems, worries, anxieties, fear and anger, the heavier we feel and we don’t even know it.  The more rocks in our backpack, the more likely we are to yell, cry, panic or run away.  In modern coaching and leadership training, it’s called “going below the line”.  Simply put, the line is fear; when we go below the line, as Brene Brown puts it, we let fear take control.  Fear is in the driver seat of our car.  When we are above the line, we may feel fear, but it’s not driving us.  We are still in control of where we are going.  Sometimes our fear manifests as anger, part of the fight-flight response.  The more likely we feel like we can control a situation, the more likely we are to throw our weight around, yell, or ‘know” that we’re right and everyone else is stupid.  We see this in what’s happening around us today.  People who are angry about immigrants taking jobs or Toronto being uppity or Ottawa cheating us out of what we think we are entitled to, may be acting that way because they are afraid of losing their jobs or not having enough money when they retire.  So, they fight. Sometimes our fear makes us avoid conflict.  Sometimes our fear makes us freeze up.  We don’t know what to say or do, and it’s only until after the conversation is over that we think of what we could have said.  There’s also fawn.  That’s where we look for someone who is strong, powerful and clear in what he or she thinks is right.  We cozy up to that person and hope that they will keep us safe.  History shows that a culture where fear and anger towards the other is encouraged, ordinary people elect dangerous dictators like Hitler and the violence spirals out of control.  Fight, flight, freeze, fawn, are all biological responses to when we feel threatened, and they are how our ancestors survived encounters with sabre-toothed tigers.  They are normal.

That’s how John could have reacted when Jesus showed up.  He was starting to slide into fear.  “I’m an imposter.  I’m not good enough.  You are going to take away my job.  You are going to take away my audience.”  It’s a natural fear-based response to a sense of scarcity.  Jesus didn’t go there.  He didn’t say, “John, you worthless second-rate has-been, I’m moving into the neighborhood, and taking over from you, go find a new crowd elsewhere.  I’m the real boss and you can either kiss my feet or move on.”  No, he reminded John of why he and John were there, to honor God.  He went back to their mission.  “Let’s do what’s proper to fulfill God’s Justice.”  It was all about his big why, and John’s big why.  Bringing people out of the fight, flight, freeze and faun responses into abundant life.  Helping people let go of their backpacks of anger and fear, the shame, blame, broken promises, hurt feelings, conflict and trauma responses.  Lightening their loads.

Two wrongs never make a right. Two people using force to get their way never make peace. Two sides arguing that the other is a villain without redemption doesn't build respect. Two actions based in greed doesn't build trust. Two decisions based in fear doesn't establish love.  Jesus and John built two understandings, two mutual feelings of respect, two views of generosity, two experiences of teamwork.  They found they could respect each other, trust each other and do the work God called them to do.  When they did that, God showed up in dramatic fashion and said, “well done, you are my beloved servant”.

Humble confidence is the goal.  Staying above the line is the goal.  Not letting fear fill our backpacks.  Not letting us get so filled up with anger, judgement, resentments, hurts and guilt that we can’t move.  Facing ourselves with compassion so that we can be gentler with ourselves and others.  AA calls it taking a fearless inventory.  We in the Christian Church call it confession.  It’s all about learning to internalize the idea that God reconciles and makes us new.  That we are healed by God’s healing waters so we can love and serve others like Jesus and John did, together with trust and respect.  And when we do, God shows up and says, “these are my beloved children with whom I am well pleased.”  May it be so for us all. Amen.

May 28, 2024

Holy Seraphims Batman!

Have you ever woken up from an intense dream that left you shaken and sweating?

Or maybe the glimpse of an idea that surprised you, or a daydream over a cup of coffee?  I imagine that’s what Isaiah was experiencing when in the middle of the church service, the sermon and incense was putting him to sleep. He had a daydream, a vision that would have made Stephen Spielberg or George Lucas or Peter Jackson green with envy.  Winged creatures, not quite angels, and definitely not human.  And a God that is so big, just the hem of God’s robe filled the whole temple.  Even Kate Middleton’s train on her wedding dress was not long enough to do that.  And the temple is tended by seraphim, odd looking creatures with many wings. Some biblical scholars remind us that the word seraph comes from the Hebrew root word for snake, sarap, like the word Serpent, so maybe Isaiah was foreseeing an episode of Game of Thrones with flying dragons, snake-like creatures covered in feathers?   Either way, Isaiah was confused, overwhelmed and astonished at the sight of so much bewildering imagery, the immensity of his God experience that day.  And he was in despair.  Who could look at such a vision without recognizing that they were not worthy for such a thing?  Isaiah experienced profound doubt and shame being in the presence of the Holy. How could he see this when he was so flawed and uncertain, so acutely aware of his imperfections and his faults?  In other words, he was human and he struggled with imposter syndrome.  And he was in deep pain.  Woe is me, I am lost and live with people who are lost like me, in a world that is imperfect.

Can you relate? How many of you are feeling lost?  How many of you struggled with flashbacks when you heard that once again you might evacuate?  How many of you looked around your homes wondering what to pack, what to leave behind?  How many of you waited for that call, that knock on the door?  How many of you felt a lump in your throats or a tightened stomach at the thought of that long drive?  I can’t begin to imagine reliving that potential trauma. 

There are times when we find ourselves up against things over which we have no control.  Fires, floods, viruses and bacteria can disrupt our lives in unexplained ways.  We don’t know where to turn, how to respond, where we can go when we feel at a loss.  One of the hardest things to admit to ourselves is that we are not God.  Despite our best efforts, things happen.  We come to realize that we are not God, and that we don’t always know what’s best.  We say, “Oh Woe is me, I am lost.  I am not God and God is more than I can logically understand.  How can I be in the presence of the Holy?”

That is the question for us frail humans.  We are not God, we are not perfect or pure or almighty.  We have flaws, we make mistakes, we have failures from time to time.  We get hurt, and sometimes we hurt others.  How can we approach God?

Isaiah showed us how.  Just like an AA meeting, he named his vulnerability, and his flaws.  He recognized and confessed his pain.  “Hi, I’m Isaiah, and I’m a broken, imperfect human.”  And just like in AA, he found himself freed from all that self-centred concern and angst.  Just like in AA, he found himself accepted just as he was.  Just like in AA, he turned his life over and found he had a clean slate, not from any action he had taken, but by the action of God through the strange beings that worshiped God, saying Holy, holy holy.  And just like in AA, he found that he was called to help and serve others.  By being honest and vulnerable in front of the holy mystery that was above and beyond perfect description, he found healing and a new purpose.  Which is what Jesus may have been getting at when he was talking to Nicodemus.  Nicodemus was a man of high standing and influence in his community.  He was a public figure.  He had a lot of power and authority, and yet he was troubled and uncertain.  He came to Jesus for answers and Jesus searched for a metaphor that Nicodemus would understand.  Both scriptures point to the same thing. That the Holy is hard to approach when we are in pain or in trouble, but the Holy is always full of grace and healing for us.  And when we are ready to be as vulnerable as a child, as truthful and honest as Isaiah, we will be approached by God’s healing, purifying love.  It may burn and hurt like a red-hot coal to our lips, but it leaves us able to say, “Send me!” with joy and enthusiasm. 

Our Song of Faith describes God in ways that Isaiah would have loved: 

God is Holy Mystery, beyond complete knowledge, above perfect description.

Yet, in love, the one eternal God seeks relationship.

So God creates the universe and with it the possibility of being and relating.

God tends the universe, mending the broken and reconciling the estranged.

God enlivens the universe, guiding all things toward harmony with their Source.

With the Church through the ages, we speak of God as one and three:

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We also speak of God as Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, God, Christ, and Spirit, Mother, Friend, and Comforter, Source of Life, Living Word, and Bond of Love, and in other ways that speak faithfully of the One on whom our hearts rely, the fully shared life at the heart of the universe.


May we have the courage to be vulnerable to the Holy Mystery, and may we find deep healing and purpose in God’s loving action. Amen