Your Life Is Hidden

Crossing Boulevard with Rev. Rachel


‘Hidden’ is a word liable to ring an alarm in our cultural milieu. Somewhere along the way we got to lumping confidential, secret, private, sensitive, and so on, together in a pile. Into it we then staked this sign: I have a right to know. Transparency, please. 

If you have experienced the infrastructure (or lack thereof) in other corners of our globe, where it is nothing to bribe one’s way out of questionable-to-begin-with violation; or where those in power do not have to tell you why it is that their kangaroo court pretty much ensures you will be imprisoned indefinitely for a chameleon of a reason; then, you know. Transparency is a mighty jewel.

I wonder if we pay a price, though. Because the beauty of this notion of being hidden in God may be less prized than in bygone eras. On the whole, we are not those naturally inclined to want to wait for anything to be revealed.

And yet there are moments. [Grace can be counted on to break in and through.] This week, the idea that there was a portion of my reality not out there for all to dissect and analyze, but rather safe in the arms of God—this thought proved immeasurably sweet.

Watching my father acquiesce to incessant poking and prodding…catching a glimpse of the pre-kindergartener on the unit taking her morning walk, blanket pulled close to her heart, looking up to gently ask if they were almost there…aching for the teenager in the main lobby to whom care for the younger children had necessarily fallen…I felt for the first time in a long time, the protection in the promise.

We may not be used to thinking about our baptism as a death, in the way that Paul often speaks of it (v.3). But I think there are moments whereby we are blessed by the notion that through this metaphorical death, part of who we are gets tucked away with the one, the only one, who can scoop us to a place of care and comfort when faced with the gut-wrenchingly poignant, the overwhelmingly bittersweet.

What of you is hidden with Christ in God? What of us? Guarding it with all that we are and all that we have can be an upstream affair. But who are we if not those who rejoice in defying the graceless norm—those whose eyes of faith can see that the popular demand for full disclosure has not always had our best interest at heart?