Practicing and Preaching
- Lauren Shaw, PhD
- Jun 27, 2016
- 3 min read
I have a fairly embarrassing story to share. Embarrassing might not actually be the right word. I have an unflattering story to share.
The other day I was having a conversation with my husband, talking through my thoughts and opinions on a decision I had to make. He strongly disagreed with me. He did not support the decision I had come to. He shared those thoughts and feelings in a really appropriate and respectful way. I didn’t want to hear it. I wanted him to listen to me, agree with me, and support my conclusion.
“I thought you wanted to know what I was thinking and feeling.”
Nope.
I know that is what I am supposed to want, given that I am supposed to be a relationally mature person and that I am a psychologist and all. But what I really wanted was complete, unhindered support and agreement.
Not super attractive, is it? I talk to people all the time about how important it is to work to hear and understand each other. I believe with every fiber of my being that it is important to actively listen and engage each other. And yet, I didn’t do it in that moment. I got mad that my husband didn’t agree with me and I shut him down.
There is a word for people who say one thing and do another.
Hypocrite.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how much easier it is to preach than to practice. So many times we know the right or best thing to do. We know that we should be patient and not yell, that we should go to bed at a reasonable hour, that we should speak kind words about other people instead of tearing them down. We know that we should eat more vegetables, put down our devices, and not internalize other’s negative opinions. We know all of these things, and we can encourage others down these paths. But we sure do struggle walk in them ourselves.
And sometimes we get so discouraged that what we practice and what we preach don't line up, that we give up. We stop practicing and we stop preaching. Or, we see where other people’s practicing and preaching are out of line, and we throw away everything that they are saying. You can’t trust a hypocrite.
We are all hypocrites. Every last one of us. And most of us are doing the best we can. So today, I want to encourage grace for the hypocrite. Grace for the one who says social media is a dangerous game and then gets lost in Instagram for hours at a time. Grace for the parent who has lots of ideas how to calm her friend’s tantruming toddler, and then goes to pieces when their own child melts down for the 17th time before 7 a.m. Grace for all of us who know the good we ought to do, who try to do it, and who don’t always get it right. Grace for each other and grace for ourselves. Grace.
Alongside that grace, I want to encourage vulnerability and honesty. The true destructiveness of hypocrisy is not in what happens when what we practice and what we preach don’t line up. The true destruction comes when we pretend that what we practice and what we preach line up perfectly and easily. That’s the real danger. So let’s acknowledge the truth. That we are trying, that we are learning, that we are growing, and that sometimes we mess up. And sometimes it’s ugly and unattractive. And that it is all a process and that sometimes it is really hard.
That doesn’t mean that the mess ups, the falls, the failures are not real or a problem. When I am dismissive of my husband’s thoughts and feelings, it’s a problem. What it does mean is that what I believe about relationships and communication are still true, and still worth striving towards. What it does mean is that I can still share those thoughts with others in gentle and appropriate ways.
When we practice something, we don’t get it right every time. Practice implies elements of learning and growth. I want to work on matching what I practice and what I preach as closely as possible, at extending grace to myself and others when they don’t match perfectly, and sharing what I have to share with honesty and humility. Those seem like things worth striving for.
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