Who Told Us We Were On Trial?

As a hospice chaplain, I've lost count of how many conversations begin the same way.

The moment someone learns I'm a chaplain, they start explaining themselves.

"Well, I haven't been to church in years."

"I know I should pray more."

"I'm trying to quit smoking."

"I know I drink too much."

"I've made some choices I'm not proud of."

The deeper question is:

Why do people feel the need to justify themselves all of the time?

Nobody says:

"Jeff, before we talk, I need you to know I haven't exercised in six months."

Nobody says:

"Jeff, I haven't balanced my checkbook in years."

Nobody says:

"I've been eating way too much ice cream lately."

But mention God, church, religion, or spirituality, and suddenly people begin presenting evidence for their defense.

What's fascinating is that most of these people still believe.

They're not arguing against God.

They're not rejecting faith.

They're explaining themselves.

Why?

Because religion often creates an internal courtroom.

People don't encounter a pastor.

They encounter a judge they've been carrying around for decades.

And they begin presenting evidence for their defense.

The reason this catches my attention is because I recognize it.

I spent years doing the very same thing.

Trying to determine whether I was qualified.

Close enough.

Spiritual enough.

Disciplined enough.

Worthy enough.

Looking back, I don't think most people are defending their behavior.

I think they're defending their belonging.

Beneath "I haven't been to church in years" is often a deeper question:

"Am I still welcome?"

Beneath "I've made mistakes" is:

"Am I still acceptable?"

Beneath all the explanations, excuses, and justifications seems to be a question many of us have been carrying for a very long time:

"Do I still belong?"

The older I get, the more I wonder if that's the real burden people are carrying.

Not guilt.

Not doubt.

Not even unbelief.

The fear of disqualification.

The fear that something we've done, failed to do, believed, stopped believing, or become has somehow placed us outside the circle.

The irony is that I spent years standing in that courtroom myself.

Not because anyone forced me to.

Because I believed I belonged there.

But lately I've been wondering something.

What if the goal was never to win the case?

What if the invitation was simply to walk out of the courtroom?

I'm still working on that one.