JILLIAN COLLETT | editor-in-chief

Vulnerability allows for times of growth and healing.

Last week, chapel speaker Greg Russinger had students in chapel stare at each other for 30 seconds so they could really see each other. The general consensus about this? Awkward and uncomfortable.

We have a huge fear, as Christians, that if we don’t put on our Christian face, our perfect persona, that other believers will look at us differently. We walk around armed with our “Jesus loves you” smile and our “God’s got it under control” grin, as if that’s what is required to fit in. And this fear is shockingly valid. I have seen many instances where friends of mine have let down their walls and they were smacked down and rejected. Out of everything that can be experienced in a time of brokenness, rejection should never be one of them.

One of the things that angers me most is the judgmental Christian. We all know those people – the ones who walk around spouting Bible verses and casting ‘holier-than-thou’ glances in the direction of the people who sit smoking on the curb. But what they don’t realize is that they are shining a horrible light on who Jesus is and what His love encompasses, and are stopping an opportunity for someone to feel comfortable opening up, seeking healing and finding solace in the love and acceptance of someone else.

“People have to be that perfect Christian,” senior psychology major Heidi Horn said. “In general people try and make themselves look like they are the best person they can be. Being vulnerable cuts through the insincere stuff and [allows you to] become genuine.”

I am the perfect example of the Christian smile. I walk through the campus with my big teeth glaring at everyone. “How ya doin, Jill?” “I’m fabulous. Woot!” I reply. But I have so much going on right now. The stresses of Senior Sem, The Clause, a looming graduation date, boy complications, a church plant and my constant fear of failure all sit on my shoulders like bricks. What if I replied to that friend of mine who always asks how I am doing with, “Actually? I am really stressed out and my life seems up in the air.”

I know. Even thinking about it freaks me out. It is that fear of being the person searching for attention; the person who can’t handle anything on her own. But how is that wrong? God calls us to share each other’s burdens and we need to allow that to happen so we don’t get so weighted down that our knees buckle. Opening up about things that are uncomfortable to you can have a huge impact on your life as well as on someone else’s.

When I was six, I was sexually molested by another kid who lived on my street. I had never told this to anyone until Sunday when I told a close friend of mine as we sat behind Bean Town. My hands physically shook from nerves as I told him and I could barely look at him when I was done talking. But when I finally glanced up I saw that how he looked at me hadn’t changed. All the feelings of guilt and embarrassment that flooded my body every time I remembered that incident were gone. There wasn’t any judgment, disgust or disappointment in his eyes. He simply looked at me with love and a sense of understanding – something I had desperately been searching for but hadn’t realized it until I felt it.

Revealing this to you, the reader, is in no way going to deepen our relationship. I will always be the girl with her goofy-glasses-picture plastered on the wall next to The Clause office, and you will always be the person who reads my extremely liberal, far too ‘stick-it-to-the-man’ thoughts in the Opinion section. But that is not why I am telling you.

It isn’t about me telling the student body. It is about the personal relationships that grow out of trust and vulnerability that would otherwise remain stagnant. It is about the ability for people to feel more able to drop their walls. It is about allowing God to finally use my story to be broken in front of someone else – and 4,200 someone elses – in hopes that it will be an instance of learning.

On a campus with so many students, it is impossible to be vulnerable with everyone. Looking into someone’s eyes for 30 seconds in chapel isn’t going to do much. But finding the relationships that lets you be honest and broken without fear of judgment brings healing and growth, and allows God to use every part of you for His glory.