Read Textual Sermon from Joel Osteen
Well, God bless you. It's a joy to come into your homes, and if you're ever in our area, please stop by and be a part of one of our services. I promise you, we'll make you feel right at home. And I like to start with something funny, and I heard about this burglar that broke into a home one night. As he was stealing the stereo, he heard a voice saying, "Jesus is watching you." He froze in his tracks, shined his flashlight, and saw a parrot over in the corner. He said, "Did you say that to me?" The parrot said, "Yes, I'm just trying to warn you." He said, "Warn me? What are you talking about? Who are you?" He said, "My name is Moses." The burglar laughed, said, "What kind of crazy people would name a parrot Moses?" He said, "The same kind of people that would name a 150-pound Rottweiler, Jesus."
Say it like you mean it. This is my Bible. I am what it says I am. I have what it says I have. I can do what it says I can do. Today, I will be taught the Word of God. I boldly confess my mind is alert, my heart is receptive, I will never be the same. In Jesus' name. God bless you.
I want to talk to you today about being vulnerable. It's easy to go through life trying to impress people, show them that we're strong, that we have it all together. And it's good to carry ourselves with confidence, but sometimes we have a need to keep up our image so much that, instead of being real, we put on a mask and start pretending. We can't let people see we have weaknesses. We struggle in these areas. We're people of faith. We're supposed to have all the answers. But the Scripture says God's power shows up greatest in our weaknesses. If we go around pretending, acting like we don't have any weaknesses, then God's power is not going to show up. God won't bless who you pretend to be. He looks beyond the mask, beyond the superficial.
When you're big enough to admit, "God, I don't have it all together. I'm struggling in these areas. I need your help," being vulnerable is not a weakness, it's a strength. But when we pretend and try to impress people, live for our image, that puts pressure on us. We have to perform and make sure they think, I'm good, I'm strong, I'm talented. Take off the mask. You can be real.
"Well, Joel, what if they think less of me?" What they think of you doesn't really matter. They don't control your destiny. If your friends judge you for being real, they're not true friends. A true friend will accept you for who you are—faults, weaknesses, shortcomings, and all. People that judge you are not being honest with themselves. They have their own issues. They're just wearing their mask, hoping that you don't notice. Everybody is dealing with something. There are no perfect people.
But we live in a society that stresses image. It tells us if we don't have it all together, if you don't wear the latest, drive the latest, hang out with the most popular, then you're less than. This creates all kinds of pretending. We're in masks, trying to impress, and that may feel strong, but in fact, it's weak. If you can't be honest with yourself, if you have to hide your struggles, act a certain way to keep up your image, that's going to keep you from your full potential. God is not looking for the ideal you, the pretend you, the future you; He's looking for the real you.
And this is what the Apostle Paul did. He said in Philippians 3, "I count not myself to have apprehended." One version says, "I'm still not everything that I should be." Now, Paul was one of the greatest apostles that ever lived. He wrote half of the books in the New Testament. He was a scholar, a theologian. He spoke five languages. No one was more effective than Paul, but he had the humility to admit, "I don't have it all together. I'm doing my best, but I'm not there yet." He could've let pride hide his weaknesses, mask his shortcomings, but he was vulnerable. Nobody would've argued if he'd said, "Hey, I wrote half of the Scripture. I've attained the highest level." Paul was a great man, but as he neared his death, when he could've impressed people, when he could've bolstered his image, instead he took off his mask. He was real. That's the kind of people God promotes.
There's power in vulnerability. It's okay to say, "I'm not there yet. I'm still struggling with these issues, but I'm not going to wear a mask. I'm not going around pretending. I'm at peace with not being perfect." If you're not vulnerable, you'll stop growing. If you can't be honest with yourself and say, "God, I need your help. I'm acting strong, but God, I'm afraid. I don't know which way to go," when you empty yourself out, then God will fill you. But God cannot fill a vessel that's already full. If you're full of yourself—acting (I said it nice), pretending, wearing masks—there's no room for God. But when we humble ourselves and empty out our pride, our doubts, our fears, then God will fill us with favor, with strength. He'll help us get to the next level.
Mark chapter 9: A man had a son that was sick with something like epilepsy. He brought him to Jesus and said, "Sir, my son has all these convulsions. If you can do anything, please have compassion on us." Jesus said, "If you believe, all things are possible." The man said, "Yes, Lord, I believe, but help me in my unbelief." He was honest. He was being vulnerable. Jesus could've said, "I just told you I'd do it. What do you mean you have doubts, you don't believe? I'm going to go find somebody else." No, when we're honest with God, when we're real, He doesn't judge us, He doesn't turn the other way, He comes to us. Jesus went and healed this man's son. When you take off the mask and get down to the real you—maybe the doubting you, the lonely you, the insecure you—when you're vulnerable, God will begin to change things.
But sometimes we think we have to always be strong in faith, strong in courage. We can't admit we have doubts, we have fears. The Scripture says, "Let the weak say, 'I am strong.'" It doesn't say you should never feel weak, never have doubts, never feel discouraged. No: "God, I feel weak today, but I know in You I'm strong. God, I'm concerned about my finances. I don't see how it could work out. Lord, help me to believe." That's being honest before God. That's being vulnerable.
The first time John the Baptist saw Jesus, he said, "Behold, the Lamb of God." He knew He was the Messiah. In Matthew chapter 3, John was baptizing Jesus. When He came up out of the water, a dove landed on Jesus, the heavens opened up, a voice boomed out, saying, "This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased." If anyone should've been a man of faith, it would've been John. He baptized Jesus. But a few chapters later, in chapter 11, when he was in prison, John started having doubts, thinking, "Is He really the Messiah? Is He really the Son of God?" John sent two of his disciples to see if Jesus was who He really said He was.
Now, you would think if you saw the heavens opened up, if you heard the voice boom out, you would believe, you wouldn't change your mind. But even John had doubts. Even he didn't have it all figured out. He was vulnerable. He could've said, "I baptized the man. I told people He was the Lamb of God. I can't let anyone know that I'm not sure now. I have to keep up my image. I have to wear this mask." John's attitude was, "I'm not a pretender. I'm not trying to impress people. Go ask Him if He's the Son of God."
What's interesting is Jesus didn't get upset. He didn't say, "Tell John he needs to have more faith. I'm disappointed in him." Jesus understood. He said, "Tell John the blind see, the crippled walk, the lepers are cured. Tell him yes, I am the Messiah."
So, when you have doubts, things you don't understand, don't be down on yourself. You didn't see the heavens open up. You didn't hear the voice boom out. John had all these signs, but it didn't disqualify him. God was not disappointed in John, and He's not disappointed in you. You may not be where you think you should be. You have these questions. It's okay to say, like Paul, "I haven't apprehended it all just yet. I'm on a journey. I'm growing. God's still working on me."
So often, we think we have to hide our struggles. We can't let God know our fears. That wouldn't be a person of faith. But you can't overcome a weakness if you don't get it out in the open. When you're honest with yourself and honest with God, and say, "God, help me break this addiction. I can't do it on my own. God, help me to not be jealous of my co-worker. Help me to be more disciplined in what I watch," that's the first step to getting better.
But sometimes, religion has taught us that God will condemn us, make us feel guilty. That's not the way God is. Like with John the Baptist, God understands our doubts, our weaknesses, our failures. And when we humble ourselves and ask Him for His help, when we're vulnerable, we say like Paul, "I don't have it all together." We say like John, "I have these doubts." We say like the man and his son, "Lord, help me to believe." That's when the Creator of the universe will help you overcome what you could not overcome.
Are you wearing a mask, pretending, trying to protect your image in front of people and in front of God? I'm asking us to take off the mask. Let's be real. Sometimes we think when we get it all together, we'll be honest. When we break the addiction, when we overcome the temptation, then God will accept us, then He'll be pleased with me. But God is not waiting for the perfect you, for the cleaned-up you, for the no-doubts you. He's waiting for the real you, the vulnerable you, the honest you.
God already knows everything about us. There is a freedom when you can come to God open and honest, knowing that He doesn't condemn you, He's not finding fault. He has mercy for every mistake, grace for every weakness, faith for every fear. Our attitude should be, "God, my life is an open book. I have nothing to hide. You know everything I am, everything that I'm not. Make me, mold me, help me to become who You've created me to be."
John chapter 4: Jesus was at a well in Samaria. This woman came out to get some water. Jesus asked her for something to drink. She was surprised. She said, "Sir, you're a Jew. I'm a Samaritan. We don't have anything to do with each other. Why are you asking me for something?" Jesus said, "If you knew who I was, you would ask me, and I would give you living water." She said, "Please, give me some of that water." Jesus said, "I will, but go call your husband."
I can imagine time stopped for this woman. She had had five husbands and was living with a man she wasn't married to. Life had been rough for this lady. No doubt, she had been mistreated, taken advantage of. She knew she had made mistakes. She felt bad enough about herself. She didn't need any more guilt. In town, everyone knew her. She was looked down on, made fun of. But out here at the well, alone, just her and Jesus, she could've thought, "I'm not telling this man my past. I'm going to put on my mask and pretend everything is fine." She could've said, "Okay, I'll go get my husband. Wait for me, I'll be back in 30 minutes."
Everything in her said, "Hide your hurts. Hide your failures. Turn and leave. Take the easy way out." She could've walked away, and it would be the end of this story. But after years of wearing a mask, years of pretending, she said, "No, this is a new day. I'm not making excuses. I'm not covering it up. I'm going to be honest." She said to Jesus, "I don't have a husband." The first thing Jesus said was, "You have answered well." He was saying, "Now you're being honest with yourself, and you're being honest with Me."
Jesus went on to tell her how she had five husbands and was living with this other man. She said, "Sir, you must be a prophet. We know one day the Messiah will come." Jesus looked at her and said, "I am the Messiah." The first person Jesus ever revealed Himself to as the Messiah was this woman—a woman who was vulnerable, a woman who was willing to take off the mask and not pretend everything was okay.
You may have made mistakes. You're not where you think you should be. God is not displeased with where you are. He's only displeased if you get stuck there. When Jesus asked this woman to go get her husband, He already knew she didn't have a husband. He was waiting to see what she would do. Would she be vulnerable? Would she take off the mask?
God already knows our struggles, our failures, our weaknesses. When we live open and honest before God—not guilty because of past mistakes, not beating ourselves up for weaknesses, not pretending that everything's okay—but saying, "God, I need You. Help me to overcome. Strengthen me in my weaknesses. Give me faith to do the right thing," that's when God will do for you what He did for this woman. He will break bondages that have held you back. He will make more out of your life than you've ever even dreamed.
What am I saying today? It's okay to be vulnerable. You don't have to have it all together. You're a work in progress. God is not finished with you. Even Abraham, the father of our faith, was vulnerable. He even admitted that he didn't have all the answers. God told him to take his son Isaac out to the mountains and sacrifice him. God was going to show him where to go.
I can imagine Isaac said, "Dad, where are we going?" Surely, Abraham would be strong, confident, but I hear Abraham saying, "Son, I don't know where. I don't have clear direction." Isaac must have thought, "That's my father. That's my hero, the man I look up to. You mean he doesn't have everything figured out?"
It's okay to be vulnerable to your children. You don't have to hide your weaknesses, hide your struggles. Take off your Superman outfit. Sometimes you just need to be Clark Kent. Just be real. Your children will learn more from how they see you handle your struggles than they will from your successes. You don't have to be strong all the time. Let them see your humanity.
One time in my early 20s, I was in the TV control area after a church service at the other location. My father had just finished ministering. Myself and some of the crew members were laughing and having fun as we were putting up the equipment and turning everything off. My father came in. For some reason, he thought we were making fun of something that had happened in the service. We weren't. We were laughing at something totally different. I tried to tell him it didn't have anything to do with that, but my father wouldn't hear it. He let us have it—told us how we should be more respectful and how we shouldn't make fun, on and on.
A couple hours later, my father called. He said, "Joel, I blew it tonight. I knew when you told me it wasn't what I thought, but I was uptight about some other things, and I want to ask you to forgive me. I'm sorry." Then he asked me for the phone numbers of everyone else in the room. There were seven or eight people. He couldn't sleep until he made things right.
I said, "Daddy, you can take care of it tomorrow. Nobody's going to mind." He said, "No, I need to do it right now." Eleven o'clock at night, this well-respected minister called all these young men to apologize to them. As a son, that spoke louder to me than my father's accomplishments. To see him swallow his pride and admit that he was wrong made a huge impression on me. He could've tried to protect his image and convince himself he was right, but he was vulnerable.
He was honest, not just with me, but with himself. When you can be honest with yourself, when you're big enough, secure enough to take off the mask, not live for your image, but you do the right thing when it's hard, apologize when it's not your fault, show your children you're big enough to admit that you were wrong—when you live transparent before God—not the fake you, the pretend you, the want-to-be you, but the real you—when you're vulnerable, you're pliable. God will make you and mold you into the vessel of honor that He created you to be.
And that's what these heroes of faith did: Abraham, John the Baptist, Paul. They were real. They had doubts, they had questions, they made mistakes. But they didn't pretend to be superhuman, like they had it all together. They knew the power of vulnerability. They knew, in their weaknesses, God's power shows up the greatest.
Are you down on yourself because you have doubts, fears, things you don't understand? Are you trying to perform perfectly to protect your image, to impress your friends, to show your children how strong you are? Why don't you take the pressure off? There is a freedom when you can be at peace with not being perfect, when you can say, like Paul, "I'm doing my best. I'm improving, but I'm not there yet. Joel, with my temper, I'm better than I was five years ago, but I'm not there yet." That's okay—you're making progress.
God said about John the Baptist, "There was no one any greater than him." This was about a man that doubted He was the Messiah, a man that had questions. Why are you beating yourself up over your weaknesses? Why are you trying to hide your struggles, thinking that it's disqualifying you?
The accuser whispers, "You still have that addiction? You should be ashamed of yourself. You lost your temper again? Go sit on the sidelines." Don't believe those lies. You may not have attained it all. You're not there yet. The good news is you're on the way. God's still working on you. What He started in your life, He's going to finish.
Genesis 25: Esau and Jacob were born. They were twins. Esau came out first, but Jacob was grabbing at his heels. Jacob grew up doing everything he could to get ahead. He was dishonest. He went around deceiving people. When his brother was hungry, instead of giving him something to eat, he traded Esau a pot of stew for his birthright. This was significant—the firstborn son received a double portion of the family inheritance.
When Jacob's father, Isaac, was near death and couldn't see, Jacob dressed up like his brother. He pretended to be Esau and tricked his father into giving him the blessing that belonged to the firstborn son. But when we don't do things God's way, what should be a blessing is not a blessing. When we deceive and manipulate, we may get to where we want to be, but it won't be what we thought. Jacob got the blessing, but for the next 21 years, his life was a struggle. He had to live in exile. He worked for his uncle Laban to get one of his daughters for his wife, but Laban was a bigger trickster than Jacob. He kept making excuses why he had to work longer. Jacob was reaping from all those seeds that he had sown.
I'm sure Jacob didn't like who he was. Deep down, he thought, "Look who I've become. I'm a con man. I'm a deceiver." After years, he decided to go back home and make peace with Esau. The night before they were going to meet, Jacob was camped out alone. This stranger shows up and starts wrestling with Jacob. The man was actually an angel. They wrestled all night. Jacob must have known there was something special, because he said to the man, "I'm not going to let you leave until you bless me."
The angel looked at him and said, "What is your name?" Jacob had spent his whole life deceiving, pretending. Years earlier, when he was trying to steal his brother's blessing, his father asked him the same question: "What is your name?" He said, "I am Esau."
This moment, Jacob had to decide, "Am I going to keep pretending? Am I going to keep wearing the mask, hiding my weaknesses? Or am I going to be real?" Now, I can imagine this debate took place a long time in his mind. He finally said to the man, "I am Jacob."
The name Jacob literally means deceiver. For the first time, he didn't try to hide his weaknesses. He was honest with himself. This man, the angel who represents God, didn't say, "Yeah, I know who you are. You're a con man. You should be ashamed of yourself." No, when Jacob took off the mask, when he got real, the angel said, "That's your old name. I'm giving you a new name. You are no longer Jacob. Now, you are Israel."
Israel means prince with God. When Jacob got honest, God showed him his true identity. He wasn't a deceiver—he was a prince.
At times, we've all worn the mask, gone around pretending, tried to hide our faults. But when we do like Jacob—when we get honest with ourselves, when we're vulnerable enough to admit, "I am Jacob. I have weaknesses. I'm struggling in these areas"—God doesn't condemn you. That's when He'll give you your new name.
The accuser will tell you, "You'll never change. Just keep pretending. Keep living guilty." That is not your true identity. God knows who you really are. Your new name is waiting for you. You are not Jacob. You are Israel. You are a prince with God. You are royalty. You are forgiven. You are redeemed.
When the accuser whispers, "Hey, Jacob," just say, "No thanks, you have the wrong person. I am Israel. I'm not who I used to be. I am a new creation."
Friends, this is a new day. I'm asking us to take off the mask, quit pretending, and let's go get our new names. If you'll do this, I believe and declare every force that's trying to stop you is being broken right now. God is going to mold you into a vessel of honor in Jesus' name.
If you receive it, can you say amen today?
I'd like to give you an opportunity to make Jesus the Lord of your life. Would you pray with me? Just say,
"Lord Jesus, I repent of my sins. Come into my heart. I make You my Lord and Savior."
Friends, if you prayed that simple prayer, we believe you got born again. Get in a good, Bible-based church. Keep God first place.
