The Great Unmasking

Everyone you meet and have ever met wears a mask. You do too. (And no, I am not talking about the current pandemic.) From the time we were children, we have been taught that certain things were acceptable and certain other things were definitely unacceptable. For example, when confronted with infuriating people or situations in which our will was thwarted, sarcasm was acceptable. Falling to the floor, flailing about, and screaming (aka having a temper tantrum) was unacceptable. It took us a while to learn this (ask any parent about “the terrible twos”), but eventually we all figured out this distinction and now when confronted with infuriating people or frustrating situations, we opt for sarcasm, not tantrums. Tempting as it sometimes is, we decide not to indulge our inner child and fall to the floor screaming. But (let’s be honest) often we want to.

That is, we have learned to wear a mask. On the outside of the mask we are adults, persons who can be sarcastic at times, but are still patient and long-suffering in the face of infuriating frustration. Behind the mask, somewhere safe deep within, we are still two years old, and we want to fall to the floor when provoked. There are many other things we have learned to keep behind the mask besides feelings of rage: lust, disdain, hatred, contempt, and a host of other passions which would cause us endless mortification if anyone knew about them. Our lives are studded with thousands of petty hypocrisies which mar our hidden souls, but few people know about them. Perhaps saints who have reached apatheia and passionlessness have no such dramatic differences between their inner man and their outer behaviours, but most people reading this post suffer from this spiritual split-personality, and hide it behind a mask.

That is what makes the Last Judgment so fearful. It is not just that Gehenna and hell-fire await some and the paradisal Kingdom of God awaits others. What even the saved should find fearful is the fact that on that day the full light of truth will flood the world and sweep away all the shadows in which we have always lived. Then it will be time to remove our masks, to discover how our voices really sounded, how our actions really looked, and what sort of persons we really were. As the Lord’s parable of the Sheep and the Goats in Matthew 25 shows, there will be surprises for pretty much everyone.

When we reach that judgment and the time for the great unmasking arrives, it will be too late to re-write our past and attempt to present a better face behind the mask. Life has no rewind button, and what’s done is done. If we have lived a life of heedless hedonism and spent our time running away from God and toward sensual pleasure, it will be too late then to do anything to fix it. We will be like Esau, who after selling his birthright for a single meal, “found no place for repentance, though he sought it with tears” (Hebrews 12:17).   Now is the time to begin fixing our face, so that when the mask finally falls, it will cause us less grief.

But how do we fix our face? By daily examination of conscience and private confession to God in our prayers. Before stumbling into bed at night, we should spend some time remembering our day, noting the things we did well and the things we did badly. As we confess the latter and find mercy with our compassionate Lord, we cultivate a habit of inner watchfulness, of paying attention to the little twists which mar our souls. That allows us to untwist them, and try to do better the next day.

Life has a way of rushing us forward heedlessly at break-neck speed, and of being so preoccupied with The Next Exciting Thing that we have no time to look back over the day just past. It is not simply that we rush through life too quickly to smell the roses—we also rush through it too quickly to smell ourselves. We need to stop and smell, and examine, and confess. Of course we will still suffer from blind-spots and miss things. But we will catch things too, and have the opportunity to find healing and create some inner beauty behind the mask. None of us knows when the Last Judgment will come, or even when death will take us away and deprive us of the opportunity to repent and reform ourselves. There is no sense in waiting. The time for repentance is now. Let us drop the mask for a bit and examine our faces tonight.



  1. Thank-you for this important post.

    I’ve frequently said that I like Kalomiro’s River of Fire, and I get the feeling that many people assume that I advocate or desire for some sort of universalism. Yet what has always bothered me about the Standard Model as presented here in the West is not the separation of the sheep and goats, but our understanding of how that separation takes place.

    And that’s where this post comes in.

    Yes, Christ has done the work, and yes, to an extent our participation can be seen as the acceptance of that work. But that participation shouldn’t be seen as mandatory because of an angry God. Rather, it should be seen as preparation. Preparation for a life when the mask will be burned away, and I must live with whatever’s left. Honestly, right now, I’m not ready.

    Thank-you Fr.

  2. Matthew,
    I have often seen much of what you do, but recently I have begun ro see that my submission to His mercy is done through my sins. That is the fire, perhaps?
    It is not even about being ready. You have said yes. He will allow you to drink of His mercy to the extent you are able.

  3. Michael,

    Don’t assume that “by preparation” I mean that some advanced degree program, or monkish apprenticeship need be pursued.

    I merely mean that when all the masks are burned off, and there’s nothing left but me standing in the presence of the all consuming fire of God’s love, that my heart is purified like the gold in a refiner’s fire, and does not become black and ugly like the impure dross that’s drawn out and cast aside into the ashes of what remains. That when my friends tell me to “Curse God and die”, that I will instead ask, “will you remember me in Paradise?”

    “You have said yes.”

    Ah, yes, right here, right now, I have. But right now it’s easy. I’m well fed, and slept warmly last night. In a year will I still do so? What about two years? Or maybe a decade? That is the preparation of which I speak – the abiding habit of saying “Yes” without even a second thought, no matter the circumstance. Also, the strength to stand up when I stumble, and to be (not act – that would be a mask) humble when others would boast.

  4. Matthew, it all starts with the first ‘yes’ and even one ‘yes’ will not be forgotten. His mercy is the fire, at least in some accounts.

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