Accountability

her·e·tic
Pronunciation: 'her-&-"tik
Function: noun
1 : a dissenter from established church dogma;
2 : one who dissents from an accepted belief or doctrine

Two other guys gather into my living room whilst our wives meet elsewhere; each group forming a conclave of trust as our children sleep. Tension veneered with relaxed indifference is peppered with small talk; catching-up since we’ve last met. Each us know why we were here, but none of us want to openly admit the reason for needing this, or each other, as badly as we do. Drinks are offered, cushions rearranged on suddenly uncomfortable couches, conversation draws to silence, and someone suggests we get started. Somehow I’m nominated to open us in prayer.


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Lord Jesus, thank-you for bringing us here tonight, safely. We pray that you’ll watch over our wives as they meet also. Father, we offer this time to you to be made more like you. As we share our lives together, speak into us and through us. Make us more into the men you’ve created us to be. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.

Nervous looks dart around the room like a frightened mouse. For a second the silence continues, but finally I offer it up, ‘Ok, I’ll go…’. And so begins the fortnightly accounting of my life. The good, the bad, the ugly, the spiritual, the not-so spiritual, the victories, the down-right sinful, and all the inner workings of my thoughts and actions.

In the days before we meet my stomach turns knots, trying somehow to hold within itself all that it is about shed. My soul writhes like a snake overgrown beneath the sin enveloping it, choking and restraining it. In order to grow further, the old skin needs to come off. But the process is painful, and it takes time, and it leaves you open and vulnerable. Like picking at dry flaky scales, prayer offers some relief. It at least calms me to the process, knowing that the get-together is in itself growth towards holiness. Every time we meet, a little bit more comes away.

We start by recalling our memory verses – something we’ve chosen to teach us, build us up, or correct our thinking. One by one we recite our latest scripture, with reference, each trying to out do the others with length, complexity and flawless repetition. Even here a guy’s competitive nature is not put aside! One falter, and there are sideways glances, half encouraging, half hoping to have at laugh at your less than perfect memory. The ice broken, we move on to more serious matters.

The usual stuff is talked about. How are we treating our wives? Our children? How is our time with God, one-on-one? Are we making the best of our resources? Is our thought life in line? What’s going on at work? Nothing is forced out – I’m free to choose what I share. My guys know they can ask anything, and equally I can say, ‘Don’t go there. I don’t want to talk about that.’ But we’re here to open ourselves, to get deeply into each other’s lives. What stays hidden stays unchallenged, and easily festers, infecting the good that remains in us.

We talk things through, mull things over, and generally challenge each other and ourselves on what we do and how we think. I often feel as though my metal is not iron, but yet we seem to sharpen each other.