Setting yourself up

We all claim something. We claim to be certain people. We claim to live certain lifestyles. We claim to have certain faith. With whatever philosophy we claim, whether personal or general, religious or noble, come expectations. When we say something, those around us are waiting for us to live up to it. We're setting ourselves up for observation. We've set up this image for others to have of us, and you better be picture perfect. They are watching to see whether the way you roll the dice lines up with the way you've written the rules. Lets call these rules "standards." We've given people a set of standards to expect us to live by. When our actions line up with our words, our "philosophies," they grant us credibility and we can go on living that way, hopefully holding ourselves to the same standards. When we fall short, its noticeable and embarrassing, another incentive to keep it up, to keep the crayons inside the lines.

But we have a little problem. Some of us are claiming something that just doesn't line up. We write rules to games we say we play, but in fact, we're not playing them at all. And the lines on the picture are blurred. We claim the same name but change the picture, our standards are broken, but by this point, whose following them anymore, right? What about those who are actually living according to those standards, that image of what they claim? They're left to try to explain why we, who claim the very same, aren't actually playing by the rules we say we hold to. They're left to deal with other people's questions and doubts. These other people doubt the credibility of our words because we've messed it up--we've led them to believe so much worse about our name, because we don't live up to what we claim. To clean this up we need up for the rest of them, there are two options: 1. take ourselves seriously and live up to our words or 2. stop saying things we aren't even trying to achieve. Those who are actually playing by their own rules will be much better off when the rest of us stop acting like we're doing the same and start taking the whole thing seriously and hold ourselves to the same standards we set out at the beginning of this whole shindig.

Now for a little of what I call Sierra's corner of useless words.
You say your home is where mine lies and you wish to set sail along my side. You step in the boat, take up your oar and find your place. We face a sea of difficulty, so let us row strong. We set out, on our way home, to the farther coast. Before we lose sight of the port behind we come to trouble. Our crew is strong, but trouble stronger. "Ahead!" we shout, "Lose not sight of Him!" We row strong, we row north, we strain. I look behind to see you, not rowing north, not rowing ahead. Did you not say your home was the same as mine, on the farther coast where He awaits? Why then, do you not row with us? Do you not wish to go home?