Upon entering Karla’s car this week, I counted that she has eleven face masks in her vehicle (not counting the package of disposable facemasks). Eleven. The number of disciples after the demise of Judas and before the addition of Matthias. E-Leven?!

I can assure you she is not Hyrdra (this is a reference to the Greek mythological creature that had nine heads). Even if she was some sort of socially distancing Hyrdra, she’d still have two masks to spare. I asked the logical question: Why does anyone need eleven facemasks in their motor vehicle?

Karla’s excuses (I mean explanation) included: some masks are her mom’s (legitimate excuse), some masks are for friends (the disposable ones) and the majority are waiting to be worn based on the outfit she is wearing. Apparently, the facemask is a fashion statement. Who knew? I grab a facemask based on which one looks the cleanest. Color, fancy designs and/or gospel messaging are not a deciding factor. My thinking in picking a face mask is: “This one doesn’t look like I used it as a Kleenex, in a war zone while cleaning my vacuum cleaner. I’ll take it.” 

File the previous few paragraphs under the heading: The Difference Between Men and Women in a Pandemic.

Why write about my wife’s eleven facemasks? No matter which hill you stand upon in the Great Pandemic Facemask Debate, we are all getting tired of wearing masks (I heard that “Amen.”). But here’s my desire and prayer: Long after the pandemic is in our rear-view mirror and masks are no longer required, may we also leave behind some of our other mask-wearing ways. I’m not talking about the cloth that covers our nose and mouth, but the masks we wear when we are not being our true selves. The masks we put on when we say, “We’re fine,” when we are hurting and need a friend. The mask we wear when we try to fit in with the crowd, and the other mask we put on when around our Christian friends. The mask that tries to communicate, “I’ve got everything together,” instead of the reality that is “I need Jesus.”

People have been wearing masks to cover up their true self long before Covid. Let’s remove those masks and be like Jesus. Paul’s instructions to the Galatians: All of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus (Galatians 3:26-27). Moreover, when life gets back to normal (and it will one day) instead of masks, let’s wear the attributes that Paul gave to the Colossians: As God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience (Colossians 3:12). 

Putting on Christ and wearing the attributes of Christ-likeness is what our world needs most—pandemic or no pandemic.