In Lystra there sat a man crippled in his feet, who was lame from birth and had never walked. He listened to Paul as he was speaking. Paul looked directly at him, saw that he had faith to be healed and called out, “Stand up on your feet!” At that, the man jumped up and began to walk.

When the crowd saw what Paul had done, they shouted in the Lycaonian language, “The gods have come down to us in human form!” Barnabas they called Zeus, and Paul they called Hermes because he was the chief speaker. The priest of Zeus, whose temple was just outside the city, brought bulls and wreaths to the city gates because he and the crowd wanted to offer sacrifices to them.

But when the apostles Barnabas and Paul heard of this, they tore their clothes and rushed out into the crowd, shouting: “Men, why are you doing this? We too are only men, human like you. We are bringing you good news, telling you to turn from these worthless things to the living God, who made heaven and earth and sea and everything in them. In the past, he let all nations go their own way. Yet he has not left himself without testimony: He has shown kindness by giving you rain from heaven and crops in their seasons; he provides you with plenty of food and fills your hearts with joy.” Even with these words, they had difficulty keeping the crowd from sacrificing to them.

Whenever I read this, I am reminded of the classic film The Man Who Would Be King. The film is set in India during British colonial days and tells the story of two con-men seeking adventure and riches. Their search eventually leads them to a kingdom in the north where they subvert a village, form and train an army and proceed to dominate the region.

In one battle, one of the Englishmen is shot but is uninjured as the bullet fortunately is deflected by a medalion he is wearing. The locals immediately proclaim him a god, which suits the pair just fine because it aids them in their pursuits. It also ends up being their undoing, but I will let you watch the film yourself to see how it all plays out. (Sean Connery and Michael Caine both put in remarkable performances.)

How tempting it is to keep our mouths shut when we are mistaken for something we are not or when we are credited for something we were not responsible for. Even worse, our natural human tendency is to steal undeserved credit (and defer avoid deserved blame). Even technically true statements can be crafted to mislead.

If you do the research, you will find that Al Gore truly was instrumental in funding the development of what turned into the Internet, but his statement regarding inventing it was hyperbole – and he paid the price for it.

I still remember a job interview where I was talking about writing programs with a friend in High School. The interviewer asked what kind of programs and the example that slipped off my tongue was one that my friend actually wrote and then showed me. I felt uncomfortable with my answer, and that discomfort only grew as the interviewer asked more questions about this program I had supposedly written or at least collaborated on.

I did not feel like I could go back to start on this one so I said that it was years ago and I didn't remember too many details. I never intended to mislead, and still kick myself for not having the courage to backtrack...but I do take a little comfort in the fact that I did not get the job.

Which brings me back to Paul and Barnabus. Being mistaken for a god must be a pretty heady experience. (No, I've never experienced it myself.) Think of all the good they could have done with that kind of power. They could have ordered everyone to repent while setting themselves up with a healthy supplement to their tent making income.

However, they realized that failing to set the record straight had two very significant downsides: First, it would constitute blasphemy against God; Second, it would destroy their integrity and thus their ministry. They understood what their purpose was and they the right way to accomplish it. (And I bet their experience with Ananias and Saphira helped diminish the temptation.)

Even within the ordinary lives that most of us live, there will always be the temptation to appear as someone we are not. Glancing back on the content on my own blog, it may appear that I am a great Father and Husband. The truth is I strike out almost as often as I homer; I just don't write much about those experiences - probably because they are not pleasant to relive or share.

Repentance requires us to be honest with ourselves, and relationships never grow beyond the superficial until we are honest with those around us. It is possible to live in a pretend world with pretend friends, and it might even eliminate some of the pain that live invariably brings our way, but it also clips so much of what makes life meaningful.

It takes so much effort to keep the charade going, and like Daniel Dravot, the house of cards will eventually tumble. Why not at least have the fun of knocking it down yourself, and then get into the habit of living your real life?