Unknown's avatar

Surprise? Trials and Traffic in Orlando

The other day I headed to a fundraising seminar in Orlando. At 10 am. So the 2 and 1/2 hour trip from Bradenton had to start a bit early due to the lovely Orlando traffic. I did what I could to beat it, and I did for the most part. But there times when the proverbial Grandma with a walker could have passed me (a la Office Space).

Traffic is frustrating, but it is inevitable, particularly in Orlando. Because I left so early, preparing for the worst, it didn’t bother me nearly as much. But there was something else in my favor: it didn’t surprise me. It didn’t come out of nowhere. I-4 in the morning always has bad traffic. If I choose to drive through Orlando, I will hit traffic. The very expectation of traffic lessened my frustration. Could I really be mad that I was sitting in traffic on I-4 on a weekday morning?  Would that have made any sense? Should I have been surprised?

Dealing with trials, particularly when you are doing something good or right, becomes less difficult when not caught by surprise. When I’m caught by surprise, I get angry or begin despairing. Or I want to stop doing what I did (helping when helping gets me hurt).

Doesn’t God love me? Don’t I have enough to deal with now? God is giving me the shaft! What did I do wrong? Didn’t I love that person well now and he/she did this?

The health and wealth prosperity gospel preachers would have you believe that if God is pleased with you, it will show up in all kinds of blessings. Mostly physical or financial, but all now.

Sadly I think I believe those jokers more than I believe what God says through His apostle. I’m more often than not surprised by suffering. This isn’t supposed to be happening to me!  At least much more than I admit. But I Peter 4:12 reminds us

“12 Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.”

Can I really be surprised, and filled with anger, when trials happen? Suffering and Orlando traffic shouldn’t surprise us.

Yet according to Peter, there’s really nothing morbid about driving through life, as though you are always on the lookout, trying to prepare yourself for every suffering. Kind of like the way you might think “accident” every time you see break-lights on the interstate. Instead of being surprised (and the concomitant anger or despair), we can rejoice. Rejoice?

13 But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.

At Christmas time we enter a time of celebration (though not only celebration but also longing). God did not leave us to suffer alone, but instead came to suffer with us. But not only as an example of sympathy; it was much more than that. Jesus became our substitute for us. Suffering is temporary but His glory is forever, and we are part of that glory in Him. He loves his little brothers and sisters.

Sometimes we need to hear those angels singing a little louder “Glory to God in highest…”

His glory was revealed, continues to be revealed, and will fully be revealed one day. At that time we won’t need reminders to rejoice. Until then we do. May we all hear the angels a little louder this Christmas. And may we gladly join them even as we go through trials that our Savior has already walked through before us. And for us. And now we are in Him.

If this Christmas presents particular sadness, I pray the hope of Christ’s first and second comings will remind you that God cares about your suffering so much that He suffered for you that you may share in His glory.

Unknown's avatar

Pastors aren’t “here to pump you up”

One of the more influential churches in the New Testament  period was that of Antioch. Now I don’t have any idea how many folks they had coming on Sundays, how many services or how big their building was, how many youth they had in youth group, how many programs, etc…I’m of course being a little facetious because I’m not sure they had a building other than someone’s house.

But if you want to consider the health of a church, look at the fruit of the church. Is it loving, patient, kind, gentle, pursuing godliness, resting in Christ, reaching out to neighbors, concerned for missions, etc….? When it comes to being outward focused, or what I often call “missional” (people use that term differently, I’m aware), no church seems to match that of Antioch.

Two of the more “famous” missionaries to be sent out were Barnabas and Paul. You probably have heard of the latter.

Our last core group meeting centered on the need for pastor and church folk to recognize our functions. In Ephesians 4:10-16, we see Paul reminding us that pastors “equip” church folk for the “works of ministry.” Instead of simply “doing” the “works of ministry,” pastors “equip” the “saints” for the “work of ministry.” When the parts of the body are equipped and working properly, the body then builds itself up in love. That’s not a novel concept, since it’s found in the bible, but it is probably novel to many. Christians have the responsibility to seek to be equipped so that they can build up the body. Having a rock-star pastor will not build up the body toward maturity; that is the job of equipped saints investing in each others lives.

So in other words, pastors, in the words of Hans and Franz, aren’t here to “pump you up.” We’re here to equip you to “pump each other up.”

We reasoned that if a church can’t build itself up (pump each other up) in love unless the saints are equipped and doing the work of ministry, neither could a church be birthed without saints doing the work of ministry.

One such example is the church in Antioch. In Acts 11, you can see that “those who were scattered because of the persecution that arose over Stephen traveled as far Phonecia, Cyprus, and Antioch…..men of Cyprus and Cyrene, who on coming to Antioch spoke to the Hellenists also preaching the Lord Jesus.”

These aren’t the 12 disciples; these are regular guys and gals with Jewish backgrounds who came to Jerusalem as Jews, and left as Christians. They had to leave, but they left and preached the gospel wherever they went. After the church in Jerusalem got word, they sent Barnabas and then more wore added. Barnabas then grabbed Paul and they taught and equipped the saints.

But the church was born because church folk (aka “saints”) simply did the early work of ministry, sharing the gospel and gathering people together. Then the pastors/teachers came to teach/preach to more of their friends, see them come to faith, and equip them. Before too long, Paul and Barnabas were sent out to church plant.

Of course Paul and Barnabas no doubt networked, evangelized, and gathered folks. But they were doing what the church was already doing before they arrived. They were co-laboring and the result was “more were added.”

One of the most influential early churches was started by laity evangelizing, gathering, and inviting their friends. It might be a good idea follow the same m.o. to plant a healthy influential church today.

Unknown's avatar

Trusting the dentist

I made my first trip to the dentist last week since returning to Florida. After the X-rays, everything seemed good. No issues. Score. That is until the dentist came in, blew some air on my teeth, I reacted, and then he broke the news that I had a little cavity. Bummer.

Fortunately only a $60 dollar fix, and I would just need to come back in a few days. Like a parolee without a real reason to flee, I turned myself into the authorities to let them get to work.

After numbing me up, and without much explanation, they got rolling. So I daydreamed about the upcoming next few months of our church plant, so as not to waste any time. What else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t see anything. They didn’t give me a mirror-which was a good move on their part. I don’t think watching a dude drill out parts of your teeth could make one’s day any better.

So there I was, unable to see anything. Unable to feel anything, so I guess that means they could have been doing anything. And of course, not being well versed on dentistry procedures, I had no clue what they were even supposed to be doing.

Yet I sat there without a concern in the world, totally trusting the dental team. I couldn’t see what they were doing, yet I knew they were doing something that I really needed. I trusted that they were doing something good, but I had no immediate evidence to support such a thought. And I couldn’t feel that they were doing anything good.

Did these people really care about me? Now the dentist was nice. And a fisherman. I like those kinds of people a lot. I really do. But he didn’t know me, and he probably has good malpractice insurance (if something went wrong). Yet I trusted him. Without even thinking about it whether trusting him was a good idea or not.

Then it hit me. If I can trust a dentist to work in my mouth even though I can’t see him at work-and have no idea what he’s really doing-then should it be that much of a leap to trust God when I can’t see what He’s doing? Even though I can’t often see what God is doing (He, like the dentist doesn’t often see fit to give me a mirror), should I have any less reason to trust Him?

Should I trust the dentist more than I trust God? Does it even make sense to do so?

This metaphor will not necessarily make me trust God more in the future. And in and of itself, it won’t make you either. But perhaps, it is good to see the irrationality of doubting that God is at work even when we can’t see Him at work.

It never hurts to see the irrationality of doubt or the silliness of anger (a la Jonah). And to see it often. Perhaps Romans 8:29-that God will work all things out for the good of those who love Him-makes more sense to me now.

At least it makes a little more sense to trust God, since He is better, more loving, more sacrificial, more invested, and more committed to me than a pretty dang good dentist.

Unknown's avatar

When you unintentionally scatter

I’ve been spending my morning devotional time in the book of Acts (thought it might be helpful in planting a church to look at how the church was born and grew) and today came across a familiar passage. But since we’ve been discussing as a church the importance of the church as a “gathered and scattered” called-out group of people united by common vision (more than a group united by a building and a Sunday service), I enjoyed seeing another example of “scattering.”

Sometimes, and probably more often than not, “scattering” is intentional. Christians aren’t to gather 24/7. We gather for worship, fellowship, discipleship, etc…But much of our time is spent at work, home, neighborhoods, hobbies, activities. When we do so, we are to be intentionally looking compassionately at people wherever and whenever we intentionally scatter.

But we see in Acts 8 that the early church didn’t intentionally scatter much until they were forced to scatter via persecution. Now they sure did have a “scattering feel” to their fellowship time. But it seems that few really scattered until they were forced to scatter. Or you could say scatter unintentionally.

In America, we don’t have to literally scatter because of persecution. Yet we do often scatter unintentionally. Sometimes it may be a job transfer or a loss of job, and as a result scattering may be literally, and largely,  a geographical change of scenery. And highly unintentional. The takeaway from this passage is that the early church seemed to preach Christ wherever and whenever they were unintentionally scattered. Despite being forced to different locations (unintentional), they intentionally looked around them. They simply saw who was there and who needed Christ.

But sometimes unintentional scattering may be less geographical. Sometimes God continues to put people in your path that you wouldn’t normally think about loving and moving towards. Sometimes you find yourself unintentionally in places like Teeball three nights a week (not sure there is need for practice when there are literally no rules; I actually do have fun but it is 100% about building relationships and not skill development for Connar). Or a baby comes and changes the schedule. Or certain people continue to invite you to do things and you don’t know why. Or you keep seeing the same person time and again. Or for time constraints or various other reasons,  you’ve been scattered to different places and spaces, among different people, or different kinds of people (sometimes not kind).

This is what I call unintentional scattering.

The application from this passage is to be on the lookout wherever you go. Whether you intentionally scattered or unintentionally scattered, the Sovereign Lord has put you there for a reason. Let us be looking, even if all around us is unfamiliar territory or unfamiliar folks. The gospel spread and continues to spread not only by intentional scattering but also informal unintentional scattering. Both are equally as important. The destination or how you got to that destination is far less vital than your “looking” when you get there.

Unknown's avatar

Insecurity is often Incognito

In case you haven’t heard about the supposed bullying case involving the Dolphin’s offensive lineman Richie Incognito and Jonathon Martin, already, you can read a little bit about it here, where the GM allegedly tells Martin to punch Incognito for bullying.

Whether positive or negative, one result of this high profile issue, is that it has opened the door for discussion on the sports talk radio shows. It’s a time when the morality of sports life takes front stage and opens up the door for everything from a can of worms to a can of whoop@#$.

Most of the discussion didn’t center on whether or not this was actually a case of bullying (although I heard today this was more classism than racism), but how one should respond when that happens. At any level.

Report: Jim Rome, who’s worldview I would describe as moralistic temporary karmic, thought that Jonathon Martin did the right thing and report it. After all, what if he did fight back? Could anything good come from that? End Incognito’s career, his career, assault charge, etc? From a pragmatic perspective, he could not be more accurate. Practical thing is to report it.

Fight Back: This was also present, and when there were two hosts, opinions seemed opposite. Fight back and be a man. That’s what you do. Then the bullying will stop. And you will have shown you are worthy of respect.

Rome’s best contribution to the discussion was his claim that not everything is black and white (do this and that will result). It’s not a simple issue. And it’s not a simple result. When grown men physically fight each other, I’m not sure the results are the same as on the playground in grade school. Such problems compound themselves not solve themselves.

But another question one host raised seemed to go a little deeper: is standing up, fighting back, of the essence of being a man? Or a follow-up question (from me) is self-control at the heart of being a man or is defending yourself physically when another is verbally abusing you?

Why is it important to start with belief? Because among other things, you always act according to your beliefs. Here’s a fairly apropos verse from I Peter 2.

21 To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps.

22 “He committed no sin,
    and no deceit was found in his mouth.”[e]

23 When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly. 24 “He himself bore our sins” in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; “by his wounds you have been healed.”

What did Jesus do for me? He suffered for me. He also gave me an example of what do when people verbally insult me-though one needs to read more of the context to get that. But why was Jesus able to do so? Because of his belief: “entrusting himself to him who judges justly.”

Jesus deferred justice to God the Father.

Jesus was judged unjustly so that we could be judged justly. So while he left us an example, he first and foremost initiated justification. His death on the cross shows me all the respect in the world. I don’t need your respect-though I often feel I do (disbelieving the gospel) because he has already provided that. In addition, if I entrust God to judge my bullies, I can go to the civil authorities and trust that God will use them to protect me. If not they will have to give an account.

I don’t have to fight back in order to “show some respect” or be a “man.” I don’t have to prove something to you in order for you to respect me. We’re made in the image of God and that’s enough (James 3) to warrant you not verbally bullying. Of course you build respect before others by what you do over time, but you have to start with the respect that God gives you or else you’ll simply do things to manipulate others into liking you (including physical violence).

We really probably have no idea of what all went on. And Martin’s parents are both lawyers, so he surely operated from their legal counsel. But instead of discerning what Martin should have done, and whether or not Martin is blameless in this, or if it all lays on the lap of Incognito or Dolphin coaches, the best question to ponder is what does it mean to be a man, or to have “self-respect.” If grounded in the gospel story, then I don’t HAVE to fight back. Now I may, and you may, but I would argue that if you or I truly believe, we won’t have to do so. Is the ability to take criticism and not respond impulsively (physically) a bit more masculine and respectable?

Instead of only preparing yourself for what you would do in that situation, it’s probably just as important to prepare yourself to not HAVE to succumb to your emotions and literally throw the first punch. You have the power not to do so (Romans 6:14) and have been stripped of the sense of needing to do so as well.

You could really argue that fighting back, showing you’re a man, showing you’re worthy of respect, is really insecurity dressed incognito. Incognito.

Unknown's avatar

Lessons from Loving Nazi’s

Every now and then I’ll come across and article that is far better than I ever anticipated. This is one.

It has a little to do about baseball, since the 1946 World Series pit the Cardinals and Red Sox against each other. And I recognize this blog post would have been more apropos if constructed a week or so ago. But this is just flat out thought provoking and heart moving, heavy and hopeful, encouraging and challenging.

For the last 11 months, they had served as the chaplains at Nuremberg prison in Germany, offering spiritual counsel to the first Nazis to be tried for war crimes in the rubbed-raw wake of World War II. Among their flock were architects of genocide, responsible for the murder of many millions, most of them Jews.

Can you imagine being a chaplain for such criminals? I’m a fairly avid reader of WWII history, and its hard for me to have any compassion on such people this far removed from it all. I can’t imagine being there.

Here are a few takeaways from the article. Read it. You’ll be glad you did.

1.) The very fact that such folks were even offered chaplains reveals to us that someone held to a core belief that no one is beyond redemption.  If you have a hard time believing that-which I really do-this article will reaffirm that truth.

2.) Love moves toward the unlovely. Jesus always moved towards those deemed unworthy of love: cheaters, liars, sexually immoral, unclean, ugly, disabled, marginal.

3.) Love is costly. A woman once told me that she brought in a needy little girl into her house and then became infected with lice. Obviously this wasn’t the way it was supposed to work, according to her property gospel thinking. But such couldn’t be farther from the truth. If you love well, you will will enter into into others mess and you will get messy. The chaplains heard confessions of the deepest atrocities. This took a toll. It hurt. It weighed heavy. It cost them much to love such folks.

Bonds developed, as did a fear among the inmates that Gerecke was planning to go home. This meant that a woman in St. Louis received a letter one day from 21 accused war criminals in Nuremberg, explaining how vital her husband’s presence and counsel were to them.
“Therefore, please leave him with us,” the Nazis wrote to Gerecke’s wife, Alma. “We shall be deeply indebted to you.”
The letter closed with: “God be with you.”
Alma Gerecke quickly sent a message to her husband: “They need you.”

4.) Loving some people means that you have to make the conscious choice to delay loving others. We all do this, I just don’t think we realize it. But in this story, it is pronounced. One of the chaplains was to be sent home, but the inmates begged her to let him stay. She obliged. Can you imagine being put in that spot? What would you do? He had to make a choice. The beauty is that his wife gave her blessing. But the cost was that he had to delay seeing his beloved wife. We cannot love some well without choosing to delay loving others. Spouses and families take priority, but they cannot take all of our attention. Unlovely needy neighbors (or in some cases bitter enemies) need Jesus and someone to love them. Yet if the spouse and family members are all on board with God’s mission, we can “loan” our loved ones out, and delay the love we receive for a little while. This fellowship from a distance is what Paul often refers to as “koinonia.” Sometimes we really can fellowship from a distance. Across the pond or across the town.

 5.) Loving others in a costly way will lead them to love you back. While there is a cost, there is also a blessing. Such war criminals, well, some of them, really loved him back. As a result of his labor, we’ll probably see some of these same folks again some day.

While cleaning out the pastor’s office shortly afterward, his eldest son, Hank, came across an envelope jammed with hate letters that his father had received but never mentioned.
“They were the worst things I ever read, directed at my father because of his duty at Nuremberg, calling him a Nazi,” Hank Gerecke, 92, said.

6.) Loving others who are unlovely and “unworthy” will lead others to not love you. It will lead them to hate you. If people have never tasted the grace of the gospel, we cannot expect them to understand why anyone would love such “unworthy” people. Jesus love drunkards and therefore was called a drunk. He was actually called much worse. If people question you for loving others, then listen. But remember, if people think you’re nuts or a Nazi, for loving nuts or Nazi’s, then there’s a good chance you’re doing something right.

 

Unknown's avatar

When you just can’t sing….

IMG_1863

The other day I had the chance to speak for chapel at Bradenton Christian School. My audience was Kindergarteners-5th grade and those little jokers paid better attention than many adults I’ve tried to teach before (not saying its always the listeners fault though!).

Before I got up to speak, we spent a little time singing. I was in the back so I couldn’t tell how much my Kindergartener was “participating.” I was holding my 3 year old boy Cade, as I swung my hips to the music. Just kidding. No swinging or swaying, that I can remember.

Yet I do try to have my kids participate in what they can. Since they haven’t mastered the whole reading thing, I’ll often softly speak the next lines when they are simple enough. I did that for a song with which Cade has some familiarity, I believe it was 10,000 Reasons.

No dice. Cade just didn’t have any “song” in him that day. So I simply held him as I sang. He rested in the arms of his father, knowing he didn’t have to sing. I would hold him regardless. And it was I who sang for him. Who sang over him, even when he didn’t feel like singing. And strangely, or maybe not so strangely-the gospel flips everything on its head-that was enough. Just being there.

I think its always a good thing to sing, even when you don’t feel like it. Bless the Lord O my soul. Sometimes you have to sing to tell yourself what is ultimately true. And often what you sing has the power to shape what you see.

Yet there are times when there is simply nothing in the tank. And it is at such times that we don’t want to show up to a church, much less sing.

Still, the church is the best place for us. Still, even when we don’t want to sing. I think sometimes, when all you’ve got in you is to stand, or sit, among brothers and sisters in the faith, that’s enough. When there is no gas in the tank, picture your Heavenly Father holding you. Singing over you. Even dancing, as crazy as that may sound (Zeph 3:17).

His voice is enough for the both of you.

Unknown's avatar

Vertical Horizon, pop, and contextualization

vhimages

In my college days, one of my-and many of my classmates-favorite bands was Vertical Horizon. They were the quintessential college band. College kids like to think they are different, somewhat free-thinkers, not sucked into the mainstream. Two guys with acoustic guitars and deeper lyrics were all that were needed to satisfy the college fan. It was simple. It was cheap. They toured in bars, and even played at Furman once during our orientation.

But they probably didn’t make a bunch of money.

They added an electric guitar to their formerly acoustic songs and began to become a bit more famous. They had found a way to become relevant to a wider audience, slightly altering their form, without changing their content. Vertical Horizon reached more people this way: the “older” crowd who had already listened to them, but they also seemed to gain more traction with new fans.

But that wasn’t enough. In order to become more popular and make more money, they had to be more like what the pop culture expected them to be.

Soon the acoustic guitars were totally replaced with electric guitars. The guitar solos, which had become a staple, were turned into a paper clip. Shorter or non-existent. The sound was more “produced” and polished. Of the two lead singers, the one more “folk-ish” was left out and the more “pop-ish” vocalist took front stage. Lyrics were as shallow as a sandbar on low tide. The dudes began wearing leather pants and growing flavor savers.

They crossed over into the dark world of “pop” music. I’m guessing they made some fans. I’m guessing they made some money. But they pretty much lost all that they had before.

I recently downloaded some of their music on noisetrade.com. It comprised a compilation of old and new stuff and so runs the gamut of their material. What a contrast.

Vertical Horizon gives the church a good picture of contextualization, both good and bad. When they were young, they had content. Good content. And it was probably their preference to stick with the acoustic guitars. But they decided to add an electric guitar, yet keep the same over-all style of music. The lyrics didn’t change, nor did the guitar solos. The content was there, but the form was slightly different.

I believe a church has the freedom to adapt its form to different settings. That is why a church with the same content may look quite different than a “sister” (same denomination) church in a different location. The core message is the same, but they may have chosen to add an “electric guitar” to it. Or an “organ,” or “strings,” “brass.” Of course this could be a literal addition as in worship. Or it could be taken figuratively, as in a type of leadership style, how a church does mercy or outreach or community groups or Christian Education. Keeping the message the same, how will a church choose to best reach its specific area with its specific strengths, weakness and idols.

When I was out fishing the other day, my buddy asked me, “Well what is your church’s stance on _______?” I had to give the unpopular answer. Because I believe it..

Vertical Horizon departed from their original content to simply reach more people. They crossed over the line and never looked back.

That is called over-contextualization, compromising and changing the message to what is most palatable to the wider culture. Form is one thing, content is another.

Vertical Horizon pretty much lost all of their earlier fans. I don’t know exactly what they gained to sacrifice the message. It might have worked out for them.

But when a church or denomination over-contextualizes, it will always lose. If it tries to become more popular by answering the hard cultural questions with popular answers, it will die a slow death. Or fast.

The churches which answer the question my friend posed me with the popular answer are all dying off. When a church loses its distinctiveness, when it departs from loving, ministering to, but challenging its local culture to simply affirming everything in it, it is simply just another club. That is why most main-line denominations who’ve simply answered culturally sensitive questions by capitulating to what is popular are in massive decline.

Contextualizing is good. Going “pop” is another animal altogether-an endangered species without much hope.

 

Unknown's avatar

Brian Hoyer’s ACL and abrupt chapter endings

brian-hoyer

As I drove to the gym two Thursdays ago, I heard the the introduction to the Browns-Bills game. At the start of the season, no one, outside of Buffalo or Cleveland would have even cared about the match-up. But as it so happens, the Browns had won 2 in a row and were on the verge of being over 500.

But something else hit me as I tuned into the pre-game broadcast. Brian Hoyer, who started the season as the third string QB, had been inserted into the line-up a few games prior and was set to have a chance to win a third straight. Three game winning streaks for the Browns are not common (for the record the Bucs did have a four game winning streak last year).

Yet the story didn’t end with a third string QB coming in to save the day. Hoyer grew up less than 20 minutes from where the Browns play. He’s an underdog, and a hometown kid, whose dream was probably to play for his home town team. And it happened. And he won.

And then he slid, very poorly on a run for a first down. A defender hit him, and he tore his ACL. And just like that, the story was over. Well the Browns won the game, and may still win. Such a franchise has a special place in my heart: Bucs fans are partial to losing organizations.

The story seemed like such a good fit. It shouldn’t end so soon, and with a simple slide? Who knows what could have been? We don’t. We won’t.

It’s just football, but probably all of us can think of how we would have written another’s story differently. Or our own?

If I had written my story, it wouldn’t have included depression, or back surgery at 25. It wouldn’t have included purchasing a house at the worst possible time in US History. It wouldn’t have been to head to West Virginia. It wouldn’t have been a number of things. Yet all of those things things God has weaved together into a story that is a part of His bigger story of undoing the curse of sin down in these parts. He’s used all of the above in our ministry here. For the record, the West Va time was enjoyable from the get-go, but it certainly wasn’t what this salt-water enthusiast had planned on doing!

Of course there are other things that have happened that I’ll never know why. And surely you will too.

Perhaps Connar’s memory verse for today at school is apropos:

And in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. -Romans 8:28

Some stories, or at least chapters in the stories end abruptly. They really do. And we should grieve. We really should. How can we not?

But there is a Story that has already been written. It is beautiful in a way that sometimes we won’t fully appreciate this side of heaven. I think we need to come to grips with that too.

I once heard that a high school class in South Carolina read Animal Farm but didn’t explain to the kids that it was an allegory. It wasn’t just an animal story. It would have been meaningless if not properly understand as an allegory regarding the “equality” inherent in communism.

Sometimes I think I might often misread what happens in my life in the same way.

Or you may have read a book that you didn’t appreciate when younger, but now you see the beauty, and style of the author as you get older. You learn there is much more to story-writing than piecing together details. Some stories are only appreciated when you get older.

Sometimes life may be the opposite of a Harry Potter story, which is easy to read and appreciated despite the level of maturity of the “reader.”

The more we recognize that God has written us into His story for redeeming and reconciling the world, the easier it will become for us when chapters end differently than we would have hoped.

Until that day when we will see the full beauty of the story, even to those who have had great injustices done to them, we have the words of the martyrs in Revelation to encourage us:

“Great and marvelous are your deeds,
Lord God Almighty.
Just and true are your ways,
King of the nations.[a]
Who will not fear you, Lord,
and bring glory to your name?
For you alone are holy.
All nations will come
and worship before you,
for your righteous acts have been revealed.”- Rev 15:3-4

Such is the ending of the Christian.

Unknown's avatar

David Price and Schizophrenic apologies

i

On Saturday afternoon, the Tampa Bay Rays took on the Boston Red Sox in the American League Division play-offs. So far they have completely under-performed against a well rested-but certainly not rusted-baseball team in the Sox. And of course the Sox deserve all the credit in the world.

After the game, Rays pitcher David Price took to twitter to express his frustrations after the game. I happen to follow Price on twitter, but didn’t see all that he had posted.

Part of his “beef” was with “Big Papi” David Ortiz, as he admired the 2nd of his two home runs as it curved over and around the pesky Pensky pole. I found it a bit busch-league of Ortiz to simply stand and watch. It’s the kind of thing that the Red Sox pitchers would hit a batter for doing (if it weren’t the play-offs).

But the Rays don’t play baseball like that, preferring instead to take the high road and get “pay-back” by winning. The problem with this sense of delayed justice, if you don’t buy in, is that you find some way to find some semblance of satisfying your sense of justice: using words to inflict harm.

Big stars words can hurt others, even other big stars.

Whatever Price had to say, and how he framed his criticism of Ortiz’s home run ball admiration, he and Ortiz have since talked. Whether they actually “face-talked,” (you know, where two people actually converse using words and look at each other) or tweeted or texted, the two have since “cleared the air.” No word on whether Ortiz thought what he did was actually busch-league.

In addition, Price also blasted the Dirk Hayhurst, aka the Garfoose and Keith Oberman. He tweeted, “SAVE IT NERDS.”

As usual with such statements comes the concomitant twitter apology which Oberman declared a “non-apology apology.” Something like Ryan Braun’s steroid apology, which ranks up there with the top 10 of non-apology apologies.

“if I offended you I am very sorry for doing so..#thatsnotme”

I don’t claim to be a twitter apologizer, nor a twitter apologist. But let me offer a critique of this twitter non-apology apology that might be helpful should you rant and need to recant. Or simply if you should need to apologize, since you probably will some time today or tomorrow. Likewise with myself.

If you end an apology with “that wasn’t me,” then who are you exactly  apologizing for, an alter-ego? David Price isn’t schizophrenic, but his apology sure seems so. It wasn’t him. It was him after a frustrating loss.

But that really is him. And that would be me too. It really is us, the us who are calm all day until something happens when we lose our temper. That is us. It’s not the situation, it is us. It is in us all the time (James 4:1-6).

And again, I’m really not blasting Price. I like the guy. We’ve all apologized like that. That wasn’t me, that was “tired me,” “stressed me,” “frustrated me,” “medicated me,” “drunk me.” You get the point.

In Romans, Paul describes his struggle with sin as doing exactly what he doesn’t want to do (Romans 7). It’s his battle against his own sinful flesh. When he wants to do good he can’t. At least not all the time. But he probably wouldn’t have tweeted

#thatsnotmethatwasPaulsfleshtalking.

The first part of repentance is to recognize that it was you. As George from Seinfeld’s famous break up line reminds us, “It’s not you, it’s me.”

When we apologize, let it be an apology, not a schizophrenic apology where we are actually apologizing for someone else not named us.

If you believe the gospel, you can admit that yes, you are that bad. But Jesus forgave you that much, and even more so.

In the odd chance that you, David Price are reading this, I want you to know that I’m still a big fan of yours. And I’ve made a zillion apologies like this. I want to stop, so hopefully, you’ll have played a part.

Go Rays.