I was talking with a coaching friend today regarding all the times we've either told our athletes or told our students or our sons and daughters the magic phrase, "You know better!"
I am not removed three days from saying to our seniors, "You're seniors, you know this!" and today have it fall on me like an anvil regarding the grace in which God manifests towards me by not saying this repeatedly.
Sometimes, I am an abject failure and a disgustingly poor excuse for a Christian. I read through Ephesians last night, out loud, and with my voice cracking through some of the passages, all I heard was "keep going". The measure of 'better' is an absolute standard and that standard is found in God. And I know better.
There simply is no escaping the fact that the old phrase "I don't read the Bible, it reads me" holds firmly through each generation.
"Did your parents raise you that way?"
"How many times have I told you?"
"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times!"
"I know your parents didn't teach you that"
Now, these questions do not require a response. If anything, the right response would be smart alecky because these questions mask a bigger issue with us, namely the desire to absolve ones self from the blame of failing to lead properly.
There are two points to pull from the "We should know better" axiom.
The first is I should know better and God says it to me better than I say it to my players, sons and others. When I screw up, God is not chasing me into the dugout to tell me I wasted an AB or that I should have made that play because...
Yeah, the playbook has been around for a long time and God would like me to utilize it a bit better. That starts with an intentional yielding daily and as Augustine said many centuries ago, we don't need to be taught new things, but do the things we've already been taught.
So, what's my excuse when I don't execute? If I were an athlete in a sport not executing properly, I am going to be on the bench (disqualified, in essence, which Paul implores not to be in 1 Corinthians 9:27) and I will get to watch someone else do the job I should be doing. Why would it be different for me? If I'm not executing the playbook, won't God find someone who can?
Think about Wally Pipp. He was a good player that took one day off and never got his job back. Lou Gherig stepped in and played 2,131 straight games. Yankees' manager, Miller Huggins, removed Pipp and some others in the lineup to 'shake up' a slumping New York team. A month later, Pipp was hit with a BP pitch, fracturing his skull and then before the 1926 season he was traded to Cincinnati.
Pipp was only supposed to take a day or two off to get himself 'right'. Gherig did Pipp's job better and although Pipp had a decent MLB career, Gherig is the story. Legends about why Pipp lost his job are plentiful, but the main story is Pipp was essentially DQ'd for not doing his job.
Obviously, I don't want to be DQ'd for not doing the things I know already know to do.
The second more poignant point is although I do know better, I don't do it! One thing in my advantage though is I'm not chasing myself down, brow beating until the brow can be beaten no more. I may be my own worst critic, but the one thing I do is judge my intentions, while judging others actions. Lewis writes of the "is/ought" principle and simply, there is a way I act, which often doesn't line up with the way I ought to act.
Sure, God brings the heat and the wrath, opens up the ground to grumblers and piles up quail in large quantities to whiners. Here's the difference between God and I (as if we needed any help figuring it out): He's got the better perspective and is protecting everyone's interests. If I were protecting everyone's interests and not just my own, I guarantee you it would be different when mistakes are made.
Perhaps the reason we react to mistakes by others is to distance ourselves from what it represents: Our failure to communicate, hold other accountable and, specifically, it may highlight our own failures. The good news is that these failures do not result in God opening up the earth to swallow us, rather God affords us the opportunity to rise again, dust ourselves off and keep pushing through until perfection is found in all of us. Until that time, work out your salvation and let others workout theirs, too.
It's OK to demand perfection, but don't expect it. Certainly don't be surprised when failures occur. The real teaching and coaching begins then!
God, give me the fortitude and wisdom to do what you've already taught me to do that I may not shame your name!
"It is well," said Mother Kirk, "you have come a long way round to reach this place, whither I would have carried you in a few moments. but it is very well. But you must take off your rags as your friend has done already, and then you must dive into this water."
"Alas", he said, "I have never learned to dive".
"There is nothing to learn", she said, "The art of diving is not to do anything new but simply to cease doing something. You have only to let yourself go".
I want to cease doing and let go. That is the call from God: stop for awhile and let go. Cease with the attempts to impress me and let me have at you. Amen!
My reading for the day is Psalm 6 & Proverbs 6.
Lord rebuke me not in your anger, nor discipline me in your wrath.
How many times have I 'taught' or 'disciplined' others in my own wrath? A silly, narcissistic vent because I didn't get my way or my way was infringed upon? Oh, plenty, I can assure you!
Because I forget, God implores me to bind his teachings around my neck so that when I walk, they will lead me, when I lie down, they will watch over me and when I awake, they will talk with me.
That pretty much covers my existence, if I humble myself to let God have his way and cease to do what I do.
Proverbs 6:23 says his commands are a lamp and his teachings a light and the reproofs of discipline are the way of life! Oh how I know that and today, Dear Lord, may I walk with you, your lamp and light to guide my way.
Further on, one of my favorite verses is Proverbs 6:27. The rhetorical question is great and gives a fantastic picture of what lust manifest brings. I destroy myself, sow to the flesh, reap destruction, lose honor and the shame is not wiped away. So, you want that?
I've just completed watching perhaps the best movie I've ever watched. It was so striking and compelling to me and so rich with the thickness of truth, I will watch it again...and again.
In this movie, Kay Eiffel is an author who kills off the heroes in her books. She is struggling to complete her book because she cannot find an acceptable way to kill Harold (perhaps she is looking for the heroic death?). Yet, Harold tracks her down and asks her to reconsider and she begins to contemplate the implications of her part in the story. As she sits with the professor near the end of the movie, she explains her sudden change from one ending to another ending:
Because it's a book about a man who doesn't know he's about to die. And then dies. But if a man does know he's about to die and dies anyway. Dies- dies willingly, knowing that he could stop it, then- I mean, isn't that the type of man who you want to keep alive?
The conversation between the professor and Harold after the professor had read the book was also revealing. During the conversation Harold was asking if there was any way out because Harold was sure the professor would have a solution and Harold was ready to do what he said. I imagined Jesus, in his most human moment asking that, too. He knew what he was going to do and in that moment, Harold became more resolute as well.
Men of Valor. They are rare, because most of us are trying to hang onto our lives so tightly that our lives are of no benefit to others. I'd imagine there was a moment of complete freedom and peace that Jesus experienced as a human when he surrendered his life. Not in the moments in heaven when discussions first began a long time ago. I refer to the actual, impending and inevitably of death which was closing fast on Him.
There were so many moments in this film that grabbed me, I do not think I can pick out just one, yet one is worth pointing to as a truth which I hope would resonate with any man or woman.
Harold Crick is about to die, he knows it and is about his tasks leading up to his death. He is going to willingly lay down his life because it is, as he tells Kay Eiffel after he read her manuscript, "a beautiful story". He's read the book and realized his story is beautiful. Death as poetry. Courage is freedom. Valor is peace.
This is the first time I've looked at death in terms of poetry, of beauty. But then I am reminded of the Psalmist who wrote as much in Psalm 116:15. Yet, what is even more profound is Harold doing what must be done, fulfilling the order of things, and laying down his life. I cannot put into words what this did in me, only that it struck me as profoundly Christ like, of giving what I cannot keep to gain something I cannot lose; of willingly laying down in order to truly live. Try to carry that truth with you daily.
Of course, daily dying is what God calls me to...today. Today is all we receive and it is a gift. There is much to be appreciated about today and it is all started by the people around us whom God has woven into the fabric of us. For me, it starts with my wonderful wife and my two dear precious sons. I cannot imagine a sweeter thought right now in this moment than them. It is in this moment I am so awakened to the reality of God and his work to orchestrate the events leading to each of the events in my life...which has led me to this moment.
As Harold took a bite of Bavarian sugar cookie, he finally felt as if everything was going to be ok. Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy, we can thank God for Bavarian sugar cookies. And, fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin, or a kind and loving gesture, or subtle encouragement, or a loving embrace, or an offer of comfort, not to mention hospital gurneys and nose plugs, an uneaten Danish, soft-spoken secrets, and Fender Stratocasters, and maybe the occasional piece of fiction. And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties, which we assume only accessorize our days, are effective for a much larger and nobler cause. They are here to save our lives. I know the idea seems strange, but I also know that it just so happens to be true. And, so it was, a wristwatch saved Harold Crick.
God saves our lives, not just once at the Cross, but each day, with his handiwork by which He has put people in our story to make it complete. God makes our lives complete, fills it up with himself and I have no other end but in him. Yet, God also grants us today with a tapestry of events which, one could argue, could have be different if only we would have done something sooner, later, last year? Well, God can change your destiny. He can change the ending of your story. He changed mine. He is the author of life and death and he gives daily hints. The awakening to his hints are the great delights along the way.
I have never read Kierkegaard but in quotes, so when I got "Practice in Christianity" from Cory this Christmas, I was excited to start. So far, I've not been disappointed.
I'm going to go through some of the main ideas and items I've highlighted, mainly for posterity sake. I always have book notes, and eventually, my book notes will go onto this site so I can have them in one place as opposed to being scattered in various folders.
Soren Kierkegaard (known the rest of the way as SK) wrote "Practice in Christianity" in 1848 and the main thrust of the beginning of the book was to lay out Christ as a contemporary to every man in every generation. It is rather easy to look at Christ as a historical figure and keep him in annals of history relegating him to 2,000 years ago. However, as SK points out, he is not distant, but here, now; able to transcend any year or heart, if the individual is willing and not offended.
I'm offended and experiencing great indignation at your comment
SK's prayer is
Lord Jesus Christ, would that we, too, might become contemporary with you in this way, might see you in your true form and in the surroundings of actuality as you walked here on earth, not in the form in which an empty and meaningless or a thoughtless romantic or a historical talkative remembrance has distorted you, since it is not the form of abasement in which the believer sees you, and it cannot possibly be the form of glory in which no one as yet has seen you. Would that we might see you as you are and were and will be until your second coming in glory, as the sign of offense and object of faith, the lowly man, yet the Savior and Redeemer of the human race.
This offense SK refers to is the first time I've come across the idea of offense and pride working together to form a wall built to keep a man from stooping to belief in God. I say stoop because a man's belief in anything usually has to pass his pride first.
"I simply cannot believe in 'x' because it is silly, beneath my vast understanding and intellect". It is not articulated as such, but lived out in a certain haughtiness, through a consistent puffed out chest and raised chin. The mental picture of pride in that respect is found in all of us in various disciplines of life. For some it is the metaphysical, for some it is political and for the simple like me, it comes in the form of sports (teams, instruction, allegiances)
And in the most profound sense, pride is manifest when help is offered and summarily rejected. Whether the help is rejected because of the source or the manner in which the help was offered ("it is not the way I wanted it!") isn't relevant. We find Naaman initially rejecting help for his leprosy because of the manner in which help was given. In 2 Kings 5:1-19 the story is written. Naaman was a proud man and wanted a dignified way to be healed, maybe even a quick fix. What he got was something he had not planned. However, there is no easy remedy for what ails you and I.
Dip in the Jordan seven times? Inconceivable! Naaman's pride made him incredulous to the task. That is us.
Naaman without leprosy & pride
As an aside, If you were tasked with bringing a rebel back to your camp, what methods or manner would you employ?
I see this in the coaching profession. A coach makes a decision with personnel or play calling and every one not on the coaching staff (and perhaps those on the staff) will eventually say, "I wouldn't have played him" or "I wouldn't have called that". It's inevitable. That's what armchair coaches do, they second guess. Naaman second guessed the coaching staff of Elisha and God, we second guess others and at some point in your life, you've second guessed God.
But what if you were God? What would you do to set out guidelines, expectations without offending? This:?
In a fantastic scene, Bruce loses his pride and discovers humility ( the key to belief )
A picture of humility.
Bruce figured it out, lost his pride and responded to the invitation SK points out in his first chapter: There is One asking you to "Come here" because He has what you need.
SK writes in the first chapter titled, "The Invitation":
But ordinarily it is the case that the person who is able to help must be searched for, and once he is found it may be hard to gain access to him, and when one has gained access one perhaps must still plead with him for along time, and when one has pleaded with him for a long time, he perhaps at long last lets himself be prevailed upon- that is, he sets a high price on himself.
A person only asks others to come when that person is willing and able to help. Invitations come from those who have something or someone to give. They are requesting your presence to something they think you would like or need. The inviter reserves to the right to invite whom they like. The selection of the inviter is up to the inviter. Pretty simple, eh? So, Jesus has invited all to "Come here" under no conditions, no matter your condition. Jesus knows all the objections & excuses. Apparently, it doesn't matter to him.
He also isn't worried about how many will come, either. Is there ever "too many" for Him? So, from our perspective on invitations, we are usually attentive to "who is going?" and that may partially influence our decision to accept the invitation or reject it. Perhaps that is why Jesus reserves the right for him to judge who is fit to be with him. For if we were left to decide, who knows who would be there?
That's why the Cross is offensive and God remains the only one who can rightly be offended at sin, provide a solution and simply say to all, "Come". He doesn't ask any of us if we'd prefer that someone or some group remain uninvited. Since He is the one offended, he chooses whom he will invite.
Everyone.
What an enormous variety, what almost limitless differences among the invited guests...So, then the invitation goes out, along the highways and along the lonely ways, and along the loneliest way-yes, where there is a way so lonely that only one person knows it, one solitary person. XII, 11
SK writes for three pages on the why the invitation hits each one of us at our own crossroads. We have our own roads in which we travel, yet common to most men. There are wide roads such as despair and loneliness that Jesus has been along, yet he calls you and I to a narrow road, a road of rest.
To the ones he invites, it matters not at this point whether you are aware of your sin. He understands your condition, whether you acknowledge it or not. That's why some get offended. He offers the invitation and some say, "What, me? Why? I have no need of such help!" and they turn around in a huff. "Why the nerve of such a man to say that I need what he has! I've never been so offended in my life!" and off you go, to suck your thumb in the corner, satisfied you know better. Good luck with all...that.
SK continues
And if you are conscious of yourself as a sinner, he will not question you about it, he will not break the bruised reed even more, but will raise you up when you accept him; he will not identify you by contrast, by placing you apart from himself so that your sin becomes even more terrible; he will grant you a hiding place with himself, and hidden in him he will hide your sins. For he is a friend of sinners. He walks- but no, he has walked, but infinitely farther than any shepherd...Indeed, he walked the infinitely long way from being God to becoming man; he walked that way in order to seek sinners!
SK continues further with the implication of the Inviter seeing the need of all he invited, thus everyone, as weary and heavy burdened, wretched and poor. As soon as you see yourself as those, you will have no problem accepting the invitation. However, it is a big problem when you don't think you have a reason to accept the invitation. Why would you if didn't think you were poor, wretched, sick and dying?
Self assessment, accurately executed, will quickly set you on the path of humility. The longer one goes without it, the farther down the road one gets, making the path back that much longer. The problem is once so much time is invested down a road, the time itself becomes the main thing keeping one on a particular road.
"Come here!" He assumes those who labor and are burdened feel the burden to be ever so heavy, feel the labor to be heavy and now are standing there irresolute and sighing, one person looking in all directions for help, another with downcast eyes because he discerned no comfort, a third staring upward as if it might still come from heaven-but all of them searching.
Which of the three shoes are you wearing or wore before you were found? Let's not make the mistake of saying we found Him. No, he found us, offered himself and we accepted the help. Whether it be a simple sigh or a determined walk back from a wrong turn, God receives them both as an RSVP to his invitation for us to "Come here"
One more year goes by and I will make it a point to catalog what is happening in 2012. It will start with Soren Kierkegaard's book, "Practice in Christianity" and exposition of it, as well as a new struggle: A coach, now a parent watching other people coach. What fun that is!
I am beginning to understand a parent's frustration with my profession! Heh.
