"Basketball Rage" OR "Obedience, First"

The Kentucky Wildcats basketball game is over. My blood pressure is returning to normal. I said some unkind things about Bill Self, Jay Bilas, and the Kansas Jayhawks in general. I might have gotten into flame wars on Twitter and Facebook. All in all, a whole plethora of shameful behavior on my part, no matter what happened in the game.

So now, the game is over, and no amount of complaining or whining is going to change that. I'm already thinking about what I'm going to do at school on Monday. I'm thinking about my grandfather, still in the final stages on Alzheimers, whom I saw for the first time in over a year today. Real life is starting to set in again, as the intensity of sports begins to fade.

And yeah, as I think about my atrocious behavior during the game, it makes me ashamed. It makes me hope that those who know me, and who know I claim to follow Jesus, never see me during a UK basketball game. Actually, scratch that: It makes me hope they've never seen me during a UK basketball game, AND it makes me hope I'll be able to keep myself under control for the next game.

For someone who claims to follow Christ, I find myself having a lot of "I hope no one I go to church with saw that" moments. But at least I find myself in good company. Even those who followed Jesus full-time, in the flesh had things in their life they'd hope people not see. Not because it reflects badly on them, because it reflects badly on their Master.

Unfortunately, we're not treated to much of their personal stories. All these men where human, just like me. They lost their cool, sometimes. They got frustrated. They felt cheated. Did they struggle, like I struggle?

I can' help but feel short-changed as I read the stories of some of the most significant characters in scripture. Even people who played a huge role in the ministry of Jesus, who were in his innermost circle of friends, are maddeningly glossed over in biblical history.

Take Matthew, for instance.

We know next to nothing about Matthew except that he was a tax collector, and that he was a Jew. To a certain extent this is enough, because so much is implied. As Jewish collector of Roman taxes, Matthew is a traitor. A pariah. Probably enviable only to the lepers, social outcasts themselves. But there is still so much of the author missing from the Gospel that bears his name.

What was Matthew's life like before Jesus called him to leave everything and follow Him? Had he been looking for an excuse to quit his job? I like to believe he had been, because I can't imagine the taunts and ridicule he dealt with from his fellow Jews when they had to come to him, one of their people, and pay taxed to the foreign force occupying their holy city. And the tax collectors had a reputation of being crooks; was Matthew included in them? Did he have days where he resisted skimming a little off the top, trying to show his countrymen that he was still one of them? Where there days, after he could no longer take the jeering, that he stole an extra portion for himself, feeling he deserved it for having to put up with such torment?

Did he worship God? Could he even show his face in the Temple?

In my experience, Jesus rarely sends only one person to work on the heart of someone He wishes to save. How many other people had tried to soften Matthew's heart? How many times had he been invited to return to the Temple, only to refuse because he was afraid of the cries of 'hypocrite' and 'sell-out' and 'traitor'?

What did he see in the face of Jesus that awakened his soul? No one simply gets up and leaves a job, especially one for which the government could bring down the full force of the law upon you for abandoning your post. Yet he saw something, heard something, in Jesus' simple phrase of, "Follow me," that set his heart afire, telling him:

"This is the moment you've been waiting for. Now is the time."

After Matthew started following Jesus, did he have doubts? Regrets? Moments when he did something, or said something that cast Jesus in a bad light? Did Jesus ever have to pull him aside and say, "Look, if you're going to say you're my follower, you have to stop saying things like that."

Did he still see the same spark in the face of Jesus that caused him to want to follow him in the first place, even months and years later?

Yeah, this seems like a lot of questions to ask, this late on a Saturday night, after such an emotionally exhausting basketball game. But this is sort of what happens when I come down from a "sports high." Reality becomes so much more stark and bright. I have to face the words I yelled at the television, my cell phone, which was thrown across the room right before halftime, and re-read my tweets and Facebook posts to make sure I didn't actually type all the expletives that were going through my head.

I wonder how it was so easy for Matthew to leave behind everything - his old self, his old job, his old preconceived notions about God and faith and religion - and boldly go forth and follow Christ. And I wonder why my vocabulary from my 'old self' always seems to come out when a basketball game's officiating is less than fair. All it took was one phrase from Jesus, and Matthew leaves behind his oldness for Jesus' newness. How did he do it?

Seeking answers, I opened my Bible. Almost immediately, I found a page of commentary from Dietrich Bonhoeffer regarding the calling of Matthew and Jesus' simple phrase of "Follow me."

This encounter is a testimony to the absolute, direct and accountable authority of Jesus. There is no need of any preliminaries, and no other consequence but obedience to the call. Because JESUS IS THE CHRIST, He has authority to call and demand obedience to His word. Jesus summons men to follow him, not as a teacher or a pattern of a good life, but as the CHRIST, the SON OF GOD. 

In this short text Jesus Christ and his claim are proclaimed to men. Not a word of praise is given to the disciple for his decision to follow Christ. We are not expected to contemplate Matthew, but only HE WHO CALLS, and his absolute authority

According to our text, there is no road to faith and discipleship, no other road; only the call of Jesus. 

After reading that, I realized that my focus was on the wrong person. Matthew's life isn't explained in painstaking detail because it simply doesn't matter, in the grand scheme of things. It doesn't matter if he had doubts or fears or wanted to quit. What mattered was that he chose to follow Jesus. He was willing to open his heart to the call for Someone greater than himself, and Jesus spoke straight to that.

If I find myself wondering how Matthew so easily ditched his old life and started following, I need to change my focus: from Matthew, to the One who called Matthew.

Because to a heart attuned with Christ, open to His call, no matter where it may lead, nothing else really matters. Not why the other disciples started following. Not basketball scores, now committed to collecting dust in history books. Not fears or doubts or worries or slipping into old habits.

All that matters is obedience to the One who calls us, and to His word. Because with that, everything else that matters slips right into place. And everything that doesn't matter simply disappears.

If I can't understand why Matthew chose to follow Jesus at that simple phrase, the fault lies with me, not him. 

"Mister Know-It-All " OR "It's Time to Move!"

Last Father's Day, my wife and stepdaughters got me a really sweet Polar M400 running watch. I use it constantly when I run. In fact, one of my New Year's resolutions was to learn to use the interval function on it. That, and to write one new blog post a week. So far, so good.

It records distance. It remembers my favorite routes. It estimates calories burned. It shows current pace, average pace, and fasted pace for a run. And it keeps me accountable if I'm being lazy. 

If the watch senses it's been too long since I've moved (like if I'm Netflix-binging or something), a message flashes across its screen, proclaiming, "It's time to move!" 

Most of the time, my response is, "Don't judge me, watch." But then I'll usually get off my butt and go for a run, or do a workout video with Hillary, or go to the gym. 

Usually. 

Fast forward to this morning, at Trinity Hill United Methodist Church. As is often the case, I heard the verses at the beginning of the sermon, and readied myself to take some notes, draw some cartoons, but pretty much know what's coming because I've read the verses before. 

Note that, in previous entries about my New Year's Resolutions, I mentioned nothing about a resolution to grow closer to God. You've stumbled across the reason for this: my "already-read-it-so-God-has-nothing-left-to-teach-me-through-this-scripture" attitude. 

Pastor Steve's sermon started with this verse: "For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to eternal life, and there are few who find it." (Matt. 7:14). Of course, I tuned this right out; I've been saved since I was sixteen years old (and that's been, ahem, a long time ago). So I set to cartooning about the Broncos/Steelers playoff game today. 

I've had years to develop my skill at drawing while listening, and as pictures appeared in my notebook, I continued to absorb Pastor Steve's message: yes, the day of Salvation is today, but what about all the OTHER days? Christianity isn't about ONE day of salvation, and sitting on our butts for the rest. (I, of course, couldn't be guilty at all of this, because of all the time I'd dedicated to the youth program and all the mission trips and retreats I'd been on, so, once again, I tossed another scripture in the "heard it, mastered it" pile.) 

God clearly knew that my head was a many-layered thing, like an artichoke, that needed to be repeatedly peeled before the heart was exposed. So he hit me with another scripture, and this one got my attention. 

"Through these* He has given his very great and precious promises, so that through them you MAY participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires." (2 Peter 2:4) 

*These, which Paul mentioned in previous verses, refer's to God's power, giving us life and the ability to live Godly lives. But that's not the part that Pastor Steve focused on, much to my benefit. He focused on the use of the word MAY; moreover, that Paul doesn't say WILL, or another word that implies a guarantee. It's a conditional word. 

God knew what he was doing, because this caused me to set down my pen. And, while he had my attention, he hit me with a haymaker, in the form of another scripture which I'd thought I'd already learned. 

"For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being INEFFECTIVE and UNPRODUCTIVE in your knowledge of Jesus Christ" (2 Peter 2:8) 

I hadn't been sitting long enough for it to kick in yet, but at that moment I wish God would have made my watch flash the "It's time to move!" screen. 

Because I hadn't been moving spiritually in long time.  

If Christianity is really a race, as Paul describes it, then I'd stopped at one of the mile-markers and decided to feel proud of myself for making it that far. I could look at at my watch, admire what I'd done and how far I'd come, and kick my feet up. After all, how many people hadn't made it that far? How many people hadn't even laced up their shoes that morning? I was beating all of those folks! 

But God reminded me, as he usually does, that following Him is not a spectator sport. It's not a race you run for a while, and then admire your pretty medal or personalized race bib for the rest of your life. Like running, like anything worth doing, it takes time and energy and practice and grueling dedication. 

But it's the only life truly worth that kind of dedication. 

Part of me only really learned about God the Father after I became a father, and I find myself drawing parallels between my relationship with the girls and God's relation with me (only on a Divine, cosmic proportion). I would be a pretty crappy parent if I did everything for Faith and Zoe and never asked them to lift a finger. Never asked them to educate themselves, to give their best.

And God calls me to do the very same. He calls me to educate myself in Him by scripture reading, following devotions, discussing verses and themes with fellow believers, to not be afraid to take all my prayers directly to God. He calls me to give my best, by devoting my time/energy/finances/prayers/presence to my church, showing love to particularly irksome students, and staying in such close contact with Him that His will is never unknown to me.

But lately all I've been giving him is my laziness, my complacency, and worst of all, my know-it-all attitude. 

So, it's time for Mr. Know-It-All to get off his butt and move. My spiritual butt, that it, and to move spiritually. I've been sitting at this mile marker long enough, and I've got a lot more running to do. 

"New Year, New You!" *or* Practice What You Preach

My brother Aaron posted a very eloquent social media statement yesterday, regarding the exercise world's desire to reel in as many New-Year's-Resolution-ers as they could. In short, he talked about the "New Year, New You!" slogan than gyms, supplement sellers, fitness equipment, and other 'healthy lifestyle' peddlers adopt this time of year.

Even Runner's World, my favorite publication, is not immune.

Runner's World is copyright Rodale, Inc. 

And it's not just this January's issue. As long as I have been a subscriber, this phrase has been on the cover of the January issue.

Not that this is a bad thing: a new year often feels like a blank slate, ripe with all the possibilities of what we could make out of all the time left before us. It's healthy to want to leave behind old habits, especially if those habits are unhealthy, or to want to get better at something you already treasure.

For me, that's running. And yeah, I've decided to become a better runner this year. I haven't set concrete goals yet, which I'm going to have to remedy if I want to achieve anything this year. I have decided, however, to start interval training for the first time in my life.

I went fast(er). On average. Did I do it right? 

Part of me wanted to go to the gym today, instead of hitting the road. Running in the winter is difficult, if only for the amount of synthetic layers I have to wear under my clothes, and a warm recumbent bike at the gym was very tempting. 

But then I remembered that it was the first weekend of the year. And the gym would be full of... 

... resolutioners. 

Taking up all the bikes. Using the weight machines wrong. And, worst of all... WALKING on all the treadmills. 

But, while trying what I hoped was correct interval running today, I thought about all those people who may be walking into my gym for the first time this January. And I realized how much like them I really am. 

I've not always been a runner. On the contrary: back in high school and my earliest years of college, I would have been the absolute last person you would have picked to lace up his shoed and take in 11 miles for fun. It took a long time, a slow progression, and a lot of "gym regulars" having patience with me and my poor form to get where I am. Not to mention that I've still got a long way to go with my fitness goals (evidenced by my lack of understanding of interval training). 

This January, when I'm leaving comments on running blogs and Tweeting noob-level questions at more professional runners... are they going to lump me in with the resolutioners, too? The Johnny-come-latelies, who they hope are destined to drop out in a few weeks? Those desperate to get in on the ground floor, much to the irritation who have devoted years of dedication to their beloved pastime?

And here I am, writing a new blog post for the first time in SIX MONTHS. Do real bloggers see blogs like this one and think, "Oh, geeze, here comes someone else who thinks that, because they're starting a new year, the can do what I do."  

So, with that in mind... 

Welcome, to the gym, all those beginning a New Year's Resolution. 

Welcome to the road, everyone who got their first pair of running shoes for Christmas. 

I'll  give you all the pointers I know, if: 

1.)  you don't mind my fumbling and bumbling with the interval settings on my watch, and 

2.)  you don't mind sub-par blog posts like this one until I can get myself together and start producing a new post every week (and yes, that's a real resolution of mine). 

We all have things we want to accomplish in 2016, and no one's goal is any less or more important that anyone else's. Let's all be good to each other this year. That's a resolution everyone can keep. 

(Yes, I am going to try my best to create a new blog post every week... alternating between this blog, and my creative blog, Cut and Dry. Stay tuned.)