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Perfection In An Imperfect World

June 21, 2012

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                      June 21, 2012

 

 

Sports analysts are amusing. They break down situations, and assess blame as quickly as it takes to order and receive a Beach Club sandwich at Jimmy John’s. If Lebron makes an incredible shot it gets lost in the occurrence of a missed free throw thirty seconds later. If Russell Westbrook scores 45 points, it gets forgotten in the scrutiny of an ill-advised foul with thirteen seconds left in the game. If an official misses a foul call, there is a rush to make instant replay a part of every moment and every movement of the game.

There is a thirst for perfection in a game that is determined by bad decisions. But more than that, there is a sense of being insulted by the allowance of faults.

TV sports analysis shows are created out of this sense of being offended. Listen to what the guys in suits say. If Jesus had played basketball they would have even been upset at his perfect shooting form and never missing a foul shot. I’m sure the conversation would drift to something like “His team needs him to step up in more ways than just never missing a shot.”

Perfection means coming to a point of satisfaction, and sports analysts are never satisfied. They are like a food critic in a restaurant. Perfect food can never happen, because there was a water spot on my fork!

We desire to live lives that are error-free, but there always seems to be a sense that we’re falling short of that…because we are! There is also that sense of seeing the faults in the beauty. Most of us are critical people who see a tear in one of the petals of a flower instead of the flower itself.

Churches that pursue perfect worship services may miss the presence of the One they are worshipping. The perfect sermon may be sanitized of any whisperings of the Lord. The perfect VBS might miss the fact that one little boy is struggling with a stuttering problem that has started as a result of other crises in his life.

The imperfections of our lives need love and grace, and often simply a listening ear.

In the mean time we will continue to hear hyper-critical commentators and fans gone ballistic because someone missed a running left-hand hook shot. It will be made to sound like the world has been thrown off of its axis, and the end is near.

When you hear that “blast” just take a deep breath…hold it…and think of the perfection that is a part of the next exhale.

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Gutenbergers and Googlers

April 17, 2012

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                   April 17, 2012

Recently I was cooking steaks on the outdoor grill. The problem was that it was dark outside (that often happens at night!), and our deck light wasn’t giving me much help. The flames from the gas grill brought some light…to the bottom side of the steaks…but when light shines towards you it does nothing to reveal what the object looks like on the side you can see.

Carol saw my quandary, and she comes outside with her cell phone.

“Hey! I need more light, not a Sprint techie!”

She then turns her cell phone into a flashlight and instantly reveals that the steaks need some more time.

“What?”

It’s getting more and more amazing what kind of apps you can get for your cell phone. At Starbucks there is a free app card each week. You just take the card, enter in the code on your iTunes account, and download the app to your phone. I can now play Scrabble, Angry Birds, watch a movie, read a book, check the news, and text all my “friends” to let them know I’m drinking a cup of Italian Roast.

The point is that we are in a crunch period in the church between two cultures, the Gutenbergers and the Googlers. Leonard Sweet, in his new book Viral: How Social Networking Is Poised to Ignite Revival, makes some clear distinctions between the two separated generations. “Gutenbergers” are “into the word.” No, I’m not talking about the Bible, although they do use it. I’m talking about the printed text, the hard copy.

Googlers are into TGIF! If you just translated those capital letters with the phrase “Thank God Its Friday!”, you are probably a “Gutenberger.” If you filled in the blanks of T_G_I_F_ with “Text, Google, iPhone, and Facebook” you are probably more of a “Googler.”

If the pastor says to look up Mark 2:21-23 and you reach for the Bible in the pew rack you’re most likely a Gutenberger. If you reach for your cell phone you are either a Googler, or trying to become one.

The challenge for “the church” is to realize that the Ephesians 4 passage about there being ‘one body and one Spirit” is a call to not cultural division, but the treasuring of different people in different place with different perspectives and different journeys…but one Lord!

“Gutenbergers” tend to be pushier and more determined. Worship services become turf wars about music and length and dress styles. But “Gutenbergers” are also resilient and persistent. “Googlers” tend to need others to get them through, to journey with them. “Gutenbergers” have a “John Wayne” trait.

“Gutenbergers” view the constant texting of “Googlers” as needless drivel and a sign of idle hands with nothing to do. “Googlers” see “text” as a verb and a crucial part of deepening relationships. It is the equivalent of my Uncle Milliard sitting on a bench with some other men in front of the county courthouse on a summer afternoon, in terms of us kids at the time, “Not doing anything!” The difference is that “Googlers” can “sit” with any of their friends at any moment even though they are separated by thousands of miles.

The point is that both cultures need each other. The first group that has a tendency to say “We were here first!” needs to hear . . . really hear the second group’s response “We are here now.” Exclamation mark ends the first group’s sentence, but a simple period finishes the second group’s response.

The alternative is to keep the two cultures separate and allow the fear to build . . . to build suspicions about each other . . . and become convinced that neither “Gutenbergers” nor “Googlers” can learn anything from one another.

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Forgetting Our Purpose, But Remembering Our Cell Phone

April 15, 2012

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                                         April 15, 2012

 

Many people think I’m clueless…and I am in some respects! Without guidance from my wife my colorblindness can cause the reactions around me to non-verbally communicate “What was he thinking?” And there have been other times when a “thank you” to Carol for the dinner she has just cooked would have been appreciated, but I cluelessly sat there like a “man stone”- word-less!

So I admit my cluelessness. One time I even walked through an airport terminal unzipped before my friend may mention of an open barn door. When your “openness” is suddenly revealed it causes you to think about all the smiles and grins you have just received in the last five minutes.

But…there are other things I’m pretty observant of. In recent times I’ve noticed the attitude and attentiveness of workers in restaurants and business establishments. It might go to the fact that I just read Patrick Lencioni’s book The Three Signs Of A Miserable Job.

Sometimes the customer seems to be an inconvenience. A couple of weeks ago Carol and I took our daughters and grand kids to Dairy Queen. I like Dairy Queen. Years ago my Aunt Irene bought me my first foot-long hot dog there, plus my first banana split. Unfortunately, they were during the same meal and I just about split my tummy trying to eat both items. My Uncle Milliard, who was married to my Aunt Irene, bought a Dairy Queen for a few months, and just as quickly sold it because the fourteen hour days were killing him. He knew it was time to sell when one day he looked out at the long line of customers and yelled “Doesn’t anyone eat at home anymore?” Although in question form, it was not really a question!

Back to my recent DQ stew! The young man who took our order seemed to be more interested in one of the young ladies who was working the drive-thru lane than he was in the guy with the twenty dollar bill in his hand. We ordered, and all of our order came…except one item! Mine! My Peanut Butter Bash…missing in action!

I was patient, waiting to the side as other customers placed their orders…and then received…and then left. As I waited I noticed the young man’s cell phone placed right next to the register, and every twenty seconds or so he would receive a text from someone who was obviously more important then me. And he would respond to it.

My clueless side was not so pronounced that I thought to myself “Wow! People can text their orders to DQ ahead of time now. That’s pretty neat!”

No, I was just waiting for my Peanut Butter Bash, which I will never ever order again!

Finally, I got Employee X’s attention and told him that I hadn’t received part of our order. He asked me what I was waiting on, and I told him “Peanut Butter Bash”, which when you think of it, sounds kind of stupid. In fact, as I told him I almost felt immature, like ordering a kids’s meal when I’m old enough to order off of the Senior Menu.

In about 30 seconds he put the PBB in front of me with no “Sorry about that”, or “My bad!”…just put it right there and checked his cell phone again.

How often it seems that we forget our purpose for being where we are, and for what we’re doing. We just put in the time in a lackluster manner, making no impact and giving minimal attention and effort.

Could it be that the church needs to learn from the DQ guy? That being the hands and feet of Jesus to a person who is in the midst of a listening ear is more important than the text from Howdy Doody saying “Hey?”

Just saying…could it be that we sometimes just put the time in…without thinking how our attentiveness could be a connecting link in someone’s life transformation experience? Perhaps reducing the times of cluelessness might result from a more attentiveness to the whisper of the Spirit.

 

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Playing Big With Little People

April 15, 2012

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                      April 15, 2012

Saturday morning I was at the soccer game that the daughter of my nephew was playing in. She’s in third grade, which translated means that most of the parents there had cups of Starbucks coffee in their hands, or coffee staying hot in a thermos. (I waited until after the game to go to Starbucks! Willpower!)

Gracie had a great time playing, as did all of the kids. No one had told them yet that “This is serious business…so wipe that smile off your face!”

Meanwhile, something else caught my attention. On the field right behind us a game involving four year old’s was taking place. One of the coaches was an African-American man who was so big he looked by a tree house that the kids could climb on. I’m guessing…and I believe I’m quite accurate on this one…that he played football. He was so big that he could have played Right Guard…and Left Guard …on the same play.

And he was having a ball! And because he was having a ball the players on both teams were having a ball! One time I looked over and he was dangling a young boy upside down. I’m not even sure it was a player on his own team, but the boy was laughing and in a moment of “life delight!”

The coach congratulated and high-fived players on both teams. He helped little girls who tripped back on their feet. He shouted encouragement.

He played big with the little people. He inspired me!

As a coach I get the tremendous privilege of influencing young people, helping them improve their skills, learn from their mistakes, mentor them in life lessons through the lens of a game. I fan the flame of their passion for the game, while not losing sight of their youthfulness.

Although I’m not as big as the soccer coach of the four year old’s, in some ways I get to play big with the little people. I get to guide them in having fun.

In the youth sports culture we’ve lost most of that.

Like the coach who has his sixth grade girls’ basketball team press their opponents full-court even though they are up by thirty at the start of the fourth quarter.

Or the coach who plays his main group and then when, because of a mandatory league rule, he puts the last kid on the bench in to pinch hit, he commands him not to swing at any pitch because the player never makes contact. He robs him of the sound of a baseball meeting wood, because he’s short-sighted.

Or the coach who had no success as an athlete growing up, so he’s going to win at any cost with the youth team he’s coaching now.

Or the two coaches who get into a fight after the game in front of their players, who all stand there with mouths wide open in shock.

The list could go on for pages. Somewhere and at sometime we lost the thrill and sheer joy of playing big with the little people.

The joy of playing children is a sign of the blessing of God upon Jerusalem in the Old Testament book of Zechariah (chapter 8). In The Message paraphrase of Zechariah 8:4 it says, “And boys and girls will fill the public parks, laughing and playing- a good city to grow up in.”

I love that! I pray that we regain that scene.

I hope I run into “the man child” again at the next soccer outing. I’m going to tell him how he inspired me, how he brought a smile to my face, how his “playing big” brought a little glimpse of God’s delight!

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Doing Things With One Hand

March 27, 2012

WORDS FROM W.W,                                                                      March 27, 2012

Sometimes during basketball practice we do a special day called “Left Hand Wednesday”. I’ve inserted another day for Wednesday when it falls accordingly. Wednesday was often the day it fell on, because there had been a game the day before, so the “lack of having a left hand” was still vivid in my mind. On Left Hand Wednesday practice consist of left-hand lay-ups, ball handling drills with…that’s right, the left-hand. Since the offense almost always started on the right side, on this special day I’d restrict it to the left side of the court.

Making the point about being so “left-hand challenged” the players were started to resonate with some of them. Others never quite got it. I’d find myself saying things like “Is there a train track that you’re having to stay on each time that leads you down into the right baseline corner?” or after someone had tried to sneak in a right-hand lay-up on the left side, “No, use your OTHER left hand!”

Our potential as a team was intimately connected to how one-handed dependent we were.

I’m typing this with my right hand only..and one finger only besides that. I sliced my left hand this morning as I was moving some tables at church. So now I have an excuse for being left-hand deficient. My left hand is elevated at the moment, and my one typing finger on my right hand is getting sore…oh, is that a callous on the end of it?

When a basketball player is one-handed, he/she becomes predictable, and predictableness limits innovation, accomplishing the objective, progress, and vision. The last couple of hours have seen limited productivity from this wounded warrior. Ever tried to eat a chicken pot pie with one hand? One hand with a fork, that is! Ohhh…there goes a piece of carrot right on to my shirt! And of course it lands on the white stripe on my multi-colored shirt!

It raises many questions for me.

How much of my life is one-sided in my approach without even realizing it until there’s a wound…a verbal disagreement, a view that suddenly becomes glaringly distorted? When that happens how often do I try to hide from the truth of it?

“No, that’s not what I meant to say! You misunderstood me!”

How much of my life is lived in neglect of God standing on my left side? Or, perhaps lived with a blindness to how God desires to help me and grow me on/in my weak side.

How often does the church only listen to one-sided people at the exclusion of those who can see both sides?

How often does the church only function in one way, and it being a way that is not open to new creations, new beginning, and new life?

How often do I take the words of Jesus about being “the way”, and package it in my way, which I spiritualize with language that verbalizes “one way”, but is followed only if it fits my way?

How often do I neglect those on the left because I always go right; or how often do I neglect those on the right because I always go left?

My left hand is in a state of numbness right now, as I let the God who constructed it and designed begin to heal it. And my right hand is numb, also, not out of empathy, but fatigue!

This one-handed thing is giving me some ideas for other practice emphases for next basketball season.

No dribble Tuesdays!

Sarcastic Saturdays!

Psycho Coach Fridays!

Run for a while Thursdays!

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“Being A Team”

March 6, 2012

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                 March 6, 2012

The 8th Grade boy’s basketball team I coach played in a tournament last weekend that involved the middle school teams on the north side of our city. They finished second in the tournament, after a heartbreaking defeat in the winner’s bracket final of a desperation 30 footer that swished the net at the buzzer.

Result: Loss 51-50!

Finishing second, however, meant that the team qualified for the all-city tournament in a couple of weeks.

Personal Comment: I’m not big on the all-city tournament. First of all, I don’t think it’s that important to find out who the best middle school team is in the area; and second different school districts have different criteria for who is able to be on their team.

BUT I met with the parents of the boys after our Monday night game to discuss the situation. I laid out the positives and the negatives of being a part of the tournament. Two of the parents said that their sons were committed to other things on the Saturday that the final games of the tournament would be played. Another mom and dad said that their family would be away the whole weekend. Parents of the remaining eight players were affirming of the team still participating. They felt the team had earned the opportunity, and it would have them play against good competition, regardless of the outcome.

I then went into the locker room, where I had told the team to wait, and presented the situation to them. It was their choice.

They recognized the absence of the three teammates for the event, and they said this to me: “Coach, we don’t want to be in it. We’re a team, and since some of our teammates can’t be there, we don’t want to participate. We’re a team!”

I said that was fine, and then I had them follow me out, where I told the parents that their sons were unanimous in their decision not to go.

I could tell that several of the parents were deeply touched at the high value that the boys had placed on being a team. They recognized that “TEAM” (with no “i”) had been given greater value to their sons than winning a basketball game.

It’s has been a successful season for this team, but the highlight for me was that moment when they went against what is so often preached in our culture- winning and losing- and stayed committed to one another!

And that is awesome!

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Crazy With the Mennonites

February 15, 2012

WORDS FROM W.W. February 15, 2012
Last Sunday was our neighborhood pastors pulpit exchange Sunday. Five churches in our neighborhood exchange pastors. You can call it “Pastor Swap” if you want to! We’ve done it for six years on a Sunday in either January or February. We’ve threatened to do it more often!
“If you all don’t shape up we’re going to call in the Baptist pastor, and you know how long his sermons are!”
This year was my second time to visit Beth-El Mennonite Church, and we had a great time! Correction! I had a great time. I can’t speak for them. My Mennonite seminary professor, Dr. David Augsburger, would have made sure I was not assuming something that might not be true.
Okay! Some of them told me they had a good time! Of course, what do you say to the visiting pastor of another church after the service? “Thank God, we won’t have to see you for another four years!”
The great thing about pulpit exchange Sunday is that you get reminded that there are other people who are invested in the Kingdom, not just your own congregation. You also see some things happening that can be done in your own congregation. You have people praying for you that desire for you to be used for the Kingdom of God.
You find out that there are people at Beth-El who watch the insides of their eyelids just like there are in your own congregation. You find that they sing the same kind of songs, and that they have people with the same kind of bad coffee breath at the end of the fellowship time as your own congregation does.
You learn that they have people with a wide assortment of clothing attire just like us- from blue jeans to out-of-date three-piece suits; from women’s slacks to prom dresses (Okay, maybe a step more rational than a prom dress).
You learn that they have someone who is a little slow on getting the next song slide up just like we do.
You learn that they have people who love Jesus just like our church does; and that they also have people who are wondering about Jesus just like we do.
It’s nice to know that the whole world hasn’t been put on the shoulders of one church, even though we sometimes live like we’re the only place of worship in town.
Looked my time there! In fact, some Sunday I’m just going to take off from preaching at Highland Park Baptist and I’m just going to go back to Beth-El to worship with the people. It’s something that pastors don’t do very often. We sometimes think that “no one can bring Jesus like we can.”
Jesus has been “brought” many times. Now it may be more about him being “sought.”

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Ten Commandments for Basketball Parents

February 9, 2012

WORDS FROM W.W.                                                                    February 9, 2012

In our Buddy Basketball program for kids we stress the need for kids to have a positive and fun recreational experience. A vast majority of kids long for that. There are a number of other things in their lives that aren’t positive and aren’t fun. It’s amazing to see the pressure that young kids of elementary age are under.

And honestly, for many kids the pressure comes from their parents. Mom and Dad want them to succeed…but it’s often confined to Mom and Dad’s definition of what success is. I wonder what Jesus would define childhood success as being. It seems that the examples of children that we hear about in the Gospels revolved around a small boy’s offering to give up his lunch for everyone (sharing with others); and Jesus’ desire to spend time with the kids that the disciples thought he didn’t have time for. When Jesus scolded his disciples for trying to keep children away from him he emphasized that the adults around him needed to chill out a little bit, to be more childlike instead of childishly adult!

So for Buddy Basketball we have something called “Ten Commandments for Buddy Basketball Parents.” Here they are, not in order of importance, but hopefully to bring some order to parental attitudes.

  1. Thou shalt applaud each player’s efforts, regardless of whose team he/she is a member of.
  2. Thou shalt not yell at or criticize the unpaid volunteer referees.
  3. Thou shalt affirm the referees whenever possible.
  4. Thou shalt not keep statistics on your child’s performance.
  5. Thou shalt congratulate your son/daughter after each game for their effort and hustle.
  6. Thou shalt be quiet and observe the pre-game prayer.
  7. Thou shalt not bring infants and toddlers into the Highland Park Church gym during the games for their own safety.
  8. Thou shalt smile at your son/daughter.
  9. Thou shalt let the coach know if your child won’t be at a game.
  10. Thou shalt have a good time and allow yourself to laugh.

This year I’m considering an 11th! I know it goes against the idea of “The Ten”, but it’s become one that we ap”parent”ly didn’t think about:

    1. Thou shalt let the coach be the coach, and you be the cheering, clapping, positive, and mostly quiet parent!

I believe Jesus would give an “amen!”

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Important Lessons At Three Year Old’s Soccer Games

September 14, 2011

WORDS FROM W.W. September 14, 2011
I took in my three year old grandson’s first soccer game last Saturday morning. The men’s bible study group I lead extended some grace to me and pushed me out the door so I could catch the second half of a delightful time.
Three year old soccer isn’t about the game, as much as the experience and the post-game snacks. My grandson had a hat trick- two goals in the other team’s net and one in his own. He was all smiles no matter what. As long as there was a net on the back of the goal he was all giggly.
I learned a few things as I watched and savored.
It’s okay to have fun playing a kid’s game, even though adults are watching. Kids have fun playing when there aren’t any adults watching; and sometimes kids have no fun when adults are watching. It’s possible…just possible…if the parents can allow it…for the kids to have fun even when mom and dad are there. Sometimes the church needs to become more child-like and less childish, more laugh-filled and less demanding.
It’s okay to pull to the side for a moment even when the game is still going on. Our grandson, as well as many others, would take a tumble, get up and run over to mom or dad to get some consolation about the fact that he had some grass stain on his “waist high” socks. After his parents assured him that it would be okay, he was back at it. It was more like a pit stop during a NASCAR race. The race went on, but it was okay for him to stop for a brief intermission. It made me think of how infrequent my own pulling to the side happens.
In 3 year old soccer there is no “Them and Us”. If the ball is going towards the other team’s goal there was a fifty-fifty chance that the team on the defense will keep kicking it in that direction. Three year old’s aren’t as aware of the right direction as they are of their right foot. Right and wrong have been defined in different ways. “Right” is stopping and helping someone back on his feet, or saying how nice his shoes look. “Wrong” is pushing or hitting another player who has fallen on top of the pile; or saying something mean. In other words, right and wrong have not been defined by the white line boundaries, or which goal to shoot on, or even refraining running onto the field to help stop the ball even though you aren’t in the game. A soccer game with three year old’s is more about grace than law, freedom than constraints.
In a soccer game played by three year old’s there is joy. One of the coaches had tied a smiley face balloon to the top of their goal. The result was that both teams were often heading towards the smile. Three year old’s are attracted to joy. I need to learn that as a principle of life: Aim for joy. Detour away from scowls and disgruntlement. I need to consider the question: What really brings joy to my life?

And so it ended! The game was over. Not one of the three year old’s knew what the score was. I’m sure a few parents probably did, but most of the observers also saw life lived on a smaller field with excitement, delight, and laughter.
May the adult generation get a sense of that as we play on our larger fields!

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