“Believe it or not, I’m walking on air. I never thought I could be so free. Flying away on a wing and a prayer, who could it be? Believe it or not, it’s just me.” These are the words to one of my favorite songs. When I was a kid I loved “The Greatest American Hero,” and this was the show’s theme song. I don’t remember a lot of details about the show, but it was about a guy that was given a suit with superpowers. He promptly loses the instruction book, and hilarity ensues. A psychologist (or just anyone that knows me) could have a field day explaining why this show was important to me.
If I’m in the right mindset, I still get goosebumpy and teary-eyed when I hear this song. Sometimes when someone shares with me who much they enjoyed a sermon, or when a blog post gets popular, or when I get a letter from someone who’s life I shaped, I find myself wondering, who could it be? Believe it or not, it’s just me. I mean really? I’m the one that did that good thing? There are so many times in ministry that I’m simply flying away on a wing and a prayer. Is it possible to be at the same time supremely confident and terribly insecure?
At any given moment, I could be either of those things or both, but overall I find hope in self-esteem, because my self-esteem is paradoxically not all about me.
This week’s Journey to Hope about self-esteem asks a few very good questions. The first is, “Is your self-esteem formed from the outside in or the inside out?”
My answer is, “Yes.” Let me explain: It was when I discovered the true power of the love of God that I realized that I could love myself. Once I started to love myself, I could truly experience the love of God. I don’t think I can separate these two events, because it was a process of self-discovery that cannot be drawn out in a linear explanation.
During my middle school years I discovered two things. At about the same time I discovered that I was good at something, and I discovered that I didn’t need to be good at anything to be loved by God. The result was a confidence in self that was at the same time selfless. I cannot point to a day or time that I “met Jesus,” or was “born again.” I can point to a few people (Steve A, Heather H, Mrs. Schmidt, Mrs. Martin, Mr. Graba, and above all, my family) that loved me, appreciated my input, and encouraged me to be and do more than I ever thought possible.
My self-esteem comes from outside-in. It comes from the God that created me, and breathes life into me. It comes from the knowledge that no matter what, God is with me, empowering me and sustaining me. It comes from the knowledge that my talents, skills, and intellect are not enough to save the world, but I don’t have to do it on my own.
My self-esteem comes from the inside-out. It comes from the knowledge that my talents, skills, and intellect can be used to change the world for good. It comes from my experience, my failures, and my victories. It comes from the knowledge that today I can do something powerful.
Another question that is posed asks “How do you define yourself? Who defines you?”
I define myself as beloved child of God. Nothing more, nothing less. Everything else that describes me is a subset of my primary identity. I am a father, a son, a brother, a friend, and a pastor. I am educated, affluent, American, Irish, and Italian. I am strong, athletic, intelligent, and compassionate. I am forgetful, lazy, fearful, and overweight. These things are all descriptors. None are definitions. My hope does not rest on any of these characteristics.
My hope doesn’t rest on the power of a special suit, or on the hope that I might find the instruction book someday. It resides in the knowledge that I am a beloved child of God. I am created in the image of God. I am redeemed by the love of Jesus. I am sustained by the power of the Holy Spirit. This defines me. Nothing else.
Filling out the bracket is one of my favorite annual events. I’ve been filling out brackets for over 25 years. In all my years of filling out brackets, I’ve only won a group once. I stopped doing pay-for-play brackets many years ago, but I did finish in the money once when I was a kid. The only time I’ve ever won a group was in 2010, when my Mascot Bracket beat about 30 other submissions in my free yahoo group. Among the submissions were President Obama’s and Joe Lunardi, the man who coined the term “bracketology.”
What is the Mascot Bracket? It is simple: pick the winners of the entire NCAA Men’s Basketball tournament based solely on which mascot would win in a fight. To accomplish this task, I have come up with some rules. The 2012 bracket has the first major rule change. In the past, I used a simple food-chain style set of rules which placed weather systems at the top. I’ve decided to make a change, so that the rules form more of a rocks-paper-scissors format.
Inanimate objects, e.g. colors and plants, always lose to animate objects.
Predators beat non-predators and unarmed humans.
Humans beat non-predators.
Humans with weapons beat predators.
Humans with weapons beat humans without weapons.
Humans with superior weapons/training win.
Supernatural beings and killer weather systems defeat human warriors.
Many animals, especially birds and fish, can survive devastating storms.
Ties go to the high seed.
Prepositions lose to everything. (See explanation of What’s a Hoya)
17. Don’t turn your back on bears.
South Region (Atlanta)
First Round
Mississippi Valley State Delta Devils def. Western Kentucky Hilltoppers. We start right off the bat with two unique mascots. The Hilltopper’s Big Red is perhaps the most mysterious mascot of them all. He looks like the love-child of the Red M&M and Ronald McDonald’s best friend. At first, I thought a hilltopper was going to be some sort of military guy – someone like Teddy Roosevelt reaching the top of San Juan Hill. I was wrong. The only explanation I can come up with for the name “Hilltopper” is that the school, in Bowling Green, is a beautiful hilltop campus. A Delta Devil is some sort of demonic creature that I presume comes from the Mississippi Valley. The school’s website doesn’t give a lot of help. Western Kentucky’s Big Red really defies all the rules. I suppose the only category it can fall into is the non-predatory animal. The Delta Devil looks like it will be pretty tough to beat, even in that fancy green cape.
Second Round
(16) Mississippi Valley State Delta Devils def. (1) Kentucky Wildcats. A game like this just makes me shake my head and consider instituting a No. 1 seed exemption. Seriously, No. 16 seeds are 0-108 in the history of the tournament, and I already know I’m picking at least two to win this year. This Delta Devil is going to be tough to beat.
(8) Iowa State Cyclones def. (9) Connecticut Huskies. This is kind of sad to think about, but I just don’t see how a Huskie stands up to a Cyclone.
These two look like cousins to me.
(12) Virginia Commonwealth Rams def. (5) Wichita State Shockers. A Shocker is basically a walking shock of wheat that has a Lady Elaine-like profile. When you get down to it, a Shocker is just a pile of grass. Even if you go back to the mascot’s roots, which paid homage to the fact that many Wichita State students shocked wheat as a summer job, I don’t think their heads would be hard enough to take out a ram.
(12) New Mexico State Aggies def. (5) Indiana Hoosiers. A few years ago New Mexico State really hurt its own chances in the mascot bracket by giving the guy in their logo a lasso instead of a six-shooter. Fortunately for the Aggies, a Hoosier is just a person from Indiana. While I found this pretty interesting explanation for the etymology of the word Hoosier, it really doesn’t help their cause.
(2) Duke Blue Devils def. (15) Lehigh Mountain Hawks. The Blue Devils are a perennial power in the Mascot Bracket (see 2010). At first glance, they seem to be a supernatural entity, bound for an epic clash against the Delta Devil in later rounds. After doing some research a couple of years ago though, I found that the Blue Devils are named for a squadron of French military made famous in World War I. A soldier shoots any kind of hawk, even a mountain one.
(10) Xavier Musketeers def. (7) Notre Dame Fighting Irish. This is actually a fight that I could imagine happening. Couldn’t you just imagine a hard-nosed Irishmen’s reaction if this guy walked into a pub. He would certainly pick a fight. Unfortunately for Patty though, the Musketeer would have a musket (or he would be known as something else). Unless the Fighting Irish start the fight with a sucker punch (which isn’t beyond the realm of imagination), the Musketeer wins.
(3) Baylor Bears def. (14) South Dakota State Jackrabbits. This one wouldn’t really be a fight. It would just be a snack.
(6) UNLV Runnin’ Rebels def. (11) Colorado Buffaloes. A man out west with a gun versus a buffalo. I think history has taught us how this one ends up.
Third Round
Iowa State Cyclones def. Mississippi Valley Delta Devils. This is an epic match-up. A super-natural entity against a killer weather system. I’m going with the Cyclone because it is a real thing and they are the higher seed.
New Mexico State Aggies def. VCU Rams. A look at the Aggies official site reveals that farmer is still packin’ steal. That means Ram stew.
Duke Blue Devils def. Xavier Musketeers. Rule 6 – Superior weapons.
UNLV Runnin’ Rebels def. Baylor Bears. Rule 5 – Human with weapon.
Regional Semis and Finals
Iowa State Cyclones def. New Mexico State Aggies. Duke Blue Devils def. Runnin’ Rebels. Iowa State punches their ticket to New Orleans by blowing past the Blue Devils.
West Region (Phoenix)
First Round
The Iona Gaels have a mascot that is “spunky” and “is consistent with the school motto ‘fight the good fight'” (from the official website)
Iona Gaels def. BYU Cougars. In my real bracket, I’m picking Iona to be this year’s VCU. That probably means they’ll get beat by the Jimmerless Cougars. In the mascot bracket, that little club is enough to fight off the cougar (okay, maybe its a little Scotch-Irish bias, but I’m a McCoy!).
Second Round
(1)Michigan State Spartans def. (16) LIU Brooklyn Blackbirds. This time the No. 1 seed cruises.
This statue sits on the campus of Saint Louis University. Reminds me of that old SNL skit, “You put your… in there”
(8) Memphis Tigers def. (9) Saint Louis Billikens. A Billiken is basically a chochtky (sp?). It’s a made-up good luck charm that some lady dreamed of 100 years ago. Weird, right? Picture a tiger – a huge, ferocious tiger – fighting the old troll key chain you had in high school. Not much of a fight, is it?
(12) Long Beach State 49ers def. (5) New Mexico Lobos. First of all, I love the fact that Long Beach State’s uniforms read simply “The Beach” across their chest. That doesn’t help them much in this fight against a wolf. What does help them is the giant pick ax this dude is carrying.
(13) Davidson Wildcats def. (4) Louisville Cardinals. I’m not really sure how this fight would go down, but I don’t see a Cardinal being able to mount much of an offense. Does Steph Curry have any eligibility left?
(15) Norfolk State Spartans def. (2) Missouri Tigers. I would really like to make the case for the Tigers here, but if this Mascot Bracket is going to have any integrity, I have to go with the armed and well-trained Spartan (plus, Michigan State vs. Memphis is coming in the next round of this region, and I assume your memory is long enough to notice if I am inconsistent here).
(10) Virginia Cavaliers def. (7) Florida Gators. I’m not sure if a sword is enough to take on a Gator, but if Swamp People has taught me anything, it has taught me that Gators can be manhandled by anybody (BTW, Swamp People hasn’t taught me anything).
(14) Iona Gaels def. (3) Marquette Golden Eagles. Rule 4 – human with a weapon.
(6) Murray State Racers def. (11) Colorado State Rams. This is a genuinely difficult one to judge, but the Murray State Racer is a thoroughbred horse. I could probably be swayed, but I think a horse is just too powerful.
Third Round
Michigan State Spartans def. Memphis Tigers. See the previous round – Norfolk State over Missouri.
Long Beach State 49ers def. Davidson Wildcats. Again, the man with the pick axe takes out the overgrown cat.
Norfolk State Spartans def. Virginia Cavaliers.
Murray State Racers def. Iona Gaels. This is an exception to rule 4. I just don’t see that shillelagh being enough against the thousand pound horse.
Regional Semis and Finals
Michigan State Spartans def. Long Beach State 49ers. The Spartans were some of the greatest warriors in history. The 49ers were some guys hoping to score a gold nugget. It would be a massacre. The Norfolk State Spartans def. the Murray State Racers. Again, Spartans are bad-asses. Finally, Michigan State Spartans def. the Norfolk State Spartans because ties go to the higher seed.
East Region (Boston)
Second Round
(16) UNC Asheville Bulldogs def. (1) Syracuse Orange. At least when Syracuse was the Orange Men, they had a fighting chance. Now that they’re just a color, they kill my mascot bracket every year.
(9) Southern Mississippi Golden Eagles def. (8) Kansas State Wildcats. Air-ground battles are the hardest to decide. It’s hard to imagine how this fight would even work, but I’m not sure how the wildcat would be able to mount an offense. Eagles are pretty powerful birds, and wildcats are not very big. A couple of good strikes at 80 mph would probably do it.
(5) Vanderbilt Commodores def. (12) Harvard Crimson. People love picking the Ivy League upset, but I don’t see it happening. This has already been established. Colors lose to everything.
(13) Montana Grizzlies def. (4) Wisconsin Badgers. Badgers are mean, but one would not stand a chance against an 800 pound grizzly bear.
(15) Loyola (MD) Greyhounds def. (2) Ohio State Buckeye. Remember when I said that colors lose to everything? So do plants. This region is killing me.
(10) West Virginia Mountaineers def. (7) Gonzaga Bulldogs. Mountaineers usually go pretty far in this bracket, largely due to the large beard, I mean shotgun, this guy is sporting.
(3) Florida State Seminoles def. (13) St. Bonaventure Bonnies. The Bonnies have gone through several different mascots over the years. They have settled on the Bona-Wolf. A Seminole could kill a wolf.
(11) Texas Longhorn def. (6) Cincinnati Bearcats. Bearcats are also known as Binturongs, which I think is a much cooler mascot name. They are tough little creatures, and a match against a Badger would be interesting. A match against a Longhorn would just be cruel.
Third Round
Southern Mississippi Golden Eagles def. UNC Asheville Bulldogs. If an eagle can beat a wildcat, it could beat a poor bulldog too.
Vanderbilt Commodores def. Montana Grizzlies. While a matchup between a Grizzly and The Commodores would be brutal, but I don’t think that is the kind of Commodore we’re talking about.
West Virginia Mountaineers def. Loyola (MD)Greyhounds. Rule 4 – human with weapon.
Florida State Seminoles def. Texas Longhorns. Again, rule 4.
Regional Semis and Finals
Vanderbilt Commodores def. Southern Mississippi Golden Eagles. Florida State Seminoles def. West Virginia Mountaineers. I feel like I might be getting into hostile and abusive territory here, so I’ll forgo more explanation, and just put Vanderbilt into the Final Four.
Midwest Region (Saint Louis)
First Round
Vermont Catamounts def. Lamar Cardinals. In case you were wondering, a cardinal is a little red bird that is quite popular in the midwest. I’m pretty sure the big wild cat would eat it.
California Golden Bears def. South Florida Bulls. This would be a devastatingly violent affair. This is all about rule 17.
Second Round
(1) North Carolina Tar Heels def. (16) Vermont Catamounts. The Tar Heel name is the stuff of legend, but according to the UNC website, it started during the Civil War and refers either to the North Carolina soldiers’ stubborn ability to stand and fight, as if they had tar on their heels; or was a slur used to make fun of the poor and dirty soldiers that made tar. For the purposes of the Mascot Bracket, I’m going with civil war soldier.
(9) Alabama Crimson Tide def. (8) Creighton Blue Jays. The Crimson Tide pose an interesting problem. Are they a weather-like mascot – like the tide rolling in? Are they just a color? Or are they elephants? If they are the tide rolling in, a blue jay could wait that out easily. If they are a color, then the animate bird wins. I’m going with elephant. Roll Tide.
(12) California Golden Bears def. (5) Temple Owls. Do I really need to explain this?
(15) Detroit Titans def. (2) Kansas Jayhawks. The Titans ruled the world before the Greek gods defeated them. They are also guys that look a lot like Spartans when turned into mascots. Jayhawks, besides looking a lot like a Foghorn Leg-horn, actually have a pretty interesting history. According to the school website, the Jayhawk refered to pioneers in Kansas that bugged other pioneers, notably from Nebraska. As Kansas moved toward statehood, there was quite a public debate over whether Kansas would be a free or a slave state. Ruffians on both sides of this battle were dubbed “Jayhawkers” and were known to rob, vandalize, sack, set fire to, and steal horses from the other side. In time, the Jayhawks referred mainly to the free-staters. So, that is a very long-winded way to determine that the true meaning of Jayhawk is not a stupid little bird, but a 1850s thug that was against slavery. Pretty cool, yes. Able to defeat a Greek god? I don’t think so.
This Gael is significantly different and more formidable than the Iona Gael.
(7) St. Mary’s Gaels def. (10) Purdue Boilermakers. The Boilermaker has a big hammer, but this version of the Gael is in full armor.
(14) Belmont Bruin def. (3) Georgetown Hoyas. And now, my annual explanation of Rule 10. You might be asking yourself, “What’s a Hoya?” Well, that is a question that Georgetown opponents have been chanting for decades. Wikipedia gives us the answer – it appears to have come from a chant, “Roxa Hoya,” which is loosely translated from Latin to “such rocks.” Hoya is basically Latin for “Such as.” So, if you’re using that – I think we finally found the only mascot that would lose to the Orange or the Buckeyes – a preposition. Yet, their mascot is a bulldog. A bulldog could be tough, but not against a Bruin (Rule 17).
(11) North Carolina State Wolfpack def. (6) San Diego State Aztecs. I am so tempted to insert a clip from The Hangover here, but it is kind of vulgar, so I won’t. Just google “one man wolfpack” for a laugh. The truth is, if NC State were a one-man wolfpack, the Aztecs could win. I’m assuming its an actual pack, and this statue confirms this.
Third Round
North Carolina Tar Heels def. Alabama Crimson Tide. This is a tough call, but I’m invoking rule 4.
California Golden Bears def. Michigan Wolverines. Sorry Red Dawn, Rule 17 strikes again.
St. Mary’s Gaels def. Detroit Titans. This is the mascot the Titans use. Have you seen Full Metal Jousting? That stuff is insane. I’m going with the guy in full armor.
NC State Wolfpack def. Belmont Bruins. Bears are tough, but a whole pack of wolves would never have to turn its back.
Regional Semis and Finals
North Carolina Tar Heels def. California Golden Bears. Rule 4. St Mary’s Gaels def. NC State Wolfpack. Rule 4, plus the armor would go a long way in fighting off wolf bites. North Carolina Tar Heels def. St. Mary’s Gaels. I don’t think the armor would stop the bullet.
Final Four (New Orleans)
Iowa State Cyclones def. Michigan State Spartans.
North Carolina Tar Heels def. Vanderbilt Commodores. This is a tough one. The Commodore outranks the Tar Heel, but that doesn’t mean he’s tougher. I’ll take the hardened Civil War vet in a fight.
Iowa State Cyclones def. North Carolina Tar Heel. The Tar Heel might stick in the mud, but it wouldn’t be enough to stand against a cyclone.
The Bruce Weber era at the University of Illinois is over. He finished his career at Illinois with a 210-101 record and a Big Ten record of 89-65. His career includes a national runner-up and two Big Ten titles. This does not look like the record of a former coach, but a closer look reveals the problem. Dee Brown and James Augustine graduated in 2006 with the most wins of any starters in Illinois basketball. Since then, the Illini have been 50-56 in the Big Ten and 1-3 in the NCAA tournament (they will presumably not make the tournament this year).
Weber seemed to be a decent guy. All accounts show that he ran a clean program in terms of NCAA rules. With a few notable exceptions, e.g. Jamar Smith and Jereme Richmond, his players have seemed to be decent guys too. Weber always seemed like an honest, hard-working, straight-shooter. He went to Wisconsin-Milwaukee and coached at Purdue and Southern Illinois. He is a Midwestern guy with a Midwestern ethic. He brought no glitz or glamour. His voice was always horse and his smile and orange blazer were always endearing.
The consensus opinion of Weber was that he was a good coach and a bad recruiter. The problem was that he was a decent recruiter, and only a decent coach. Close watchers of Illini basketball were frustrated by their lack of improvement. Guys like Demetri McCamey and Brian Randle had loads of talent, but seemed to make the same mistakes as seniors as they did as sophomores. The team seemed to constantly struggle against zone defenses. The easy basket on an in-bounds play or well drawn-up quick shot were rare. Basketball “experts” seemed to talk about Weber’s great motion offense. To me, his motion offense seemed too often to entail passing the ball around the perimeter for 30 seconds and then chucking up a three. When it was Head, Williams, and Brown doing the chucking, it worked brilliantly.
Illinois remains the best program in college basketball to never win a title. Over the last couple of seasons, it grew more obvious to me that Weber was not the man that would end that streak. That said, I take no joy from the firing of Bruce Weber. I also don’t worry much about him. He has been compensated very well at Illinois, and he will surely be on a coaching staff somewhere very soon. In the end, I will remember Weber as a decent guy and a decent coach that ran a decent program for awhile.
Is it too much to ask for more? In the current climate of NCAA sports, I’m not sure it is possible to be clean and win championships. A recent sports radio program asked Illinois fans, “Do you want a coach that is willing to cheat to win a championship?” In other words, do you want a temporary banner?
My answer is a resounding “no.” Am I being naive in thinking it’s still possible to win at Illinois without cheating? I really don’t think I am. I guess I just want to believe that it is possible to win and be (relatively) clean. Part of the problem is that the NCAA’s rule book is ridiculously long, and sometimes illogical. I’m sure that there are small-scale rules violations all the time. The real systemic problem seems to be the AAU coaches and the pseudo-agents that HS kids get when they are in 9th grade or earlier. When coaches get enmeshed with these shady characters, that is when the real muck gets stirred.
I would not want a guy like John Caliparri to be the coach at the U of I. I just couldn’t cheer for the guy because all of the banners he wins are temporary. I believe that it is still possible to put together a solid basketball program without getting all of the 5-star recruits and getting involved in all that comes with them. Teach good, fundamental basketball to hard-working athletes and I believe you can have a consistent sweet 16 program, and break through every once in awhile.
(BTW, if you do a Bruce Weber image search on google, it would be a good idea to include something like “coach” or “basketball,” or you will be quite surprised.)
“Sometimes we don’t have the words. Sometimes we don’t know what to do, but we can just be. And just sit, and perhaps hold someone’s hand and walk with them. It’s not always about doing or saying something. That bond can be transformational.”
I’m immediately reminded of Job’s friends. There are times when I hear about a friend’s problem, and I feel like I need to rush in to solve the problem. I often have to remind myself that a friend might not be looking for solutions. It’s easy to offer answers. It takes time, commitment and compassion to offer myself. Friendship – true friendship – isn’t an easy endeavor, but it is so worth it.
When I start to think of the friends in my life, I can easily become choked with emotion. I think about people with whom I’ve shared a moment in time:
High school friends with whom I shared a television show, a “secret club,” a perfect night on the roof of The Odyssey, parties at Weed’s (not weed parties), and one great victory over the BBC. I think of fraternity brothers with whom I shared a few beers, a few all-nighters, a few meetings of the TNC, a couple of trips to Virginia, and more than a few long, heart-felt talks.
I can think of the faces that have come in and out of my life and thank God for the moments that we shared. I can think of teammates, classmates, and colleagues that populate my memories. Even if we aren’t in contact anymore, I am so grateful to the people that have been the in the movie of my life.
And then I think of the co-stars. The ones that have done more than shape me. They are the ones that have formed me. So much of my hope comes from my friends.
My friends have loved me through difficult times. They have (as my Dad often says) “Multiplied my joy and divided my sorrow.” We’ve been together trough the valley of the shadow of death, and we have celebrated the greatest joys. There’s nothing like calling a friend with good news, or lightening my load with a quick phone call that turns into an hour-long conversation.
I love my friends, and I probably don’t tell them that enough. But then again, they probably know. To my friends, thank you. Thank you for being a source of hope, for showing me what it is like to walk with God. Thank you for offering me forgiveness when I don’t deserve it, and helping me when I could never pay you back. Thank you for revealing the love of Christ in your smile, your listening, your tears, and your embrace. Thank you, above all, for reminding me that I am never alone in this world.
When I think of hope, I think of my friends. And Jesus did to.
“‘As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete. This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.'” (John 15:9-13, NRSV)
It was to his friends that he entrusted his life. He was abandoned, denied, and betrayed, but his faith in his friends held fast. He knew that it would be his friends that carried out his mission in the world. Jesus wrote nothing save for what he wrote on the hearts of his friends. His friends would become the Church. All that claim Christ as their friend today do so because Jesus trusted his friends so long ago. For this we may all be grateful, for we are all offered the love that Jesus described – the love that is so strong that he would lay down his life.
“Dinner’s Ready!” Man, did I love hearing those two words when I was a kid. My Mom is a great cook, and I loved dinner time. Most of the time I would drop everything to get to the table. There were times, however when I might not answer the call right away. There were two main questions that determined my reaction time: What was I doing at the time? What was for dinner?
There were times when I’d be playing a game on the computer, and I just needed to finish one more level. There were times I was watching TV, and just wanted to wait until the commercial. There were times my buddies and I were playing basketball in the yard, and we just had to finish this game.
If heaven has a smell, I think it is garlic browning lightly in olive oil.
If dinner was spaghetti, it didn’t really matter what I was doing. I don’t think I ever had to be called twice to come for spaghetti. Whenever Mom made spaghetti the aroma would fill the entire house. It took several hours to cook, creating a crescendo of anticipation as I waited for the moment I could twirl that first forkful of garlic bliss. On those days, “Dinner’s Ready!” were my two favorite words, and there was no delay.
There was one thing however, that I did not like to eat as a kid. I need to try it again because my pallet has probably matured, but when I was a kid there was nothing worse than navy bean soup. I’m sure my Mom made great navy bean soup. It just wasn’t my favorite. For me, navy bean soup meant one bowl doused in ketchup, and then peanut butter and jelly. When I knew that navy bean soup was coming, “Dinner’s Ready!” was not exactly a clarion call.
Now that I’m an adult, “Dinner’s Ready” remains two of my favorite words. Now I’m usually the one calling out to my family. It is no longer so much the quality of the food that gets me excited about calling out “Dinner’s Ready!” I get excited because I know that shortly after saying those two words, the most important people in my world are going to be coming. Shortly after calling out “Dinner’s Ready!” I will hear the toys being put away (or dropped randomly). I will hear the distinct pitter-patter of my 18 month old daughter, and the much louder stomps of my 5-year-old daughter running into the kitchen. I know that soon the four of us will sit down together and eat. We will pray together. We will talk about our day. We will tell jokes. We will correct the baby when she throws her cup. We will pick up spills. We will be nourished in mind, body and soul, and we will be drawn a little closer together. There are few things I enjoy more than sitting around the table with the people I love most in the world.
Today – right now – God is calling out to all of us, “Dinner’s Ready!” God wants desperately for us to come to the table, sit down and enjoy the feast. God yearns for a chance to draw us closer together – all of us. God wants us to laugh, talk, cry, pray, correct each other when needed, forgive each other when needed, and love each other always. God invites all to the table, but not everyone will come.
Jesus tells a story in the Gospel of Luke about the great banquet.
Jesus replied, “ A certain man hosted a large dinner and invited many people. When it was time for the dinner to begin, he sent his servant to tell the invited guests, ‘Come! The dinner is now ready.’ One by one, they all began to make excuses. The first one told him, ‘I bought a farm and must go and see it. Please excuse me.’ Another said, ‘I bought five teams of oxen, and I’m going to check on them. Please excuse me.’ Another said, ‘I just got married, so I can’t come.’ When he returned, the servant reported these excuses to his master. The master of the house became angry and said to his servant, ‘Go quickly to the city’s streets, the busy ones and the side streets, and bring the poor, crippled, blind, and lame.’ The servant said, ‘Master, your instructions have been followed and there is still room.’ The master said to the servant, ‘Go to the highways and back alleys and urge people to come in so that my house will be filled. I tell you, not one of those who were invited will taste my dinner.’ ” (Luke 14:16-24, Common English Bible)
This story tells us a lot about God and how desperate God is to have the table full. If we are honest with ourselves, it tells us a lot about us too. God is willing to go to any length to fill the table with God’s children. The banquet has been prepared, all God needs now is guests. When we deny the invitation, God might be frustrated, but God will keep sending servants to find someone to come.
We all deny God’s call at some point. I know that God has called me to the feast over and over again. There are times when I have responded, and I have tasted grace. I have tasted forgiveness. I have tasted reconciliation. I know what it is like to take a seat at the gospel feast and feel the love of God. I have had a taste of the power of the Holy Spirit. I also know that there are too many times when I have ignored the invitation.
I have come up with my list of excuses. Like a child not wanting to come have bean soup, I have decided I’d rather play another inning of wiffleball, or solve another Carmen San Diego case. I’ve used lots of excuses to ignore God’s call. Like the excuses of the men in Jesus’s parable, they all seemed legitimate at the time, but they were all empty. Who would buy a field or a yoke of oxen sight unseen? These two excuses are probably just outright lies. And a marriage? How does getting married prevent anyone from going to a banquet? The excuses seem good on the surface, yet a closer look at them reveal just how shallow they are.
Some people love navy bean soup. I'm just not one of them.
Aren’t most of our excuses? What are the reasons we tell ourselves we cannot answer God? We lack the time. We lack the training or talent. We think someone else can do it. How many excuses do we come up with, but all of them are foolish. I mean, we’re not talking about an invitation to choke down some liver and onions. We’re invited to the greatest banquet that has ever been spread. God is calling to you, “Dinner’s Ready!”
Maybe you’re invited to your first taste at the table. You are invited. You are invited even if you are blind, lame, sick, hurting, broken, shattered, worried, fearful, or poor. If you are human, you are invited. Maybe you’ve been to the table before, and God is calling you for more. Maybe God is calling you for greater service, deeper Bible study, healthier living, fuller prayer, or more passionate worship.
Wherever you are on the path of life, whatever you’ve done, no matter who you are, you are invited. The banquet is ready – and it is ready now. It’s not ready in some distant and unreachable future. It’s not ready by and by when we all go to heaven. It’s ready now. God is ready now. The dinner is ready. Come and get it.
This blog post is a condensed form of a sermon I preached at Riverside United Methodist Church on February 26, 2012. If you are interested in CD with the entire worship service, please let me know in the comments, and I will contact you in private email about mailing information.
It is an interesting question, and one that starts an online Bible study produced by rethinkchurch.org. “A Journey to Hope” is a seven-week look at where hope can be found. Hope can be found in the most unlikely of places. In the midst of brokenness and disorder, hope can emerge. Like a lone sprout emerging from dry, cracked ground, hope defies the odds.
For the next few weeks, I am going to follow this study as it looks at relationships, self-esteem, work, money, suffering, and ends with hope. The study will include questions for reflection and discussion, video presentations and Biblical commentary. I’m looking forward to taking this journey, and I invite you to take it with me.
The introduction of the study can be found here. It poses another question: “Is it possible for something on the horizon to transform your life now?” As you look out into the horizon, what do you see? As you think about hope, I offer you this quote from Laura Rossbert, one of the online guides of the journey:
“Hope is rooted in the foundation that God prepares the way for us… There is a Spirit that is at work in our world that is making a difference with us… It is knowing that it is not all up to me.” Laura Rossbert
This has been my pattern for the three years since I dubbed myself “The Fat Pastor.” This whole blog started in October 2008 when I first stepped on a scale and had to push the little black sliding thingy all the way to the 300. Since then I’ve done little more than slowly inch the little sliding thingy on the top over too.
Last week at the doctor I weighed in at 329 pounds. It was an all-time high for me. And the sad part is, this is in the midst of working out. I’ve been working out fairly regularly again for about four months. It has been so frustrating to get on a scale after a hard workout and think, “This scale is a dirty rotten liar.” It turns out that when I’m working out, I don’t lose weight, I just slow the gain. When I stop working out – even for a week – the weight starts to pile on.
I know that weight is not the only indicator of health. My blood pressure remains a solid 120/80. I also had blood work done, and am interested in what I’ll find about things like blood sugar and cholesterol (they have been high for as long as I’ve been testing them). I know that it can be unhealthy to obsess over the number on the scale, but I also know that weight is AN indicator. It is a number I cannot ignore.
There was a time when I could shed lbs easily – without changing anything but my activity level. Go and play basketball a few times a week, lift some weights for a month or two, pound the treadmill for a few miles a week, and I would shed weight fairly quickly. Those days are gone. I’ve realized that I need to do more than adjust the output level. I need to adjust the input level too – and that has been much harder to do. I eat. I love to eat. I love to cook and eat. I love to go out and eat. I am a lifetime member of the Clean Plate Club, and if you’re not going to eat that, I’ll help you join too!
About 10 days ago I decided that it had to stop. Inspired by my brother (who dropped a toddler about a year ago), and aided by my Nook, I downloaded Lose It! This app is simple – it provides a quick and easy way to log calories. Everything I’ve eaten in the last 10 days goes into the log. Every time I exercise, that goes in too. So far, it has been amazing. I get a certain caloric budget everyday. As long as I stay under that budget, I should drop a pound a week and get back to my college football weight in about a year.
It turns out that if I’m paying attention, it has been fairly easy to keep under my budget. Six Girl Scout cookies after dinner were bad. Two aren’t a big deal. Two Egg McMuffins at McDonald’s aren’t that bad (600 calories), but now I leave out the hash browns. A bowl of Cocoa-Roos, plus a refill and a half, at the end of the night isn’t a great snack. A bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats can usually fit easily under my budget. I’m avoiding sweets and chips, and really enjoying apples and air-popped popcorn sprinkled with hot sauce. Will it last? I don’t know, but a little positive reinforcement goes a long way, and my scale has stopped lying to me.
The results so far have been astounding. Remember the pattern I described at the top? Today, it went like this: Workout, step on scale, (see 317) shout “YES!” and pump fist in front of four other guys in locker room. I pray that this cycle “ends” with repeat too.
Girls, I felt like I needed to share this with you too. There might be times when you find yourself in a precarious situation by no fault of your own. There are people out there that are simply predators. While I believe that most predators use emotional pain and lack of self-love as a weapon, there are some that use simple brute force. That being said, I hope to teach you the effectiveness of a well placed kick to the groin. Or maybe I can let someone like Erin Weed, one of my personal heroes, teach you at a Girls Fight Back seminar. I’m sure I’ll take you both to one someday.
Today is Valentine’s Day, and on this day there are a few things I want you to know about love.
First of all, I love God. I love God with my whole heart, mind, soul, and strength. There are times when I fall short of what that means in my life, but I try to make the love of God the driving force behind everything I do. I know also that God loves me. God’s love for me is stronger than my failures. God’s love is steadfast and endures forever. Because of God’s love, I am able to love.
Secondly, I love your mother. I have loved her for fourteen years, and everyday that we spend together I love her more. The love that your mother and I share is strengthened by our love of God. As we get closer to each other, we get closer to God too. She and I share a bond that I cannot fully put into words. You are a product of a love that is very powerful, and that makes you powerful. Right now you are young enough and sweet enough to like it when you see us hug and kiss. Usually you want to join in and turn it into a “family hug.” Eventually you will probably think it’s “gross,” but you should know that it will never stop.
I want to raise you as girls that love God, and I pray that someday you will find someone that loves you as much as I love your mother. It’s my job to teach you what that feels like.
It is terrifying to think of you growing up, because growing up can be so painful. It can be so dangerous, and I want to protect you from all of those dangers. Yet I know that I cannot protect you by keeping you sheltered. Right now your Mom and I are the most important people in your world. I know that won’t always be the case, so I’m trying to make the most of it now. I know that there will be people coming into your life. Some will be positive, some will be negative.
Some will love you for who you are, and some will use you for what you can do for them. Some will laugh with you, and some will hurt you. Some will appreciate your beauty, and others might abuse it. The only way I can protect you is to teach you how to tell the difference. It’s my job to teach you that love is never about jealousy, violence, manipulation, lust, or power, and that healing is always possible.
That’s why we have “Daddy-Daughter Date Night.” That is why I read to you before you go to bed. That is why we turn off the radio in the car on the way to preschool. That is why we turn off the TV and play in the evening. That is why I get home as soon as I can every night. I want to take every moment I can to teach what it feels like to be loved unconditionally.
I love talking with you, listening to your stories, eating dinner with you, and treating you like you are the most important person in the world. I love asking you about your favorite books, and teaching you about sports. I love hearing about your friends, finding out what makes you mad, or happy, or excited. I love holding you in my arms. I love the smell of your hair. I love your slobbery, open-mouthed, 18-month-old kisses; and your surprisingly strong five-year-old hugs. I love when you touch my cheek and smile. I love to hear you sing. I love hearing you laugh. When you dance, I see heaven.
Someday I pray that you will find someone that loves those things too. But first, you need to love you too. Love your compassion. Love your kindness. Love your courage. Love your imagination. Love your strength. Love your dreams. Love your intellect. Love your body. Love mercy. Love justice. Love humility. Love your God.
You’ll never see me wear a shirt like this. I understand the sentiment. I understand what it means to want to protect you. I will always want to protect you, but I hope that someday I will be able to let you protect yourself. If I ever feel the need to go get my shot gun, it will be because of my own failure, not yours.
Happy Valentine’s Day. I hope now you understand a little bit more about love. It is, after all, what we are created for.
The United Methodist Church is dying. I have heard the numbers, and they don’t lie. I’m not going to quote them here, but trust me. The numbers aren’t pretty. And it’s not just the United Methodist Church. In the United States, churches of all brands, denominations, theology, and politics are seeing decline. There are some that celebrate the death of religion.
But I’m here to tell you that the reports of the death of the United Methodist Church have been greatly exaggerated. Is it the same Church it was 50 years ago? No – Thank God. The numbers tell one story, and it is an important story that we need to pay attention to. There are many reasons why churches have been in decline for the last forty years. I was reminded this week that the United Methodist Church is about more than numbers.
Today I celebrated the wonderful and holy meal of Communion. I enjoyed this meal in a conference room of the United Methodist Building in Washington DC. It is a building that sits at a corner. Across one street is the Supreme Court building. Across the other street is the US Capitol. I’ve spent the last few days amongst leaders in the United Methodist Church with the General Board of Church and Society. It has been a full week.
It has been full of information, meetings, inspiration, prayer, walking, fellowship, and friendship. I have met two Congressmen, and a General Secretary. I have stood in awe of the great monuments dedicated to the history of this nation. My greatest thrill however, has been the chance to meet the amazing young leaders that have dedicated their lives to serving Christ in the United Methodist Church. I’ve met real people with hopes, passion, talent, and skill. I’ve shared stories, ideas, and laughs.
This whole experience has been incredibly uplifting. Today as I walked toward the bread and the cup, I was filled with hope. I felt an amazing rush of power – Holy Spirit power. I looked around at the faces of people that were once colleagues, and are now friends. I saw Jordan, Becky, Chris, Beth, Chris, Bethany, Jessica, Ann, Andrew, and so many others. I looked at the faces of these servant leaders, and I felt the power of hope.
I still know all the numbers. I’m not hiding my head in the sand as the church is in decline. Even while I’ve been here I have heard the stories of church decline, and of the struggles that we face across the United States connection. This week though has been a great reminder that our church – the imperfect, troubled, struggling church I love – is about more than numbers.
My hope rests above all in the Jesus’ love and righteousness. My hope resides also in the leaders that are working to open hearts, minds, and doors in the name of Jesus Christ.
5K 36:00 (Race for the Cure, Jun. '12)
35:15 (Firecracker Run, Jul. '12)
33:47 (Crimestoppers, Aug. '12)
31:40 (Lagomarcino's, Oct. '12)
26:52 (CASI St. Patrick's Day, Mar. '13)
26:28 (Railroad Days, Jun. '13)* *2nd place in age division
26:40 (Casa Guanajuato, Nov. '13)
30:30 (Modern Woodmen Knockout Hunger, Sep '14)** **3rd place in age division
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All opinions and ideas are my own, unless otherwise noted. All opinions and ideas are subject to change depending on my own social location, events of the day, or my mood (it's all about the context, man!)
The Fat Pastor 
