March 30, 2010 · 1:22 pm

Mascot Bracket: Final Four Update

The Mascot Bracket has come roaring back to life on the strength of Duke and West Virginia.  In my yahoo public group with 30 submissions, the Mascot Bracket is one of three that had two Final Four teams correct. Of the six brackets in this little contest, here are the standings:

1. Chalk, 62 points (62 possible)
2. Barack Obama, 59 (59 possible)
3. Mascot Bracket, 56 (72 possible)
4. My 3-year-old, 58 (74 possible)
5. Joe Lunardi, 53 (69 possible)
6. Fat Pastor, 53 (53 possible)

Possible scenarios:
Michigan St. beats Butler (Spartan would definately beat a bulldog), then my daughter will win with 74 points despite picking Montana to win the national championship

West Virginia beats Duke, Joe Lunardi will move up to either No. 1 or 2.

If Duke and Butler win, then the Mascot Bracket will be victorious, not only in this small pool, but in my whole yahoo group.

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March 22, 2010 · 11:56 am

Mascot Bracket Sweet 16 Update

To make a long story short, the Mascot Bracket has not done well – but it has had a few shining moments.

After Round One:

1. Barack Obama, 25 points
2. Chalk, 22
3. Joe Lunardi, 21
4. Fat Pastor, 19
5. My 3-year-old, 18
6. Mascots, 17

What made matters worse were the devastating losses of the Vanderbilt Commodores and the Oklahoma State Cowboys in the first round. The Mascots should have done better. I had the Cowboys winning the Midwest Region, but they lost to the Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets. ATLSpartan told me on the comments section that I should have gone with the Yellow Jackets because they are plural, and a swarm of yellow jackets would likely do a Cowboy in. I probably should have gone with the Ramblin’ Wreck, which would have little trouble running over the Cowboy.

I should have known that the Racer would trample the old Naval officer. All he has is a sword, and Vandy doesn't even use this logo anymore. Now it's just a V inside a star.

But what really hurt was Vanderbilt. I had the Commodores going all the way to the championship, but they fell to the Murray State Racers. I should have known that someone ranking that high in the Navy probably would not have seen combat in quite a few years. Plus, the logo shows that they only have a sword. A thuroughbred, with jockey, trampled the old sailor.

In the second round the Mascot Bracket had some redemption.  Of course a Jayhawk would lose to a panther.  It was also obvious that a Gael would dismember a Wildcat, especially this peekaboo wildcat.  After round two:

1. Obama, 43 points (Like his presidency, Obama’s picks started off fast, but are now going to suffer a slow demise.  He had Kansas going all the way, but Northern Iowa was his big Glenn Beck Tea-Bagging party).
2. Chalk, 38 points (102 possible)
3. The Fat Pastor, 37 points (145 possible – The Ohio State pick in the Final Four is looking good, and I’m kicking myself for changing my mind at the last minute with ‘Nova. I had Duke in the Final Four because I thought everybody hates Duke, so no one picks them, but I chickened out at the last minute).
4. Joe Lunardi, 33 points (89 possible. The inventor of the term Bracketology is going down, and he is going down hard. He had Wisconsin over Kentucky and Kansas winning it all).
5. Mascots, 32 points (80 possible. Having two teams in the final four go out in the first round makes it hard to win).

These five brackets are all in a free yahoo group that has 30 picks.  The Mascot Bracket is tied for 28th.  The only bracket below the mascots was filled out by my three-year-old, who picked Montana to win it all.  I should add that the leader of the group is my nephew.  He is two.

P.S. How overrated is the Big East?

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March 15, 2010 · 11:19 pm

The 2010 Mascot Bracket

It is bracket-time.  Here’s my second annual NCAA tournament picks based solely on which mascot would win in a fight.  I have made some changes after commenters pointed out two mistakes I made.  I entered  this bracket into a yahoo public group along with an expert, picking all the favorites, my three-year-old daughter’s picks, President Barack Obama’s picks, and my own actual picks.

There are a few rules to follow:

  1. Inanimate objects, e.g. colors and plants, always lose to animate objects.
  2. Predators beat non-predators and unarmed humans.
  3. Humans beat non-predators.
  4. Humans with weapons beat predators.
  5. Humans with weapons beat humans without weapons.
  6. Humans with superior weapons win.
  7. Supernatural beings and weather systems beat almost anyone.
  8. Ties go to the high seed.
  9. Prepositions lose to everything (see Hoyas vs. Bearcats)

MIDWEST

(1) Kansas Jayhawks def. (16) Lehigh Mountain Hawks.  I’m calling this one a tie.  They’re both hawks.  The higher seed wins.

(8) UNLV Runnin Rebels def. (9) Northern Iowa Panthers. Human with weapon beats a predator.  This looks like a clear Rule 4, but a Runnin Rebel has Civil War weaponry, and a Panther is a serious animal.  I think the Black Panther would love to take a shot at a confederate soldier, but I’m sticking with my rules.  If the Rebel could keep his distance (maybe by doing a lot of runnin), he could win.

(5) Michigan State Spartans def. (12) New Mexico State Aggies.  An Aggie might have a gun, but not necessarily.  Plus, have you seen 300?  Their sparkling abs would shock the poor farmers into submission.

(13) Houston Cougars def. (4) Maryland Terrapins.  The first upset of my bracket is not completely off-the-wall.

(6) Tennessee Volunteers def. (11) Sand Diego State Aztecs.  The Aztecs were bad asses, but volunteers in the war of 1812 would have had muskets.

(14) Ohio Bobcats def. (3) Georgetown Hoyas.  Another significant upset.  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 bobcat is a pretty mean cat, and I think it would beat even a bulldog.

(10) Oklahoma State Cowboys def. (7) Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets.  The Cowboy wins unless he is allergic – but I cannot base this scientific endeavor on pure conjecture.  The Cowboy would squish the yellow jacket.

(15) UC-Santa Barbara Gauchos def. (2) Ohio State Buckeyes.  I thought that UC-Santa Barbara was known as the Banana Slugs, which would jeopardize their NCAA chances – unless they had the good fortune of going up against the Buckeyes.  A reader informed me that they were never the Slugs – that is UC Santa Cruz.  Even if they were the slugs, they would win over a plant. Since they are spanish-language Cowboys, it’s an easy upset pick.

Second Round: Rebels def. Jayhawks; Spartans def. Cougars; Volunteers def. Bobcats; Cowboys def. Gauchos, this is a tough one.  I’m not sure how I pick between an English-speaking Cowboy and a Spanish-speaking cowboy without looking like some border-patrolling, xenophobic a-hole.  I’ll take the higher seed.

Regional semifinals: Rebels def. Spartans, the glistening abs are no match a musket ball.  Cowboys def. Volunteers, Cowboys have superior weapons to soldiers in the War of 1812.

Regional Final: Okalahoma State Cowboys def. UNLV Runnin Rebels.

WEST

(16) Vermont Catamounts def. (1) Syracuse Orange.  Seriously, Syracuse kills me every year.  I don’t even know what a Catamount is, but if they move, they would beat the Orange. I’ll have to do some research before the second round.

(9) Florida State Seminoles def. (8) Gonzaga Bulldogs.  See Rule 4.

(12) UTEP Miners def. (5) Butler Bulldogs.  Bad day for bulldogs.  I’m counting the pick axe as a weapon.

(4) Vanderbilt Commodores def. (13) Murray State Racers.  The logo for the racers is a racehorse.   The Commodores gave us “Brick House,” which is a plus. They also gave us Nichole Richie, which is not such a plus.  Killing them softly with their song, Commodores win.  Commodores have swords.  Jockeys have whips.  This might be the excpetion to Rule 4, but I’m sticking with the human with a weapon over an animal.

(6) Xavier Musketeers def. (11) Minnesota Golden Gophers.  The Musketeers have an um, musket.  Gophers have buck teeth. Muskets win.

(3) Pittsburgh Panthers def. (14) Oakland Grizzlies.  This is one of the best contests of the first round.  I seriously am not sure who would win this fight.  My first thought was the Grizzly, but have you seen how big a panther is? I’m really not sure, so I’m cheating, and going with the higher seed.

(10) Florida Gators def. (7) BYU Cougars def.  This is another great contest of the first round.  Again, I’m not sure who would win.  The Cougar’s agility would come in handy, but I’m not sure it could do enough damage to the Gator, and one good bite is all it would take.  Plus, if the Gator could draw the Cougar into the water, it would be over.

(2) Kansas State Wildcats def. (15) North Texas Mean Green.  Even though North Texas uses a bird in their logo, they are still just a color. No matter how mean they claim to be, this is rule #1.

Second Round: Seminoles def. Catamounts, a Catamount is a wild cat; Commodores def. Miners, sword over pick axe; Musketeers def. Panthers, This seems like a textbook Rule 4.  A musketeer whould beat a panther, but muskets are not the most powerful and dependable of weapons.  This depends on the size ring we have.  If the Musketeer could keep his distance, he might win.  If this is close quarters, the panther would tear him apart.  That all being said, the musketeer would also have a sword, so I’m going with Musketeer; Gators def. Wildcats, the Gator just beat a Cougar.

Regional Semifinals: Commodores def. Seminoles, according to wikipedia, a Commodore was the highest rank in the US Navy until the Civil War, and today is the highest rank below Admiral.  Plus, the Seminoles lose points for racial insensitivity.  The NCAA shouldn’t even allow them in the tournament if they followed their own rules; Musketeers defeat Gators.

Regional Finals: Vanderbilt Commodores defeat Xavier Musketeers.

EAST

(16) E. Tennessee St. Buccaneers def. (1) Kentucky Wildcats.  I’m not happy about this, but Rule #4 strikes again.

(8) Texas Longhorns def. (9) Wake Forrest Demon Deacons.  I do not think Deacons – even Demon ones – generally pack weapons.  Longhorns, on the other hand are really big and strong and mean.

(5) Temple Owls def. (12) Cornell Big Red.  Rule #1.

(4) Wisconsin Badgers def. (13) Wooford Terriers.  This sort of depends on what kind of terrier you are using.  A rat terrier would be a snack for badger.  A bull terrier, on the other hand, would prove more interesting.  Unfortunately for Wofford, their mascot looks more like a Boston terrier.  Game, set, match for Wisconsin.

(6) Marquette Golden Eagles def. (11) Washington Huskies. Unless of course, the Golden Eagles are eagles made of gold, which would make them an inanimate object.  But in a fight between a gold-colored eagle and a huskie, I’ll take the eagle.  I just don’t see the Huskie being able to mount much of an offensive.

(14) Montana Grizzlies def. (3) New Mexico Lobos.  Another tough call, but I don’t think that the fact that the wolf is Spanish would help.

(7) Clemson Tigers def. (10) Missouri Tigers.  I’m picking the Tigers.  Rule #8.

(2) West Virginia Mountaineers def. (15) Morgan State Bears.  The third bear-type mascot in the field, and they go 1-2.  This time because of Rule #4.

Second Round: Buccaneers def. Longhorns, I’m really starting to not like this rule, according to this system, 16 seeded East Tennessee State is going to make a historic run; Badgers def. Owls; Grizzlies def. Eagles; Mountaineers def. Tigers.

Regional semifinals: Bucs def. Badgers; Mountaineers def. Grizzlies.

Regional Final: West Virginia Mountaineers def. East Tennessee State Buccaneers.

SOUTH

The original Blue Devils – French fighters during World War I

(1) Duke Blue Devils def. (16) Arkansas Pine Bluff Golden Lions.  The Blue Devil name came from a squadron fighting in France during World War I.  If the lion is made out of gold, it might be tough, but it might also be inanimate.  If it is just a gold-colored lion, it would be a dead-colored lion after that bulls-eye shooting Blue Devil on the left was done with it.

(8) California Bears def. (9) Louisville Cardinals.  This is one of the most one-sided contests of the first round.

(5) Texas AM Aggies def. (12) Utah St. Aggies.  This will be a popular 12 over 5 pick on many brackets – but not mine.  Rule #8 applies.

(4) Purdue Boilermakers def. (13) Siena Saints.  A Boilermaker has a great big hammer.  A saint has a Bible.  While the Bible can be a pretty destructive weapon in the wrong hands, I’m going with the Boilers.

(6) Notre Dame Fighting Irish def. (11) Old Dominion Monarchs.  Monarchs are not inherently armed, and they are generally not used to fighting for themselves.  Irish, on the other hand, are a people known for their large cans of whoop-ass.

This is a bearcat. Check out the size of those claws.

(3) Baylor Bears def. (14) Sam Houston State Bearkats.  A bearcat is also known as a binturong, which actually looks like a cross between a bear and a cat, and it looks like a badass. I would like to pick the binturong, but Bearkats lose on general principle for spelling Cat with a K.  Bears and Grizzlies finish 3-2 in the first round.

(10) St. Mary’s Gaels def. (7) Richmond Spiders.  A Gael is someone that is Gaelic, or Irish.  They step on the spider – even if it is a big bad one.

Robert Morris signed the Declaration of Independence, which is cool, but this would not help him in a deathmatch with a wildcat.

(2) Villanova Wildcats def. (15) Robert Morris Colonials. Colonials are not inherently armed. Their logo shows them armed only with a flag. Plus, Robert Morris was just a big fat banker that helped finance the Revolution.  He would be a nice meal for a wildcat.

Second Round: Blue Devils def. Bears; Boilermakers def. Aggies, this comes down to a hammer versus a shovel.  In actuality, both the Utah State Aggies and the Texas A&M Aggies use a dog for mascot, so Boilermaker advances either way.  Bears def. Irish, It would be great to see a drunken Irishman wrestle a bear.  Great in the same way it is great to see a traffic accident.  Gaels def. Wildcats, the Gaels win because they are depicted as some pretty fierce knight-like warriors with swords and armor.Regional semifinals: Devils def. Boilermakers, Gaels def. Bears.

Regional Final: Duke Blue Devils def. St Mary’s Gaels.

Final Four

Vandebilt Commodores def. Oklahoma State Cowboys and Duke Blue Devils defeat West Virginia Mountaineers.

Championship: Vanderbilt over Duke

A Commodore, as previously stated, is a high-ranking officer in the US Navy.  The Blue Devils were named for a French military unit in World War I.  I’m going with the Commodores because I love America.

NOTE: This year I’m going to enter this bracket into a few free online contests to see how I fare.

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March 11, 2010 · 4:36 am

Jesus, Pilate, Barabbas, and centuries of violence

As we approach Easter, my church continues to work through Adam Hamilton’s 24 Hours that Changed the World.  This Sunday, we will be looking at Jesus before Pilate.  As found in the gospel of Mark, the story goes like this:

As soon as it was morning, the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council. They bound Jesus, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate. Pilate asked him, ‘Are you the King of the Jews?’ He answered him, ‘You say so.’ Then the chief priests accused him of many things. Pilate asked him again, ‘Have you no answer? See how many charges they bring against you.’ But Jesus made no further reply, so that Pilate was amazed.

Now at the festival he used to release a prisoner for them, anyone for whom they asked. Now a man called Barabbas was in prison with the rebels who had committed murder during the insurrection. So the crowd came and began to ask Pilate to do for them according to his custom. Then he answered them, ‘Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?’ For he realized that it was out of jealousy that the chief priests had handed him over. But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have him release Barabbas for them instead. Pilate spoke to them again, ‘Then what do you wish me to do with the man you call the King of the Jews?’ They shouted back, ‘Crucify him!’ Pilate asked them, ‘Why, what evil has he done?’ But they shouted all the more, ‘Crucify him!’ So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, released Barabbas for them; and after flogging Jesus, he handed him over to be crucified.

Gospel of Mark 15:1-15 New Revised Standard Version

Here we have an incredibly powerful narrative of Jesus, Pilate and Barabbas.  If used properly, this story can be a mirror to our own souls – forcing the reader to ask the question, “What do you wish me to do with the man?”  In this dramatic scene, the people are given a choice.  The Gospel of Mark presents this choice in clear and uncertain terms.  Barabbas is describes as a rebel who murdered someone during an insurrection.  He was an enemy of the state – and he used violence to achieve his goal.

Barabbas was resentful of Roman rule and wanted, like so many Judeans at the time, to be free of Roman rule.  For centuries Judea had been under the thumb of one world superpower or another.  Rome was just another in a long line of foreign rulers.  The people longed to be free of oppression.  Barabbas had followed one path toward freedom.  We don’t know if he lead a great uprising, or if he was just a part of a troublesome skirmish, but the details of his crime are not important.  He is presented as a symbol.  He is the path of liberation through violence.

More than this though, he is the way of the world.  His path is the same path as the Romans.  Though he had the goal of overthrowing Roman rule, his means were the same that Rome used.  His path of violence was, in many ways, the only one that people knew.  It was the way of the world – it was the way of “might makes right.”  He wanted to make a new Kingdom, based on God’s law and God’s people, but he used the tactics upon which the Kingdom of Rome was built.  They were the same tactics on which the Kingdom of Perisa was built, and the Kingdom of the Babylonians, and the Kingdom of the Pharoah.

Jesus presents a different option. He was trying to build the Kingdom of God, which can only be built with peace, grace, humility and self-sacrifice.  Jesus told his disciples to love their enemies, to sell their possessions, to leave their families and their status and their well-being and their comfort.   Barabbas said, “Pick up your weapon and follow me.”  Jesus said, “Pick up your cross and follow me.”

As we read the Gospel account of the people choosing to set Barabbas free, we must remember that the choice is ours.  Everyday we stand in that crowd.  Everyday we hear the chief priests – the pompous, the powerful, the comfortable, the talking-heads, the radio hosts, our friends, our co-workers, our neighbors – egging us on to set Barabbas free.  Everyday we must choose between the way of the world and the way of God.

We work either to build kingdoms of men, or the Kingdom of God.  Every time we choose to work for the good of others, every time we seek out a closer relationship with the outcast, every time we sacrifice our comfort or status for the sake of love, we reverse the decision that was made that day.  When we pay a little more for fair trade coffee, when we make an effort to recycle our trash, when we pick up our Bible and spend some time with God, when we ask a friend if it’s okay to pray for them, when we go to worship instead of sleeping in, when we witness to our faith through word and deed, we reverse the decision that was made that day.

Don’t let evil ones tell you that the decision was made by the Jewish crowds.  Don’t let them get away with pawning off this decision on them, because we are there making the same decision everyday.  Don’t let Pilate off because he tried to “wash his hands of this.”  It’s not that easy.  Jesus’ blood isn’t washed away with water and a towel.

This text has been misused to justify violence against millions for centuries.  It has been misused by people who want to avoid the question, “What do you want me to do with this man?”  Don’t let Mel Gibson’s movie tell you that it was the Jews that killed Jesus.  Don’t believe the lies.  Too often, depictions of the gospels in drama – called passion plays – get lazy.  They allow and sometimes encourage the viewer to side with Pilate, the reluctant Roman, and denounce the actions of the Jewish mob.

Don’t forget that the road from Oberammergau to Dachau is only a short drive in a car, and throughout history has been shorter than that in the hearts of those looking for someone to blame.  Read about the history of Oberammergau.  Read about Hitler’s visit in 1934.  Read about the changes they have made since 2000, and wonder why it took so long.  I live close to the longest running passion play in America, and yet its website is conspiculously free of anything about the link between violence against Jews and passion plays.

There are those that have deeply emotional responses to passion plays.  Part of my faith development includes a powerful experience with a passion play.  They are designed to emit emotional response.  There is a basic human response to the suffering of an innocent that should invoke emotional response.  All I am saying is, be careful.

If you see a passion play this year, do so with your eyes wide open.  Be honest with your own feelings.  Those emotions you feel – are they about the sin you see in yourself?  Do you have a contrite and broken heart because you see yourself in the crowd?  Do you see yourself in Pilate, trying to wash your hands of a something that you had the power to stop?  Or are you angry with those that killed Jesus?  Are you quick to blame others for sin in which we all participate?

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March 6, 2010 · 12:23 am

A letter to Dick Vitale, clown prince of college basketball

Dick Vitale, in all his Dukie glory

Dear Dick,

Let me just say that at one time I was a big fan.  I loved your excitement.  I loved the exuberance you brought to broadcasting.  I loved the “Better get a TO, baby.”  I loved it when you shouted “Slam bam jam!”  But somewhere along the way, you went from being a broadcaster into a character.  I’m not sure when it happened, but you went from being a sincerely excited fan of college basketball that just happened to have a mic, and turned into a caricature of yourself.  You and John Madden actually have a lot in common in this regard.  Maybe it was the fame.  Maybe it was when ESPN and CBS turned March Madness into a billion dollar extravaganza.  I can’t pinpoint the moment you jumped the shark, but in my mind it coincides with the moment you became Duke’s press agent.

Everyone knows it.  You are a Duke shill.  Your devotion to all things ACC, and Duke in particular is nauseating.  I used to love Duke too.  I became a college basketball fan watching Johnny Dawkins against Pervis Ellison in the Final Four.  I remember watching Laettner’s shot in my basement.  I loved watching Bobby Hurley upset UNLV (though looking back now I believe a lot of the Duke love at the time was as much about race and culture as it was about basketball).  Duke is a great program.  There are a lot of Duke haters out there, and much of it is jealousy.  They have won a lot of games, been to a lot of Final Fours, and they seem to do it with class.  But your devotion to all things Coach K has reached its limit, and it became so clear in the last couple of weeks.

A few weeks ago Illinois upset Michigan State on their home floor.  The Spartans are the class of the Big Ten.  At the time they were ranked No. 5 in the nation.  Illinois was unranked, facing a difficult stretch of their schedule, and in desperate need of a signature win to help their NCAA tournament resume.  In addition to this, it was College Game Day’s game of the week. The Game Day crew had been there all day.  It was the first time that Game Day had been to Champaign.  So you and Digger and two other ACC guys had worked the students and fans into a lather since 9 a.m.  When the Illini won, the student section stormed the court to celebrate.

Was it necesarry?  Who cares?  It was fun.  It was exciting.  It was a big win for the Illini, and storming the court is something unique to college basketball.  It is a part of what makes college basketball special.  Yet you, the clown prince of college basketball, got on your high horse and admonished the Illini fans for celebrating too much.  Aren’t you the guy that has become a millionaire for over-the-top celebrations?  Your point was that the Illini were too good to celebrate beating Michigan State.  They should act like it was no big deal – even though your network was saying all day and all week that it was a huge deal.  The Illini fans should have shown more restraint.  OK, fine.  Illinois should expect to win at home.  I’ll give you that, Dickie V.

But then a couple of nights ago Maryland beat Duke.  Duke was ranked No. 4.  Maryland was ranked No. 23.  After the win, the student section stormed the court (they then went outside and rioted, literally).  Where was your admonishment?  Where was your righteous indignation?  Why shouldn’t Maryland show some restraint?  I didn’t watch the game, but I’m pretty sure you weren’t ripping the Terrapin fans – for doing the same thing as the Illini fans just a couple of weeks before.  What was the difference?  It was because in your eyes, beating Duke is something special. 

Apparantly, rushing the court is always justified when beating the great and mighty Blue Devils.  They have, after all, been to one Final Four and won one national championship since 2000.  But wait, that is the exact same resume Maryland has, and Maryland did it more recently then Duke.  And Michigan State has won one national championship and been to four Final Fours since 2000.  Yet somehow Maryland, a ranked team and probably a lock for the NCAA tournament, beating No. 4 Duke is cause for riotous celebration.  But when Illinois, an unranked bubble team,  rushes the court after beating No. 5 Michigan State, they should show restraint.

Come on, Dick.  We all know you are on Duke’s payroll.  We know that ESPN coddles the Big East and ACC, but this is ridiculous.  Next time you are about to start screaming about how great the Dukies are, maybe you should get a T.O., baby.

Sincerely,

The Fat Pastor

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March 1, 2010 · 10:55 am

Three year old theologian

My daughter has a little Bible that she loves to “read.”  It is a little copy of New Testament and Psalms that is about four inches long.  She was sitting on my wifes lap the other day “reading” from her Bible, and said this:

“On the way to the cross, Jesus saw his disciples and said come with me to die and have peace.”

I thought that was pretty good.  Actually, I was pretty much blown away by what she said, but then she read from another passage.  I wrote it down as she was speaking, so this is what she said, word for word:

“Jesus went to the cross and died.  But he came back, and he was happy.  And they were all happy.  And the nails were gone and his tummy was fine.  And his body was awesome.  And he didn’t whine.  He was happy.”

This is where I am tempted to add my reflection, but I have a feeling that I couldn’t possibly be as poignant as her.

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February 25, 2010 · 1:10 am

Gethsemane

The Garden of Gethsemane has always been one of my favorite passages of Scripture.  The most vivid description of it is found in the Gospel of Mark.

They went to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, ‘Sit here while I pray.’ He took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be distressed and agitated. And he said to them, ‘I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.’ And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. He said, ‘Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want.’ He came and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, ‘Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep awake one hour? Keep awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.’ And again he went away and prayed, saying the same words. And once more he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy; and they did not know what to say to him. He came a third time and said to them, ‘Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? Enough! The hour has come; the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand.’

Immediately, while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, arrived; and with him there was a crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders. Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, ‘The one I will kiss is the man; arrest him and lead him away under guard.’ So when he came, he went up to him at once and said, ‘Rabbi!’ and kissed him. Then they laid hands on him and arrested him. But one of those who stood near drew his sword and struck the slave of the high priest, cutting off his ear. Then Jesus said to them, ‘Have you come out with swords and clubs to arrest me as though I were a bandit? Day after day I was with you in the temple teaching, and you did not arrest me. But let the scriptures be fulfilled.’ All of them deserted him and fled.

A certain young man was following him, wearing nothing but a linen cloth. They caught hold of him, but he left the linen cloth and ran off naked.

Mark 14:32-52 (New Revised Standard Version)

It is interesting to me that in later Gospels, this story gets truncated.  In Luke, which most scholars agree was written after Mark, Jesus’ experience in Gethsemane was much briefer, and the sorrow and agony he experienced was not as graphic.  The Gospel of John, which most scholars agree was the last of the four Biblical gospels, does not include the agony in Gethsemane at all.

“Christ in Gethsemane” by Michael O’Brien. Go to http://www.studiobrien.com/ for more from the artist.

I think this reflects an emotional response that is still common to people when they first read about Jesus’ agony in Gethsemane.  Here we have Jesus tormented and upset.  We have him begging his Father to let him pass from the cross.  It makes us uneasy.  It seems strange to think of Jesus having fears and doubts.  It makes us wonder how close he was to turning.  What would have happened if Jesus decided, “Not your will, but mine,” and left.  What if there had been no cross for Jesus?  In this moment of Jesus in Gethsemane, we can imagine it for a moment.  We wonder, with bated breath, what he will do.  This is unsettling.

Yet at the same time, this story of Jesus in Gethsemane may be the most important passage in all of the gospels.  It is here that Jesus is most human.  It is here that Jesus is most vulnerable.  And it is here that Jesus is most courageous.  What makes this passage so powerful is the idea that it could have gone either way.  We have the luxury of reading the gospels knowing the end of the story.  We know his decision.  We know how the story ends, but if we allow ourselves to enter the drama of the moment, we can see Jesus making the decision to go forward.

Jesus spent his ministry teaching about love.  Through word and deed Jesus showed us how to love God and to love one another.  He fed the hungry.  He healed the sick.  He invited the women and the children and the tax collectors and the sinners to come to his table.  He broke bread with the least and the lost and shared the cup of redemption with them all.  He crossed boundaries of race, nationality, ethnicity, gender, and class.  He challenged religious authority, and he scoffed at the pomposity and self-absorbed granduer.  He called out the hypocrites.  He admonished the scribes and the pharisees for their hardened hearts.  He brought a simple message: Love God, and love one another.

And for all of that – for the criticism and the invitiation and the healing and the challenge he represented to the comfortable and powerful – he knew he was going to the cross.  He knew if he stood up for all that he lived for, for all that he believed, for all that he held dear, he would be killed.  He knew that if he followed God’s will it would lead to a cross.  Not because God needed him to die, but because men could not allow him to live.  We would not allow him to live.

So he sat there in Gethsemane and he prayed.  He prayed for another way out.  He prayed in anguish.  He prayed as a man who could feel pain, who would be hurt by betrayal, who would be scarred by the scourge, and would bleed when nails were driven into his arms and legs.  He prayed as a man who knew that if he would follow God’s will, he would be charged, convicted, mocked, humiliated, abandoned, and nailed to a cross.  Knowing all of this full well he prayed, “Not my will, but yours.”  Then he rose and stood up for all that he had lived for.

Stengthened by his prayer and with the power of the Holy Spirit he stood, and he went to the cross.  He did not go as a lamb to the slaughter, for a lamb knows not where it is going.  He went as a man who had decided to follow God.  He went as a man that would endure a punishment he did not deserve.  He went as a man that would heal and forgive and love even to the very end.

Gethsemane reminds us that Jesus chose his fate, but more importantly, it reminds us that we choose our own as well.  When we see Jesus in agony in the garden, we know that we will face our own Gethsemane, but we will never do so alone.  Every day we have the choice.

We can follow the way of the world – we can be selfish, we can look out for number one, we can work hard to get what we deserve, we can acquire more stuff, we can ignore the outcast, we can condemn the poor, we can tread on the orphan and the widow, we can judge the sinner, and we can build our nice comfy walls which no one will breach accept those we deem worthy.

Or we can follow Jesus.  We can pray to God, “Not my will, but yours,” and mean it.  We can fail from time to time, but we can know that we are always struggling, like Jesus in the Garden, to do God’s will.  And we can do it knowing that as we struggle, as we are mocked, as we are belittled, as we fail, as we triumph, as we suffer and as we celebrate, Jesus is with us.

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February 13, 2010 · 10:19 am

Facebook Friends

So, as a middle-aged man living in rural Illinois, my days are not exactly filled with thrilling adventures. One of the most exciting moments of my day comes when I get on facebook and read the replies to all the witty comments and statusses (stati?) I wrote.  Nothing compares, however, to seeing that I have a Friend Request. 

Seriously, getting a friend request is the best.  It means that someone, somewhere saw my name and picture and thought, “Yeah, I want to be friends with that guy.”  The best part is the anticipation of the moment after clicking on the link, but before it is revealed who my new friend is.  Could this be some long-lost friend, some dear part of my past that will bring back a flood of memories, somebody I will exchange dozens of emails talking about old times, and possibly even meet for a beer on a coming Friday night?  Is it a youth from a church I used to serve, seeking my advice or coming to tell me how I was a positive influence in their life?  Or is it some guy I went to grade school with, but have not talked to in 20 years, and was really doing just fine not talking to him. 

Right now, I have 319 facebook friends (after reading this, I might have fewer).  They can be roughly categorized like this:

“Who?”  These are the people that you have to check “mutual friends” to narrow things down a little.  This is the guy you had a class with your junior year, but never really talked to.  This is the girl that was your roommate’s girlfriend’s friend that came over one time.  This is the fraternity brother that was a freshman when you were a senior and you didn’t live in the house, or it might actually be someone’s little brother who you partied with once.  Basically, this is the worst friend request.  You feel obligated to accept, because ignoring friend requests is just rude, but you haven’t seen this guy in 15 years, and you’re not exactly sure you want him to see pictures of your family.  These don’t happen too much.  Of my 319 friends, I’d estimate that I didn’t have any idea who about a dozen of them were at first request.  I think a couple of them have actually removed me since then.  How funny would it be if you got an update everytime someone removed you as a friend.  How’d you like to have “Josh Smith has removed you as a friend” on your live feed. 

“I remember that guy”  These are the people that you once were friends with, but honestly had not thought about this person in years.  You were on a team together.  You had a few classes together.  You worked in the same office for a year or two.  You said “hi” to each other in the hall, but you knew nothing personal about the person.  The last time you talked, it was when they signed your yearbook, and it said “It was nice knowing you.  Have a fun summer.  Good luck in college.”  And it says “college” because they didn’t know where you were going to school. 

This is someone you add because if you bumped into them at Easy Street Pub or the Village Tavern, you would want to be able to look them in the eye.  And you have about 30 mutual friends and they might post pictures from HS of friends you had that will make you laugh.  You might right on their wall once after becoming friends.  You might make a comment or two on their status if you can think of something clever.  You do not exchange messages or comment on pictures.  You might be in their mafia.  Of my 319 friends, I would roughly estimate that 50 of them fall into this category.

“Casual Friends.”  This the person that, when you shared something in common, you were pretty good friends.  When you were in the same office, or in the same fraternity, or on the same team, you hung out some.  You went out after work a few times.  You ran in the same circle.  But when life changed, you drifted apart.  You graduated and went to college.  You graduated and got jobs in different cities.  You moved.  She moved.  You have her email, but it ends in .edu, and you doubt it still works.  Your first comment after accepting the request is, “It’s great to see you on facebook.  We should catch up.”  But you don’t.  Well, maybe you do a little, but you don’t really say anything more than is already on your profile.  “I live in —–, I’ve been married for ——, I work for ——-”  That’s about it.  I probably have another 100 of these friends.

“Family.”  You have to add these people.  If you are related in any way, you have to be their friend.  Even if you only see them at funerals and weddings.  Even if you see them less then that.  When a relative – and marriage counts – adds you, you must accept.  You will probably get a dozen invitations from them to join “My Family,” or “We’re related” or some stupid application like that.  I ignore all of those.  Upon becoming friends, your first post was “Hey Aunt —–, so you finally joined Facebook.  How’s cousin ——–?  Tell Uncle —— I said ‘hi.'”

“Historic Friends”  These are the friend requests we are all waiting for.  These are the guys that stood up at your wedding.  This is the guy that slept over at your house when you were kids.  This is the girl that you kind of liked, but never asked out.  These are the people we write on their wall, “It’s great to see you on facebook.  We should catch up.”  And then you actually do with a few exchanged messages, and maybe a chat or two.  If they’re not online, you look at the profile and find out if they are a Democrat, or if they turned into an a-hole (I think I just lost a few friends).  You check out their pictures, especially the album titled “Old School.”  You form a carefully crafted comment on their status, and hope to God that they respond with LOL or a funny emoticon. 

“Uncomfortable Friends”  These are the friends that you kind of lost on purpose.  This is your ex-girlfriend that crushed you, or the one that you crushed.  This is the your roommate that stole your CDs, or you stole his.  This is the guy you were with when you did that thing that you have been trying to forget for years.  You add them, but hope to God they never comment on anything.  They don’t.

“Current Aquaintances” – This is the guy you work with.  This is the one that you think about before you post a link or tell a joke.  This person is the reason you removed the tag of yourself on that picture from college of you and the bra and the boa and the cigarette and the wig and the girl that is definately not your wife (and the garbage can full of “Jungle Juice”).  These are people you don’t know that well, but you don’t want them to think you’re a perv or a drunk or a jerk.  You know that if post something insensitive or stupid, you are guaranteed to bump into this person at the store or in the hall, and you don’t want to deal with his condescending voice or her Judgy McHolierthanthou look. 

“Actual Friends” – These are people you are currently actually friends with.  You communicate with them in ways other than facebook.  You have actual conversations on the phone or face-to-face.  If facebook ceased to exist, your relationship would probably not change much.

These are the main sets – every one of your friends probably fits into one of these categories.  There is little overlap.  Below are some subsets.  People can belong to one, more, or none of these groups.  Feel free to add some in the comments section.

Subsets:

The Political Guy: Every status, link and group they invite you to is called either “Obama is an idiot” or “Healthcare reform now”

The Religious Guy: Bible verses for status, groups called “I bet I can find one million people that love Jesus.”

The Networking Guy: Invitations to join his company’s page.  Updates regularly about his company.

The Funny Guy: Every status is funny.  Subsets of this subset may include Pun Guy, Movie Quote Guy, Deep Thoughts Guy

The Mom: 375 posted pictures of the kids. Status updates are about kids.  Groups include “I bet I can find a billion Mommies that love their kids.”

The Drunk College Guy/Girl: 575 pictures of self at various parties, occasionally on boat, sometimes in swimsuit, always with cup.

Blogger Guy: Constantly pushing his website on people.  Has 100 networked blogs followers, and thinks he’s a syndicated columnist.

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January 24, 2010 · 7:49 am

Pastor Dawg

Over the last two days, after I finally decided to go to the “try-out” for the Twin City Dawgs, a semi-pro football team that plays in Chenoa (hoping they change it to Central Illinois Dawgs), I have been blown away by the outpouring of support and encouragement.  There were only three comments on this page, but I had over 30 comments on facebook and two phone calls.

Friends from high school, college, seminary, and a few churches, other pastors, and family have left comments.  There were so many words of encouragemnent,

“In addition to being in shape and being very smart and having football sense, you now have wisdom that only comes with age. You will be impressed yourself with what you can see and foreshadow in the game.  The icing on the cake is that you are a very inspiring person even without all the athletic gifts you will bring on Saturday. I predict you will be a blessing in many ways Saturday and that these will be among your glory days –and God’s (in your life and the team’s).”

Here was another that meant a lot to me:

“Others think of doing stuff like this. You are doing. I think the Springsteen song is also about those who have given up doing and are, as the song says, ‘sittin’ round talking about.’ “

As I was reading all of the comments this afternoon, I was brought to tears.  It was overwhelming to think of how many people were excited for me.  This is something I want to do for so many reasons.  I hadn’t thought of how many people would be excited for me too.  I have to admit though, as I shed some tears, some of themwere from pain. 

I am sore. 

Really sore.  Sarah asked me where I was sore, and I answered without hyperbole, “Only where I bend.”  After the try-out I was literally sore from head to toe.  I had a headache.  My lower back hurt. My abdomen hurt.  My hips hurt.  My knees hurt.  My ankles hurt.  And my big toe was throbbing.  Someone stepped on it, and now my toenail is a different color then it used to be.

Save for my toe, I have nothing that could be considered an “injury.”  There is nothing wrong with me that won’t get better with a hot tub and some ice packs.  And man, do I feel good.  The try-out went really well.  Here’s how it went:

First, we warmed up with running, stretching, and form running.  I noticed right away that there were basically three groups of guys.  There were about 10 big, classic linemen.  They were all taller, bigger, younger and (I hope) slower than me.  Then there were about 30 skilled guys.  They were all shorter, leaner, younger, and faster than me.  The third group were 3-4 scrubs.  I felt like I had no clear home in any of the groups, and was pretty sure that I was not group 3.

Then we broke into stations and did some athletic testing.  There was no strength test.  There was a 20-yard dash.  I was the slowest guy in my group, but I know I was not the slowest guy there.  Then there was a shuttle run, and I received a B grade (most of the guys got Cs, one guy in my group got an A).  The next drill was jumping over a tackling dummy.  I jumped over it 11 times in 10 seconds.  Other guys did it 9-13 times.  The last station was all footwork.  I was pretty good at that – not as good as the skill guys, but better than the other guy in the group that was my size.

At this point, I was pretty sore.  Then we took a break, so all of my loose muscles constricted like a brand new cotton t-shirt in the drier.  I texted my wife, brother and friend that had texted me earlier.  My brother responded with a text making fun of me for texting during practice.

After the break we divided into linemen and skill positions.  I did not know where to go.  In college during my first practice I told everyone that I was a tight end, and went with them the whole first day.  Then the next day the coach came to me and told me that I was a guard.  I don’t want to be a guard.  I want to be a tight end.  I also didn’t want the coach to pull me aside and say, “Hey fattie – you’re a guard!”

There were two QBs and about 20 guys that wanted to catch passes.  I was a little timid at first, but eventually got in line.  It was a simple one-on-one drill.  I lined up with a guy across from me.  I ran a ten-yard curl, turned and caught the ball. It was the only ball thrown to me.  I am glad I caught it.

Later, we went 11-on-11, which is pretty ridiculous without pads.  I was concentrating on just fitting in.  I took more initiative and stayed on the field.  I was one of three tight ends.  One of them is a stud.  He is probably the best athlete on the team and will probably play linebacker too.  So he won’t be able to take every snap as a TE.  The other TE was built very much like me.  He was in my group during agility drills.  He was faster on the sprint, but I did better in the agility drills.  He dropped a couple of balls.  I caught my one.  I’m not saying I’m better than him – without pads, its impossible to tell, but I held my own.

I left the try-out realizing that I could not only make the team.  Unless there are some other guys that I don’t know about, I could honestly compete for playing time.  The team plays a lot of double tight, which means I could be on the field quite a bit.  Its exciting to even think about.

I am nowhere near that point yet.  I haven’t even put on pads yet, and there is no way anyone can know about football until the pads go on.  For the next two months we will only practice on Saturday mornings in a gym, and I am missing the next two practices.  We go outside in March/April and then put on the pads.  Our first game isn’t until May.  The games are on Saturdays, and I cannot let this interfere with my responsibilities at church.  I think I’m sore now, just think how sore I’ll be in the middle of July when I don’t get home until 11 o’clock on Saturday night after playing a football game.  That Sunday morning will be interesting. 

Today I started something.  I don’t know how this story will end, but today I got out there and tried something new – something exciting – something that made me feel good.

Besides catching the pass, I had another highlight. I lined up directly across a guy that is one of the team captains.  A real athlete.  After the play, which was uneventful (though I was open), he gave  me five and said, “Dude, you are terrifying.”  I smiled.  I generally don’t aim to be terrifying, but today, it was the highest of praise.

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January 22, 2010 · 9:53 am

Glory Days

I have had a Bruce Springsteen song stuck in my head for a few days.  “Glory Days,” has always been one of my favorite Springsteen songs.  I like it because it so brilliantly combines an upbeat melody with melancholy, almost tragic lyrics.  Like “Born in the USA,” which is often misunderstood to be a hyper-patriotic anthem (see Wrangler commercials and Ronald Reagan), “Glory Days” is often misunderstood to be a happy song waxing nostalgic about good memories.

Instead, it is a biting look at people that are unable to escape their past.  It is about sad people unable to accept their current condition, but waste away pining about their “Glory Days.”

I guess I’ve been thinking about that song because I don’t want it to be about me.  I’ve been working out for the last few months, and I’ve gotten myself into pretty good shape.  I am now stronger than I’ve ever been in my life.  I can bench press 225 pounds 10 times. I can leg press 500 pounds 10 times.  I am still fat, but underneath I can feel and see muscle that had sort of gone away for awhile.  In addition to getting stronger, I have lowered my cholesterol into the safe zone for the first time in years.  My first motivator to get back to the gym was to be healthier, but there has been another motivator in the back of my mind. 

I want to play football again.

Real football.  Should pads and helmets football.  I want to play for the Twin City Dawgs, a semi-pro football team that plays a ten game schedule over the summer in Chenoa and other cities in Illinois.  Last year I was in the press box, doing the PA or doing the scoreboard.  Next year I want to be on the field.

Maybe its a midlife crisis a few years ahead of schedule.  If so, there are certainly worse things that I could do, yet I’m terrified that I’m going to be that guy in the song, “telling boring stories about my glory days.” 

Yet here’s the thing: I never had any glory days.  My glory days were taken from me by an assistant coach that didn’t believe in me.  I didn’t start my senior year in high school.  If it was because I wasn’t as good as the guy that did start, it wouldn’t bother me, but I’ve never believed that.  So I’m preparing 15 years later to embark on a journey that could endanger my very livelihood. Maybe I’m not the one talking about my glory days.  Maybe I’m searching for them.  I know that is not a good reason to endanger myself in a violent, dangerous game.

I also know that I want to be a part of the team.  I want to be a positive influence in the lives of the 50 young men on the team.  I am not going in to convert anybody, but I want to expand my mission field, and reach people that might never otherwise approach a church.  I want to inspire people at my church, especially the young people, to reach for goals that seem impossible.  And yes, I want to prove to myself that I can do it. Is that really such a bad thing?

The try-out is Saturday. I talked to the coach today. There won’t be any pads.  We’ll do some agility and speed testing.  We’ll do break into positions, and we’ll do some 7-on-7.  I am going to see where I fit.  I’m going to talk to the coach, my wife, and my health insurance company, and figure out what I can contribute.

I have no business being on a football team, and I know that.  I might, however, contribute something to the team anyway.  I might contribute something to a young man searching for God.  I might contribute something to the community of Chenoa.  I might contribute something to someone wondering if they can achieve something they have no business achieving.

I’m going to give it a shot.  Say a prayer for me.  I’ll need it.

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