Football, Faith, and Favor

There’s a bumper sticker we see around here that says, “If God’s not a Bronco fan, then why’s the sky orange?” I don’t think God’s a Bronco fan. I don’t know if He cares about football at all. But I believe He extends His favor on certain people at certain times to teach the rest of us.

From what I’m seeing on Sunday afternoons, His favor is on Tim Tebow. Yes, add me to the list of bloggers who feels the need to share an opinion about this guy. If you don’t care about football or haven’t been following the Broncos' season (shame on you), the past 13 weeks have been like a Hollywood movie: third-string quarterback—Tebow—is unexpectedly bumped up to starter after a 1-4 start to the season, goes 6-1 with all of those wins coming in the last heart-stopping quarter of the game or in overtime. It’s made for great TV, a lot of analyst critiquing, and some fun Sunday afternoons on the Joneses’ couch.

Besides being a fierce athlete, Tebow happens to be one of the most outspoken Christians in all of professional sports. What I love about him is that it’s not his mouth that’s doing the talking; it’s his life. The orphans, the critically ill children, the poor that he serves probably don’t care much about whether he throws the ball funny or not. They’re probably not real interested in what the critics are saying or wondering to themselves if Tim’s faith is authentic or just for show. They don’t have to wonder.

He’s also an unashamed virgin at age 24, believing that sex should be saved for marriage—even when you're an NFL quarterback. He’s humble, giving credit in every interview to everyone but himself. He’s secure; no matter how hard the critics blast him, he stays positive and keeps smiling. And the thing I like most? By all accounts, he’s the hardest worker on the team. His teammates, time and time again, call him “the real deal.”

Tim Tebow does more than provide entertainment on a dreary winter day. He inspires. He inspires me. He makes me think about what kind of Christian I want to be. What if I lived out my values every day instead of just talking about them? What if I smiled and treated people kindly, even if they hurled insults at me and questioned my authenticity? What if I was the hardest worker around? What if I was known for my excellence, my hard work, my commitment to being the best I can be? What if all of us who follow Christ were to do these things? We don’t all have a national platform like an NFL quarterback, but we all have others watching us, wondering if we’re “the real deal.”

Tim’s only 24 years old, but I want to be like him when I grow up. Even if he loses the next four games, is injured, or is traded and never makes another appearance on a football field, he’s affected me and thousands of others. Broadcasters and sports writers keep referring to him as “magical.” That’s not magic, folks, that’s the favor of the Lord. You just wonder how long it will take before they start wondering if there’s not something to all this God stuff.

Less Mouth, More Limbs

I start this entry mindful of a pastor’s wise instruction to begin every prayer by asking forgiveness for our own self-righteousness. I’m sure there’s self-righteousness in what I’m about to write. Forgive me, Lord.

A few nights ago, two messages landed in my inbox at the same time. One was from a Christian organization decrying the use of the term “holiday sales” in Walgreen’s Thanksgiving ads and their triumph when Walgreen’s announced they would switch to “Christmas” in the coming weeks. The other message was from a Christian ministry describing the jobs, accessible transportation, affordable housing, and the hope they are providing for the poor in inner-city Phoenix.

One group of Christians is offering a list of “Naughty or Nice Retailers” and where they stand on the “War on Christmas.” For a suggested donation of $150, you can buy a pack of “It’s OK to Say Merry Christmas” buttons. I wonder what the group of Christians in Phoenix could do with that $150? How many families could that feed? How much gas could it buy to get people to work? Beyond that, I wonder which would speak more to a watching world that is skeptical—even sick and tired—of Christians?

Rick Warren writes in the book unChristian:

“My passion is to help the next generation of church leaders guide their congregations in taking on the world’s biggest problems: spiritual emptiness, egocentric leadership, extreme poverty, pandemic disease, and rampant illiteracy. [Notably absent: winning the “War on Christmas.”] All governments, businesses, and non-profit organizations combined have failed in solving these. The only group large enough to handle these problems is the network of millions of local churches around the world. We have the widest distribution, the largest group of volunteers, local credibility, the promises of God, the power of the Holy spirit, and the inevitability of history.

My dream is that thirty years from now, the church will be known more by what it is for than what it is against. For some time now, the hands and feet of the body of Christ have been amputated, and we’ve been pretty much reduced to a big mouth. We talk far more than we do. It’s time to reattach the limbs and let the church be the church in the twenty-first century.”

Preach it, Pastor Warren! We’re listening.

My New Favorite Holiday

I have always been a Christmas girl—love the lights, the music, the ornaments, the parties, the presents—but I’m considering switching my allegiance. I’ve decided to make Thanksgiving my new favorite holiday.

There are things I’ve always enjoyed about Thanksgiving. Days off school are good for any reason. A holiday that always falls on Thursday is quaint. I like turkey. Being together with extended family is always a blessing. (I especially enjoyed that when I had little babies, having so many people around increased my odds of sneaking in a mid-day nap.) And I’m a huge fan of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. I don’t think I’ve missed it since I was 4 or 5. I used to dream of performing in the parade with the Rockettes—not knowing, of course, that I would grow up to be a short-legged, rather inflexible five-foot-three.

But the real reason for my switch is that I think Thanksgiving just might be God’s favorite holiday. Is there anything that delights Him more than our thanks? Sure, He changed the course of history by intervening in our world, which we celebrate at Christmas. And yes, we remember at Easter how He revealed all His power and glory by raising Jesus from the dead. Those were mighty displays of love by God toward us. But a day dedicated to giving thanks helps us display our love toward Him.

Like all our traditions, Thanksgiving has gotten mucked up with our cultural entrapments, football games and Black Friday shopping, and even parades. But everyone is at least aware that it’s a holiday that exists for the purpose of giving thanks. Our economy may be dismal and our politics may be a mess, but we Americans know we still have more to be thankful for than anyone else in the world.

“And do you see how thankful we must be? Not only thankful, but brimming with worship, deeply reverent before God.”

—Hebrews 12:28b, The Message

Service

“Our future reputation as Christians is intricately connected to our passion for justice, service, and sacrifice.” —David Kinnaman, unchristian

I believe this. Representing the Christian faith by not swearing, dancing, drinking, smoking, or sleeping around may have worked in previous generations—maybe—but a younger generation will only be drawn to Jesus by what we do, not by what we don’t do. Did I grow up with a passion for justice, service, and sacrifice? No way. But I’m trying to get there. If these are the things that keep the faith relevant to the generation behind me, I want to get there. More important, if these are offerings that please my Father, I want to get there.

But service is tricky. Of course there are hundreds of opportunities every day to serve the people around us, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m looking for consistent, ongoing ways to serve alongside my family. A few years ago, Kevin and I tutored some disadvantaged kids, but we had to pawn off our own kids in order to do it. That doesn’t seem right. Our church has opportunities, but they’re often not little-kid friendly, either. We have loads of Christmas opportunities, which we dive into, but what about the rest of the year? We’ve taken our kids to sort clothes at the homeless shelter, but there were more volunteers than clothes, and we ended up just sitting around. We volunteered to work with families at the Salvation Army, but no one showed up. We were team leaders for an elaborate Thanksgiving dinner our church planned for the homeless, and only a handful of families came, ate quickly, and left. We’ve also been involved with the poor individually, but again, this turns into me investing hours into someone while my kids sit at home without me.

I want to model for our children the kind of service, sacrifice, and justice that requires all of us working together. I want them to know the joy of serving with others in community. I want them to see that it takes priority; it happens whether we have piano lessons or a basketball game or not. I want them to see it as a lifestyle—not as something you only do at Christmas or when you board a plane to go overseas.

So I’m praying. God, please show us the way.

Passing It On

My purpose for this blog is to share the things God is teaching me—and I feel like I’m on the brink of something big. Have you ever had that experience where every book you read, every person you talk to, every message you hear seems to be pointing in the same direction? That’s where I am right now, and the topic is passing on real faith, faith that lasts, to our children.

Of course this is something we’ve been thinking about for a long time. We try to follow the instructions in Deuteronomy 6, talking to our children about the ways of God as we walk alongside them every day. But I’m starting to think hard about how we’re doing this. Are we passing on a passionate, life-transforming faith, or just a lot of information about God and the way He wants us to live? Have my children seen firsthand what it means to live out the Gospel? And if they have, do they know they have?

The book unChristian by David Kinnaman, president of The Barna Group, and Gabe Lyons came out in 2007. I’m just getting around to reading it, though it’s been sitting on my shelf for nearly five years. When the book came out, I was pregnant and my oldest was just 7. I couldn’t have received the message in the same way then as I do now. Now it’s very relevant to our lives as we walk through the doorway of adolescence with our son, with our daughters following close behind. This quote from unChristian, which I read just last night, is ringing in my ears as I contemplate the kind of faith I’m passing onto them (I’ve added the italics):

“Eight out of ten students participate in church during their teenage years, but most of them will take a permanent detour from active faith at some point soon after they get their driver’s licenses. . . . The vast majority will cross over to the other side; pronouncing Christianity boring, irrelevant, and out of touch. We’ve tried too long to educate their minds instead of engaging their lives.

“Some of us are convinced the system [of church] is fundamentally flawed because we don’t know what our goal is. We creatively market our programs, design innovative and relevant productions, and organize events that will capture the student imagination so that we can get them into church. What if our goal should not be to get them into church? What if the same energy could be applied to mobilize them to be the church? We have discovered a short window of time during the teenage years when students need to experience something beyond church as a spectator sport. If a young person is not challenged by hands-on personal ministry, their faith will likely be sidetracked and even sabotaged. . . . Faith grows when our faith is challenged to do something.” —Reggie Joiner, Rethink

Pastor and speaker Louie Giglio chimes in with this thought: “I think that is what this generation wants—an action-based worship. There is nothing wrong with jumping to a David Crowder tune and telling God he is great—that is worship. But worship is also doing the right thing and sharing with others in need.”

OK. I’m convinced. And I’m re-evaluating. With fairly consistent church attendance and seven years of AWANA under their belts, I have children who know large quantities of scripture by chapter and verse, who understand the grand “metanarrative” story of the Bible and can answer detailed questions about it, and who absolutely know right from wrong, even if they don’t always practice it. But do I have children who can recognize faith in action, who realize it comes at a cost and are willing to sacrifice for it? Who understand that it is only Jesus who can allow you to love your neighbor as yourself? Who comprehend that worship is more than singing a song and church is more than a building? What am I gonna do about that?

More than a Bystander

Last month I wrote about the eye-opening question I saw in a book and have been asking ever since: “What needs to be done here?” It trickles into my mind all the time. Now if only I can get it to trickle into my behavior.

In my small group a few months ago, we talked about a local incident in which a woman jumped out of a moving car to flee her abusive boyfriend. After landing in the street, she flagged down the car behind her, which happened to be a mom with two young kids in the back. The mom opened her car to the woman, only to be shot at minutes later by the boyfriend. Miraculously, no one was hurt, but of course it leads to the question, did the mom do the right thing? What would I have done?

Would anyone have asked this question 40 years ago, I wonder? Was it a no brainer to scoop a bleeding woman up off the street?

Then I think of a recent experience we had ourselves. My husband Kevin was pumping gas into our van when a “blind man” started walking across the street toward the filling station. He was all over the place, staggering, walking dangerously close to moving cars, until a woman got out of her car to help him. She got him to the curb, and my husband took over from there, walking him into the store and giving him some money to spend. Like a relay race, a man in the store took his arm and helped him around, eventually offering to give him a ride to where he needed to go. (And yes, this guy had a young kid in the back of the car.) Now I put “blind man” in quotes because we had our suspicions. Serious suspicions. Was he really blind, or was this his act, his way to gain enough attention and pity to get dinner and catch a ride?

We’ll never know—but here’s how I know Kevin did the right thing. As we were pulling away, a woman inside the store ran out to acknowledge what he had done. His actions had spoken to her, and her affirmation of his actions spoke to me and to our kids in the car. It almost wasn’t about the blind man. And whether he was really blind or not didn’t matter. What mattered was that a whole lot of people—including drivers who saw one in their midst jump out of her car to help—saw people just like them “doing what needs to be done here.”

Do we pick up a bleeding woman from the street? Yes! Even if it means potential risk to our own children? I still say yes. We do it because it’s the right thing to do, because it’s what needs to be done in order for us to live in the kind of world we all want to live in. A world in which we are servants, not bystanders. Put me in that situation and what will I do? I wish I could say for sure. What I can do is pray for the courage to do what needs to be done, in all situations, no matter the cost, because I know that’s what Jesus calls "love."

Sunset

We just returned from a week at the ocean, our “reward” trip for living, somewhat successfully, with one bathroom and no natural lighting. Our apartment in San Diego had two bathrooms and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the beach, enabling us to watch the surfers by day and the moonlit waves by night. But it was the time in between that was most interesting to me. The sunsets were amazing.

The sun sets every day, even in Colorado. I realize this, but I never notice it. Day just somehow turns into night while I’m shuttling kids, making dinner, or checking someone’s math homework. I can’t think of the last sunset I witnessed at home. But at the beach, sunset is an event not to be missed. It’s like the world stops for a few minutes—surfers stop surfing, runners stop running, people stop talking, children stop fighting—while the sun drops off into the ocean. (I don’t care about all the science that tells us that’s not at all what’s happening; anyone who’s watching it would describe it as the sun falling into the ocean.) It’s captivating. Mesmerizing. You can’t not watch, even as your eyes are stinging and your good common sense is reminding you that it’s never a good idea to look directly at the sun. Everyone watches. Everyone marvels.

To me, the response to the sunset was as interesting as the sunset itself. How often does everyone stop what they’re doing and pay attention to the same thing? Only tragedies and catastrophes come to mind. But how often are we universally held captive to something so glorious?

It’s another glimpse of heaven on earth.

One day we’ll stand in the presence of God—terrified to look, unable to look away. There will be no thoughts of e-mails to send, calls to return, dinner to make. Undistracted, in unison, we will stand captivated by the glory of God. I can’t wait until that day when His name, His glory, are not taken so casually but are something at which we all marvel in stunned silence. Nothing can prepare us for what that will be like, but sunset at the beach comes as close as anything else.