Gigging

I am getting ready for to perform the wedding ceremony for a wonderful couple tomorrow night. After a pre-marital counseling session with this couple a few weeks ago, the groom invited me to go “gigging” later that week. I accepted the invitation, then asked what “gigging”actually was. He explained to me that flounder come in to the bay from deep water in the Gulf for a short period of time during the colder season. The flounder will hide themselves under the sand just a few feet off the bank of the bay. They lay there incognito about to devour small sea life, when other hunters rudely interrupt the flounder from their hunt. This is where we come in. In a little boat with two large lights placed on the water’s surface to illuminate the late night dark water we stand with twelve foot bamboo poles with a Triton-ish three pronged tip. We troll just feet off of the shore until we come upon on these sand covered flounders. When we are above them, as my friend says, we “stab the (stuff) out of the them.”
Within five minutes of being on the pitch-black water I saw our first flounder of the night. He laid there with little sand hiding him, and with little expectation for his little life to come to an abrupt ending. I stood waiting, hearing in my head William Wallace repeating, “Hold, Hold, Hold,” until I was perched directly over top of this flounder. With all my might I attempted to “stab the stuff out of him.” He was stabbed. I was hooked. This soon became my favorite type of fishing (or is it hunting?). We continued “gigging” successfully for a few hours. We later got a 4.5lb flounder that required each of us to gig him to lift him into the boat. And the fun continued later that week when he and his family invited Lindsay and I over for dinner to feast on our catch.
(Insert preacher analogy here) Is this the type of “fishing for men” that Jesus imagined? Waiting for people to be vulnerable and then violently assault them. I think the fishing analogy, like all analogies, does break down. Jesus doesn’t want us to trick people into biting onto something that will kill them. He wants us to give them something that gives life, not takes life. But this violent attack seems to have been our mode of evangelistic operation in the past instead of a compassionate invitation to join a journey of faith. As unsuspecting people enjoy their lives they are asked, “If you died tonight, do you know where you would end up?” Hoping to “stab the stuff out of them” we tell them that they are sinners and the fires of Hell await them. Instead of using our lights to find the unsuspecting victims, we could use our lights to give direction, meaning and guidance as we all try to navigate a world that can be so dark.

The Life of an Underage Preacher.

I just returned from the hospital where I visited a church member who just had her second child. Her husband was temporarily out of the room, so when the doctor walked in he saw a young girl and a young guy, he naturally assumed the young guy was the father. After a few awkward comments, which caused me to stare at the ground while my forehead perspired profusely, the doctor told me what a great job I did. I didn't want to sound like one of those guys on Maury Povich who celebrate that the baby is not theirs, but I had to say something. I finally interrupted him and informed him that I am the preacher not the father.

This isn't as bad as an invitation response that happened the first month I was at my church. A teenage girl responded after my sermon by coming to sit on the front pew to speak with someone. I soon sat next to her and attempted to minister to her. She completely ignored me. I sat there stunned by this rejection and soon motioned for one of my elders to speak with her since she was obviously having nothing to do with me. She talked to him, and he ministered to her wonderfully. When the service ended and most people had existed the auditorium, this girl and her mother waved me over to speak with them. With a good bit of hesitancy I walked over to them. The mother apologized to me while her shy daughter stood silently by her side. The mother then explained that her daughter thought I was just a “cute boy hitting on her” which caused her to ignore me. Moments like this remind me just how much some people listen to preaching.

Daily Salvation

Jacob, still limping from his wrestling match with God, finally faces the victim of his incessant deceit, his brother Esau. Instead of killing his dishonest brother, Esau decides to give salvation to this undeserving recipient. Jacob in response to this magnanimous act says that in the face of Esau he has seen the face of God. In reconciling with his undeserving brother, Esau isn’t just the hands and feet of God. He is the face of God.

Here’s a Barbara Brown Taylor quote from "Leaving Church"-
"Then I spoke with Rob, whose job would be placed in jeopardy by my leaving. My conversation with him was the hardest one, as well as the one in which I was prepared to accept the most blame. When this young priest received my news with grace instead of anger, he reminded me that salvation is not something that happens only at the end of a person’s life. Salvation happens every time someone with a key uses it to open a door he could lock instead."

Seeming Trust

The panicked scream of my wife interrupted my evening quiet time with ESPN. I sprinted into the kitchen to find Lindsay backed into the far side of the kitchen fearing the wrath of her dreaded opponent on the floor. A two-inch bright green reptile stood in equal shock from the screaming sixty-five inch blond on the other side of the room. My wife’s fear had frozen both of the parties. I assured Lindsay that I would fix this problem, and told Lindsay to leave the room with the dogs so they wouldn’t consume more than their allotted caloric intake. She eventually agreed, but not before handing me her choice of weapon, a dirty frying pan. Once alone in the kitchen I stalked my victim. I then attacked my prey with a shoe, but to no avail. I then approached my wife with a lie, claiming victory over her nemesis. She asked again to make sure I was being truthful, and I repeated the lie knowing it was what she wanted to hear.
The next day another one was on the porch, and elicited the same response from both my wife and then myself. But this time I succeeded. She then nonchalantly asked me if I lied the day before, and I admitted. Later that night she thanked me for lying about killing the reptile, because she knew she wouldn’t have been able to sleep if she had thought her two inch Geico salesman roamed her home.

Shakespeare’s 138 sonnet.
“…O, Love’s best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told.
Therefore I lie with her and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flattered be.”

The man in this poem has a woman who professes that he is young, even though he’s old. He knows that she knows he isn’t as young as he professes to be, but that is the “seeming trust.” He lies about his age. She lies about believing him. They both know their deception, which really isn’t deception if both know, right? As Shakespear says love’s best habit is this seeming trust. Lindsay knows that I don’t kill every reptile and I know that she really doesn’t think that I could still make the U.S. Olympic wrestling team or I am the best preacher in the world, but we both sure say it. I doubt that is really lying, because a lie is an attempt to deceive. “Seeming Trust” communicates love not deceit.

Intellectually Lazy

The other day I was in a conversation with two of my lawyer workout partners regarding torture. The more vocal friend, whom I like a great deal, believed that torture is useful and worthwhile. Lawyer number two (both actually have the same first name so lets go with numbers), made the argument which seems to be common with many military leaders. We don’t torture because we don’t want our troops tortured. My response- stolen from McCain- we don’t torture because not torturing is not about our enemies. It’s about us. Torture doesn’t fit with who we want to be as Americans. Lawyer 1 refutes those statements and again advocates tortures more passionately. I really had little else to say at that point. ("Love your enemies" didn't come to mind for some reason) I had used my main argument and had nothing else in my mind at the time, except the God card. I was briefly tempted to tell my non-churched friend, “It’s morally wrong. God doesn’t like it.” And I realized I was just tempted to be intellectually lazy by pulling that trump card. I didn’t want to put the effort in to explain why it was morally wrong and why God wouldn’t like it. I didn't say it, but I know if I did it would have almost definately ended the conversation.
It’s easy just to drop a trump card like “God doesn’t like it" or "The Bible says its wrong.” But I think that’s often just an example of being intellectually lazy. We want to hide behind the mystique of a sacred document instead of engaging the message of this inspired book.

Strutting

When I was kid growing up in Philadelphia, one of the big things was strutting. The cool kids would strut. Some people thought it was cool, others thought it made you look cocky. In hindsight I realized that you don’t actually look cool when you strut, you actually look like an inebriated pirate or someone with a leg injury. Regardless of how cool it might have been, its really ambiguous about what really caused people to strut. What many thought to be a sign of a pompous individual could have just as easily been a sign of an injured individual.
In preparation for Sunday’s sermon, I am wrestling this week with the story of Jacob grappling with God. Jacob will obviously lose that match because God is well, God. God ends this match by contorting his hip so much that even Randy Couture would tap out. From that day on Jacob never again walks right because he has wrestled with God. Jacob’s identity is changed from being the deceiver (which is what Jacob means- literally heal grabber) to the one who wrestled with God (Israel).
Some people today will never walk right again because they have wrestled with God. They have grappled with the trying touch of a God who calls them to more than they want to give. They have felt the suffocation of the call to choke out selfishness. The call to forgive and love the unlovable is more painful than an arm bar. The challenge of having faith in a God who doesn’t seem to stop the injustice of suffering, the pain of divorce or the heart break of loneliness is worse than the tightest triangle choke. Some of these people look like they are strutting; when in reality they cannot walk the same anymore. They seem to scoff at the simplistic faith and trite platitudes that float the faith of others. But are they really strutting in arrogance, or are they limping because God has touched them. And it hurt. And it still hurts. And it will continue to hurt just like Jacob’s crippled leg.
They, which is often me, wish they wouldn’t have the limp. Sometimes I wish God just wanted me to be happy. I wish God just didn’t want me to do the sins that I have the discipline to avoid. I wish following God wasn’t so difficult. I wish it was black and white. I long to go back to thinking Christianity meant just reading my Bible every day and trying not to sin. Instead I limp because the complexities of God are too great to be watered down. The call is too big. The world is too gray. And love is too hard. All because God continues to wrestle with his people and change their identity.

Exiles.

Here are two quotes from Michael Frost's "Exiles."

It seems that the church is still hoping and praying that the ground will shift back and our society will embrace once again the values that it once shared with the Christian community. But for many of us, and for those to whom this book is written, this hoping and praying is a lost cause. We acknolwedge that the epoch of history that shaped the contemporary church has crashed like a wave on a shore and left the church high and dry. The epoch is known as Christendom. Christendom has molded our church into their current form and abandoned them to a world this is completely over it all.
________________________________________________

The Christian communion table, then, is not a holy, untouchable artifice, but rather a feasting place, a place to enjoy the presence of the one who eats and drinks with us. Today, however, we have turned it into something like the stone water jars used for ceremonial purification rites that Jesus found in Cana. The communion table now represents the separation between the holy and the unholy rather than a place where everyone can share in the bounty offered by the falsely accused drunkard and glutton.

I hope he can live on 275

While announcing the signing of A-Rod Thursday evening, ESPN interviewed a NY ESPN radio sports guy. Without a hint of sarcasm he said, "A-Rod didn't get the 350 million that he was looking for. Let's hope he can live on 275 million." As a Yankees fan I would be willing to organize the bake sale to help offset any quality of living sacrifices Alex and Cynthia will have to make. Anyone willing to help?

____________________________________________

Here are some words of wisdom from Michael Scott regarding his decision to stick up for his company instead of his girlfriend after both mistreated him,
"You expect your company to screw you, but not your girlfriend."

Bitterness

Please check out my good friend, Boss Ross' blog to see a good example of someone who is bitter.

Transitional Generation

When we choose to marry, we choose to carry someone else’s baggage. Some have baggage that can fit in the overhead compartment, some have to check their bags and others have to pay extra because their bags are just too big. To marry doesn’t mean that we choose to make our kids take those same bags with them into their marriages. In his book (which I am using for a marriage class I am teaching) "Creating an Intimate Marriage," Jim Burns uses the phrase “transitional generation” about this phenomenon. We should be trying to put our kids in a better place than we were born into. He asks a question worth ruminating on. What is my generation transitioning out of to put our kids in a better place?

Give'em Heaven

A few weeks ago on a Wednesday morning at the gym, Chuck walked over to me as he was leaving. Chuck, a very kind friend and a California native who has two grown sons and a strong distrust for organized religion. He hasn’t entered a church building since a few decades ago when he heard a sermon on not lusting after women in the church choir. He surprised me when he asked if I was preaching that night, and I told him that I would be teaching a men’s class on David.
“What are you talking about?”
Slightly taken back, I mumbled into a brief history about David.
“Isn’t he the one with the coat?” he said.
“No, that’s Joseph. David is the one who fought Goliath. But tonight we are getting to the part after he gets his bodyguard’s wife pregnant”
He interrupts and says, “So he’s like Clinton?”
“Well, I guess so. Except he killed the husband of the girl after getting her pregnant.”
“Really? Is that in there?”
“Yeah, the Bible’s got some pretty shady stories.”
Chuck nods with interest.
As he starts to walk off he says, “Alright Luke, Give ’em hell tonight.”
The irony caused me to immediately become reticent, but I offered up a parting wave.
And then said to myself, “Did that just happen?”

Hopefully in conversations like that we give ’em a little bit of heaven.

Raising up.

Two of the most devout family first, religious coaches in the NFL, Andy Reid and Tony Dungy, both have faced awful family trials (drug charges for Reid’s two oldest sons and the suicide of Dungy’s son). Regarding these unfortunate events my favorite psychologist, my father, wisely said to me the other day, “The Bible says, ‘Raise up a child in the way that they will go.’ But the only problem is that you are not the only one raising your child.”

Football.

While in Austin to speak to at a Fellowship Christian Athletes event, Lindsay and I got to watch her Dad’s high school football team’s last game. They, Austin Anderson, had trailed the entire game since fumbling on the game's first series. With less than two minutes remaining in the forth quarter, they rallied back from a 15-point deficit to tie up the score at thirty-two. Their opponents drove the ball down the field to around the Anderson thirty, where they lined up to attempt a game winning 45+yrd field goal with three seconds left. Their kicker had already successfully kicked a field goal from 42yds, and many expect the same outcome, but this kick was blocked. The ball rolled down to the Anderson five where an Anderson lineman recovered the ball much to the dismay of many fans, including myself. He took just a step and was hit. But before he was pulled down, he pitched the ball to an Anderson running back who took the ball ninety-five yards for the winning score.
As the crestfallen opponents laid across the field in disbelief, the ecstatic Anderson fans began to flood the field. One of Zane’s coaches saw a dejected opponent sprawled out on the field in the path of the oncoming, stampeding fans. Coach Muck ran over between the downed opponent before the charging students got to him. He spread his arms and funneled the fans away from the player. Instead of cheering with the rest of his team and coaching staff, he served. That was one of the craziest endings to football game I have ever witnessed, and a fitting picture of our call to be salt and light in this world; our arms spread out, serving people who are struggling with life.