Although most commonly associated with Catholicism, the dietary restraint practiced during Lent certainly crosses all denominational lines. The practice of sacrificing something of importance from one’s diet – be it meat or something more indulgent – is meant to center one’s mind on the sacrifice of Christ. Ordinarily, this also accompanies a deliberate, disciplined study of Scripture and/or adherence to prayerful meditation on Jesus.
My husband always “gives up” his three largest culinary indulgences – soda, chips, and dessert. Unlike traditional Lenten guidelines, he abstains from these for all forty days. Although I suspect he is motivated as much by the healthy benefits of the practice as the spiritual ones, it’s nonetheless an impressive feat of will-power and discipline, made more impressive by the fact that he never utters a single word of complaint. Yet in essence, what he’s doing with his physical diet is what we should all consider doing with our spiritual diets – purging what is unnecessary, unhealthy, and even harmful to make way for the nutritive love of our Lord.
Fasting and other forms of sacrifice in honor of God are noble practices that, when executed safely and from a genuine heart, produce a greater understanding of and closeness with God. My mother in-law stumbled on perhaps even a nobler observance of Lent years ago, when she suggested that we focus more on giving to others than on taking from ourselves. Her idea was rendered jokingly, from a humble acknowledgement that despite her love for God, she simply lacked the will-power to sacrifice her favorite foods. But her idea warrants some serious consideration, doesn’t it? After all, serving others from a faithful heart is what faith in Christ is all about.
Whether or not we engage in any specific, formal spiritual practice during Lent, we are called to prepare our hearts for the ultimate sacrifice of our Lord, and for His ultimate victory on our behalf. Dedicating ourselves to prayer, studying the Word, serving others, or sacrificing something of luxury or importance – all of these are good ways to center ourselves on God alone. Despite centuries-old traditions of the church around the globe, the end result of the process matters more to God than the means by which we arrive there.
On Easter Sunday – only after giving thanks and eating the meal his family has lovingly prepared, my husband finally enjoys a piece of carrot cake and perhaps a Mountain Dew. But the sweetness of such treats pales in comparison to the satisfaction of the life found in our risen Lord. Even if we never indulged in a savory dessert the rest of our lives, we can be filled with Jesus. The sweetness of His sacrifice is immeasurable.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Will You Be Mine?
This is love! It is not that we loved God but that He loved us. For God sent His Son to pay for our sins with His own blood. (1 John 4:10)
Like most ladies out there, I like some flowers or perhaps a little chocolate from my man to celebrate special occasions, like Valentine's Day. It's the day-to-day devotion and commitment that mean the most, but every once in a while, a thoughtful gift from someone you love just plain feels good. My favorite gift to give is a card containing a personalized, hand-written message letting the receiver know how much they mean to me and what is so special about them.
Candy hearts and perfumed roses are lovely, but there is a far greater gift that all of us are able to receive, whether or not we have a significant other in our lives. This gift was given a long time ago, but its impact is every bit as meaningful today. It doesn't smell pretty, nor does it come in a sparkling package. Unlike flowers, which wilt and must be given anew when the circumstances dictate, this gift was given only once but shall last for all eternity. There is nothing we've done to deserve this gift, nor any obligation on the part of the giver to give it. He simply gave this gift to us all for one simple reason: He loves us. It is the unsurpassed gift of God's Son.
From the weathiest among us to the poorest, from the long-married to the lonesome, from the joyous to the troubled at heart...the gift of Jesus is for each of us. The depth of God's love, that He would sacrifice His one and only Son to redeem us, is unfathomable for our feeble and wandering minds to fully comprehend. We are joined to God forever, saved, redeemed and made righteous through His life-giving grace. This gift was costly to God, but given freely from the depths of a love humankind has never known otherwise.
Valentine's Day has a cultural history worth repeating and celebrating, if only to boost the economy through greeting card sales. But on this "day of love," whether you have experienced love from another in this world or not, the ultimate Gift awaits all mankind. It's wrapped in blood-stained burial cloths behind a stone. Cupid's sharpest arrow cannot penetrate the depths of our hearts as can the love of our Lord nailed to a cross on Calvary. The roses will wilt, the chocolate will dry out, the greeting card will wither to dust. God's gift is forever.
The precious ink of Jesus' blood spells a timeless message for us all: My child, will you be mine?
Like most ladies out there, I like some flowers or perhaps a little chocolate from my man to celebrate special occasions, like Valentine's Day. It's the day-to-day devotion and commitment that mean the most, but every once in a while, a thoughtful gift from someone you love just plain feels good. My favorite gift to give is a card containing a personalized, hand-written message letting the receiver know how much they mean to me and what is so special about them.
Candy hearts and perfumed roses are lovely, but there is a far greater gift that all of us are able to receive, whether or not we have a significant other in our lives. This gift was given a long time ago, but its impact is every bit as meaningful today. It doesn't smell pretty, nor does it come in a sparkling package. Unlike flowers, which wilt and must be given anew when the circumstances dictate, this gift was given only once but shall last for all eternity. There is nothing we've done to deserve this gift, nor any obligation on the part of the giver to give it. He simply gave this gift to us all for one simple reason: He loves us. It is the unsurpassed gift of God's Son.
From the weathiest among us to the poorest, from the long-married to the lonesome, from the joyous to the troubled at heart...the gift of Jesus is for each of us. The depth of God's love, that He would sacrifice His one and only Son to redeem us, is unfathomable for our feeble and wandering minds to fully comprehend. We are joined to God forever, saved, redeemed and made righteous through His life-giving grace. This gift was costly to God, but given freely from the depths of a love humankind has never known otherwise.
Valentine's Day has a cultural history worth repeating and celebrating, if only to boost the economy through greeting card sales. But on this "day of love," whether you have experienced love from another in this world or not, the ultimate Gift awaits all mankind. It's wrapped in blood-stained burial cloths behind a stone. Cupid's sharpest arrow cannot penetrate the depths of our hearts as can the love of our Lord nailed to a cross on Calvary. The roses will wilt, the chocolate will dry out, the greeting card will wither to dust. God's gift is forever.
The precious ink of Jesus' blood spells a timeless message for us all: My child, will you be mine?
Monday, January 30, 2012
Making Joyful Noises
I love that the Bible tells us to "make a joyful noise unto the Lord," rather than "make beautiful, melodious noises unto the Lord." You see, I dearly love to sing, but my talent falls far short of my desire. As many of the ladies in the choir will likely confirm, I can sing a small set of notes within the alto range, but only if I have other, stronger voices and/or a CD to guide me. If I were forced to sing a solo, I would sound as off-key as the poor folks in "American Idol" auditions who erroneously believe they have talent.
A couple of years ago, I read the book "90 Minutes in Heaven," by Don Piper, a true account of a minister who died in a car accident and spent an hour and a half in Glory before returning to life on earth in his revived body. I am deeply moved by Mr. Piper’s frustration in finding words adequate enough to describe what heaven is like. One of his descriptions that is especially difficult to comprehend – but no less thrilling – is of the sound in heaven. He describes it as too many voices to count and too many instruments to identify, all endlessly singing and playing different glorious tunes that somehow meld together to create the most perfect noise imaginable. Such untamed noise would be agonizing to us here on earth, but in heaven it is as perfect as the One to whom it is directed. How wondrous a thought!
Of course, it is not just music that creates a joyful noise. As Amy Grant reminds us in her song "Better than a Hallelujah," God longs to hear our voices lifted to Him in a variety of ways – including from the depths of our sorrow. If the noise we create is directed towards communing with our God, He is not concerned with how pretty it sounds. Just as looking put-together and stylish for worship is meaningless to God, so too is the package in which our praise is presented. Any noise lifted to Him from a humble and grateful heart is in perfect pitch.
For many years, I drove forty minutes each way to and from my job. My route took me through mostly rural areas where I felt free to belt out whatever song came across my radio. Songs by Casting Crowns were my favorites, drawing the attention of many a passing cow over the years. Now, I travel a much shorter and busier route to work. I’m still adjusting to the sideways glances and looks of amusement I elicit from other drivers, ever self-conscious of how I must look and sound. Added to that is my daughter’s brutally honest assessment of my singing when we’re at home: when I sing, she covers her ears. It’s enough to humble anyone into silence!
Regardless of what fellow travelers, cows, or even my daughter may think, I have no intention of being quiet. After all, I’m not auditioning in front of millions of TV viewers on "American Idol." If God is the One to whom I sing, then the quality of my voice does not matter. He will not tell me to hire a vocal coach and try again next year. When we all make a joyful noise unto the Lord, we become part of the gloriously perfect melody of His creation, faithfully rehearsing for the choir of the heavenly host. It is silence from God’s people, not noise, that is deafening.
So, sing away, fellow travelers on God’s road! Let me know if you need an alto for your song…
A couple of years ago, I read the book "90 Minutes in Heaven," by Don Piper, a true account of a minister who died in a car accident and spent an hour and a half in Glory before returning to life on earth in his revived body. I am deeply moved by Mr. Piper’s frustration in finding words adequate enough to describe what heaven is like. One of his descriptions that is especially difficult to comprehend – but no less thrilling – is of the sound in heaven. He describes it as too many voices to count and too many instruments to identify, all endlessly singing and playing different glorious tunes that somehow meld together to create the most perfect noise imaginable. Such untamed noise would be agonizing to us here on earth, but in heaven it is as perfect as the One to whom it is directed. How wondrous a thought!
Of course, it is not just music that creates a joyful noise. As Amy Grant reminds us in her song "Better than a Hallelujah," God longs to hear our voices lifted to Him in a variety of ways – including from the depths of our sorrow. If the noise we create is directed towards communing with our God, He is not concerned with how pretty it sounds. Just as looking put-together and stylish for worship is meaningless to God, so too is the package in which our praise is presented. Any noise lifted to Him from a humble and grateful heart is in perfect pitch.
For many years, I drove forty minutes each way to and from my job. My route took me through mostly rural areas where I felt free to belt out whatever song came across my radio. Songs by Casting Crowns were my favorites, drawing the attention of many a passing cow over the years. Now, I travel a much shorter and busier route to work. I’m still adjusting to the sideways glances and looks of amusement I elicit from other drivers, ever self-conscious of how I must look and sound. Added to that is my daughter’s brutally honest assessment of my singing when we’re at home: when I sing, she covers her ears. It’s enough to humble anyone into silence!
Regardless of what fellow travelers, cows, or even my daughter may think, I have no intention of being quiet. After all, I’m not auditioning in front of millions of TV viewers on "American Idol." If God is the One to whom I sing, then the quality of my voice does not matter. He will not tell me to hire a vocal coach and try again next year. When we all make a joyful noise unto the Lord, we become part of the gloriously perfect melody of His creation, faithfully rehearsing for the choir of the heavenly host. It is silence from God’s people, not noise, that is deafening.
So, sing away, fellow travelers on God’s road! Let me know if you need an alto for your song…
Friday, January 27, 2012
The Hurdle of Self-Forgiveness
"If My people who are called by My name put away their pride and pray, and look for My face, and turn from their sinful ways, then I will hear from heaven. I will forgive their sin, and will heal their land." (2 Chronicles 7:14)
We’ve all heard the saying, "It’s easier to forgive an enemy than a friend," something I’m sure many of us have found to be true in our lives. We expect people we know and trust to always treat us well, to never hurt or betray us. When they do, the hurt and betrayal are felt more deeply. But what about forgiving ourselves? I don’t know about you, but I tend to expect more from myself than anyone else. I know what I’m capable of, so I know what to expect of myself. When I make a mistake, when I commit a sin of some kind, it disappoints me greatly, sometimes to the extent that I hold a grudge against myself. Can you relate?
I recently read a story from an inmate who is serving a life sentence for murdering his wife. He has accepted responsibility for what he’s done, and he has accepted salvation through Christ, but he cannot find it in him to forgive himself. Not only did he kill his wife, but he also used and abused countless people in order to facilitate his drug addiction. All of this was a heavy emotional burden for a man already enduring the precarious reality of life behind bars. With the encouragement of a Christian sponsor, this man finally came to the realization that he was being selfish. By refusing to forgive himself – when Jesus already had – he was denying both of them the fullness of a relationship God intends for us all.
If we are unable to forgive ourselves for past sin, we are in essence denying what Christ did for us on the cross. We are claiming a wisdom and judgment above God Himself. God formed us in His image, to glorify Him and to accomplish His will on the earth that He created. He loves us so much that He sacrificed His one and only son on our behalf, so that we may be forgiven and redeemed. If God thinks enough of us to forgive us the sins that required Christ’s sacrifice, then is it not appropriate for us to forgive ourselves? Forgiving sin does not erase its impact. We all have a duty to learn from our mistakes, so that we may follow the Lord more closely. But dwelling on those mistakes – and our "rottenness" for committing them – only keeps us separated from a loving God who gave everything to be with us.
Is there a sin for which you haven’t forgiven yourself? Have you made such a terrible mistake, hurt someone so badly, that you wear it like a scarlet letter? God commands us to forgive one another, but "one another" includes oneself. All our sins - even the ones we deem unforgivable - were nailed to the cross long ago. It's time we left them there and joined Christ in a life redeemed through Him. I may not have murdered anyone, but among the many sins of which I'm guilty is refusing to forgive myself for past wrongs. When Jesus appeared to the disciples after Calvary, His scars were present, but the sins that caused them had been erased. Our perfect God forgives His imperfect, but repentent children. It's time we dare to forgive ourselves.
We’ve all heard the saying, "It’s easier to forgive an enemy than a friend," something I’m sure many of us have found to be true in our lives. We expect people we know and trust to always treat us well, to never hurt or betray us. When they do, the hurt and betrayal are felt more deeply. But what about forgiving ourselves? I don’t know about you, but I tend to expect more from myself than anyone else. I know what I’m capable of, so I know what to expect of myself. When I make a mistake, when I commit a sin of some kind, it disappoints me greatly, sometimes to the extent that I hold a grudge against myself. Can you relate?
I recently read a story from an inmate who is serving a life sentence for murdering his wife. He has accepted responsibility for what he’s done, and he has accepted salvation through Christ, but he cannot find it in him to forgive himself. Not only did he kill his wife, but he also used and abused countless people in order to facilitate his drug addiction. All of this was a heavy emotional burden for a man already enduring the precarious reality of life behind bars. With the encouragement of a Christian sponsor, this man finally came to the realization that he was being selfish. By refusing to forgive himself – when Jesus already had – he was denying both of them the fullness of a relationship God intends for us all.
If we are unable to forgive ourselves for past sin, we are in essence denying what Christ did for us on the cross. We are claiming a wisdom and judgment above God Himself. God formed us in His image, to glorify Him and to accomplish His will on the earth that He created. He loves us so much that He sacrificed His one and only son on our behalf, so that we may be forgiven and redeemed. If God thinks enough of us to forgive us the sins that required Christ’s sacrifice, then is it not appropriate for us to forgive ourselves? Forgiving sin does not erase its impact. We all have a duty to learn from our mistakes, so that we may follow the Lord more closely. But dwelling on those mistakes – and our "rottenness" for committing them – only keeps us separated from a loving God who gave everything to be with us.
Is there a sin for which you haven’t forgiven yourself? Have you made such a terrible mistake, hurt someone so badly, that you wear it like a scarlet letter? God commands us to forgive one another, but "one another" includes oneself. All our sins - even the ones we deem unforgivable - were nailed to the cross long ago. It's time we left them there and joined Christ in a life redeemed through Him. I may not have murdered anyone, but among the many sins of which I'm guilty is refusing to forgive myself for past wrongs. When Jesus appeared to the disciples after Calvary, His scars were present, but the sins that caused them had been erased. Our perfect God forgives His imperfect, but repentent children. It's time we dare to forgive ourselves.
Monday, January 16, 2012
More Than Words
Dear Dr. King,
I was born about a decade after you were killed. The unrest you faced in our nation has been relayed to me only through textbooks and relatives who lived on the outskirts of the turmoil. The words you penned and so bravely spoke inspire me as a writer and a lover of Jesus. I searched through a list of quotes from you, with the plan of using one of them as a premise for this written remembrance of you. Not only is it nearly impossible to choose a single line from your beautifully articulated arsenal, but to simply quote you seems inadequate and perhaps not at all what you intended.
A couple of years ago, I attended a small meeting at the State Library in Columbus, Ohio. Prior to the meeting, I perused the library shelves for something interesting, ever eager to get my hands on good writing. My eye was drawn to a small book that appeared so old that it might crumble to be touched. Inside was a collection of essays from politicians in 19th Century America, outlining the argument for the abolition of slavery. Their arguments were very much the same as yours, and every bit as compelling. All too easily, I shook my head and thought, ‘How could people not agree with this?’
As I write today, our nation is observing your contribution as a great civil rights leader. Reading the quotes I’ve found from you, I again shake my head in disbelief that anyone could challenge the truth of your words. But it occurs to me that believing the truth of something, and choosing to act on that truth, are two vastly different things. Maybe I don’t mistreat people of a different race than me, but what am I doing to combat the mistreatment I see and hear all around me? What am I doing to address the crushing, widespread poverty in this country, in my own backyard? As you were fond of reminding us, apathy is just as bad as perpetration, which makes me as guilty as the lynch mobs of your time. I am a modern-day Saul, checking the coats of those who have come to stone Stephen. I must actively seek God's transformation of me into a Paul.
I admire you as a writer, for expressing truth using a magnificent balance of passion and logic, but I admire you so much more for your fearless adherence to living out that truth through relentless action. The civil rights movement of the 1960s might be long gone, but injustice, oppression and indifference of many kinds are ever-present. The world sorely needs a dose of your courage, starting with me. For, as you said, “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”
Rest well, Dr. King. I look forward to meeting you in Glory.
I was born about a decade after you were killed. The unrest you faced in our nation has been relayed to me only through textbooks and relatives who lived on the outskirts of the turmoil. The words you penned and so bravely spoke inspire me as a writer and a lover of Jesus. I searched through a list of quotes from you, with the plan of using one of them as a premise for this written remembrance of you. Not only is it nearly impossible to choose a single line from your beautifully articulated arsenal, but to simply quote you seems inadequate and perhaps not at all what you intended.
A couple of years ago, I attended a small meeting at the State Library in Columbus, Ohio. Prior to the meeting, I perused the library shelves for something interesting, ever eager to get my hands on good writing. My eye was drawn to a small book that appeared so old that it might crumble to be touched. Inside was a collection of essays from politicians in 19th Century America, outlining the argument for the abolition of slavery. Their arguments were very much the same as yours, and every bit as compelling. All too easily, I shook my head and thought, ‘How could people not agree with this?’
As I write today, our nation is observing your contribution as a great civil rights leader. Reading the quotes I’ve found from you, I again shake my head in disbelief that anyone could challenge the truth of your words. But it occurs to me that believing the truth of something, and choosing to act on that truth, are two vastly different things. Maybe I don’t mistreat people of a different race than me, but what am I doing to combat the mistreatment I see and hear all around me? What am I doing to address the crushing, widespread poverty in this country, in my own backyard? As you were fond of reminding us, apathy is just as bad as perpetration, which makes me as guilty as the lynch mobs of your time. I am a modern-day Saul, checking the coats of those who have come to stone Stephen. I must actively seek God's transformation of me into a Paul.
I admire you as a writer, for expressing truth using a magnificent balance of passion and logic, but I admire you so much more for your fearless adherence to living out that truth through relentless action. The civil rights movement of the 1960s might be long gone, but injustice, oppression and indifference of many kinds are ever-present. The world sorely needs a dose of your courage, starting with me. For, as you said, “Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.”
Rest well, Dr. King. I look forward to meeting you in Glory.
Friday, January 13, 2012
The Answer in the Opportunity
Recently, I was watching the movie "Evan Almighty," starring Steve Carell as a Washington politician who is called by God to build an ark. At the end of the movie, Evan is standing in a field near a tree talking to God, played by Morgan Freeman. The exact context of the conversation eludes me now, but I was particularly struck by something "God" said. He said (and I’m paraphrasing), "If someone prays for courage, do you think I suddenly endow him with incredible bravery? No, I give him an opportunity to be courageous. If you pray for a closer relationship with your wife, do you think I wave a magic wand that instantly fills you with passion? No, I give you an opportunity to love."
It makes you think, doesn’t it? Oftentimes when we pray, we have a specific problem or issue we’re worried about and we’re seeking a quick and finite answer. We wait impatiently for the miraculous to happen, for God’s extended arm to descend from heaven, literally nudging us in the direction He wants us to go. Even if the answer was not what we hoped for or expected, it would be nice if prayers were answered in such a clear and obvious way. But while we’re waiting for God’s answer to our prayers, we often ignore the pulse of life around us – which is where God lives, breathes, and speaks to us.
For several years, I worked as a crisis counselor for rape and abuse victims, traveling to hospital ERs to support many women, a few men, and lots of teenagers through the painful process of being examined for evidence, treated for injury, and interviewed for the criminal justice process. After about four years of this, I was feeling a little burned out and I prayed to God for guidance. He had called me to this work in the first place, so I felt I needed His permission to even consider leaving. Weeks went by with no obvious answer and I was growing restless.
Then, I was called to the hospital to speak with a young woman who had been victimized. She was convinced that the crime she had suffered was punishment from God for being rebellious, and that she was going to go to hell. From talking further with her, I discovered she believed in Christ and always had. I told her, "I’ve got good news for you – you can’t go to hell. Jesus won’t let you. He loves you too much." She sobbed in my arms for the next hour, broken and bruised, but reassured in the truth of her faith. In eight years, through 600 cases, this was the one and only time a victim chose to discuss his/her faith with me. God was talking. I worked four more years.
Late last year, I gave up my career as a crisis counselor and accepted a completely different job as a grant-writer, a decision fraught with much angst and prayer. Although I felt relieved to leave behind such an emotionally demanding job and to utilize my writing skills more, I still craved God’s input on my decision. Did He understand why I needed to leave? Was He disappointed that I had abandoned the work He had called me to do? Recently, a man who had been indirectly associated with my former workplace emailed me to ask if I’d be willing to help him grow a ministry he had established. The ministry provides support to those who’ve been abused. Among the services I will eventually provide is helping victims to verbalize their emotions, and to tell their stories of hope and recovery - in writing.
Indeed, the answer to prayer often lies in the opportunities God places in our paths, if we are willing to be still and pay attention.
It makes you think, doesn’t it? Oftentimes when we pray, we have a specific problem or issue we’re worried about and we’re seeking a quick and finite answer. We wait impatiently for the miraculous to happen, for God’s extended arm to descend from heaven, literally nudging us in the direction He wants us to go. Even if the answer was not what we hoped for or expected, it would be nice if prayers were answered in such a clear and obvious way. But while we’re waiting for God’s answer to our prayers, we often ignore the pulse of life around us – which is where God lives, breathes, and speaks to us.
For several years, I worked as a crisis counselor for rape and abuse victims, traveling to hospital ERs to support many women, a few men, and lots of teenagers through the painful process of being examined for evidence, treated for injury, and interviewed for the criminal justice process. After about four years of this, I was feeling a little burned out and I prayed to God for guidance. He had called me to this work in the first place, so I felt I needed His permission to even consider leaving. Weeks went by with no obvious answer and I was growing restless.
Then, I was called to the hospital to speak with a young woman who had been victimized. She was convinced that the crime she had suffered was punishment from God for being rebellious, and that she was going to go to hell. From talking further with her, I discovered she believed in Christ and always had. I told her, "I’ve got good news for you – you can’t go to hell. Jesus won’t let you. He loves you too much." She sobbed in my arms for the next hour, broken and bruised, but reassured in the truth of her faith. In eight years, through 600 cases, this was the one and only time a victim chose to discuss his/her faith with me. God was talking. I worked four more years.
Late last year, I gave up my career as a crisis counselor and accepted a completely different job as a grant-writer, a decision fraught with much angst and prayer. Although I felt relieved to leave behind such an emotionally demanding job and to utilize my writing skills more, I still craved God’s input on my decision. Did He understand why I needed to leave? Was He disappointed that I had abandoned the work He had called me to do? Recently, a man who had been indirectly associated with my former workplace emailed me to ask if I’d be willing to help him grow a ministry he had established. The ministry provides support to those who’ve been abused. Among the services I will eventually provide is helping victims to verbalize their emotions, and to tell their stories of hope and recovery - in writing.
Indeed, the answer to prayer often lies in the opportunities God places in our paths, if we are willing to be still and pay attention.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Something to Root For
If you’re a football fan like me, the attention paid to Denver Broncos rookie quarterback Tim Tebow this season may have piqued your interest. In his debut season, Tebow has surprised many critics who claimed he was not ready for the big stage of the NFL. While he has certainly had his struggles, spectacular games like the one yesterday demonstrate that he’s got what it takes to become a great quarterback. In case you missed it, Tebow threw a touchdown pass on the first play in overtime to defeat the favored Pittsburgh Steelers. Prior to the game, one of the sportscasters stated that he didn’t expect the Broncos to score a single point, let alone win.
What makes Tim Tebow unique among his peers is his unapologetic faith in Christ. While many other players in the NFL are devoted Christians, most are never thrust in the spotlight reserved for winning quarterbacks. Yet even under the pressure and heat of that kind of attention, Tebow has never stopped giving God the glory and the credit, even when doing so has elicited sharp criticism and outright mockery from the media and the public.
I have no idea if God is a football fan, as some have sarcastically suggested in response to Tebow this season. I doubt that God puts a whole lot of divine stock into a game for which He already knows the outcome. There are a couple of things, however, that I can safely assume about God and His place with Tim Tebow in the NFL. First, as Tebow has repeatedly reminded us, all true talent comes from God, including athletic ability. The extent to which any of us hones and utilizes our talents is up to us, but the talent is placed within us by God alone. The fact that Tebow continually gives God the credit for that talent must be pleasing to Him. If I’m unsure about that, all I need to do is examine the extent to which it annoys the living daylights out of just about everyone. Truth has a way of annoying those who refuse to believe it.
Perhaps more importantly, it is fairly obvious that sports in general, and football in particular, have become a god in American culture. There’s a reason 30-second ads during the Super Bowl cost a fortune. Our obsession with sports has become so ingrained that we place star athletes on a pedestal far above personal accountability, such that they come to believe they are like God, entitled to whatever they want, whenever they want it. This travesty can be glimpsed in small doses as early as grade-school age all around the country. How many professional athletes have committed sometimes heinous crimes, only to continue playing and earning their millions? As long as they are winning and generating revenue, owners, coaches and fans are willing to look the other way without a modicum of justice. I doubt you or I would encounter such mercy in our own lives.
Enter Tim Tebow, a young man in the midst of the granddaddy of American sports, the NFL. Now, Tebow is not perfect and he’ll be the first to admit that. At some point, he will likely falter in his personal life and the media will respond, drooling. Certainly he will encounter winning moments and bitter defeats in his football career. I’m simply suggesting that maybe God has chosen Tim Tebow as an instrument through which the false god of the NFL can get a little dose of reality. If you or I were to say, "Football is not God. God is God," we would elicit blank stares, confused looks and shrugged shoulders. For a star quarterback to be saying that is quite another thing entirely. But isn’t that just like God, to use an unlikely person from within to get a point across?
I don’t know if God is a football fan, but to ponder such a thing is missing the point. Tim Tebow is unabashedly bringing God into a godless institution of our society. Regardless of the scoreboard, that’s something I can root for.
What makes Tim Tebow unique among his peers is his unapologetic faith in Christ. While many other players in the NFL are devoted Christians, most are never thrust in the spotlight reserved for winning quarterbacks. Yet even under the pressure and heat of that kind of attention, Tebow has never stopped giving God the glory and the credit, even when doing so has elicited sharp criticism and outright mockery from the media and the public.
I have no idea if God is a football fan, as some have sarcastically suggested in response to Tebow this season. I doubt that God puts a whole lot of divine stock into a game for which He already knows the outcome. There are a couple of things, however, that I can safely assume about God and His place with Tim Tebow in the NFL. First, as Tebow has repeatedly reminded us, all true talent comes from God, including athletic ability. The extent to which any of us hones and utilizes our talents is up to us, but the talent is placed within us by God alone. The fact that Tebow continually gives God the credit for that talent must be pleasing to Him. If I’m unsure about that, all I need to do is examine the extent to which it annoys the living daylights out of just about everyone. Truth has a way of annoying those who refuse to believe it.
Perhaps more importantly, it is fairly obvious that sports in general, and football in particular, have become a god in American culture. There’s a reason 30-second ads during the Super Bowl cost a fortune. Our obsession with sports has become so ingrained that we place star athletes on a pedestal far above personal accountability, such that they come to believe they are like God, entitled to whatever they want, whenever they want it. This travesty can be glimpsed in small doses as early as grade-school age all around the country. How many professional athletes have committed sometimes heinous crimes, only to continue playing and earning their millions? As long as they are winning and generating revenue, owners, coaches and fans are willing to look the other way without a modicum of justice. I doubt you or I would encounter such mercy in our own lives.
Enter Tim Tebow, a young man in the midst of the granddaddy of American sports, the NFL. Now, Tebow is not perfect and he’ll be the first to admit that. At some point, he will likely falter in his personal life and the media will respond, drooling. Certainly he will encounter winning moments and bitter defeats in his football career. I’m simply suggesting that maybe God has chosen Tim Tebow as an instrument through which the false god of the NFL can get a little dose of reality. If you or I were to say, "Football is not God. God is God," we would elicit blank stares, confused looks and shrugged shoulders. For a star quarterback to be saying that is quite another thing entirely. But isn’t that just like God, to use an unlikely person from within to get a point across?
I don’t know if God is a football fan, but to ponder such a thing is missing the point. Tim Tebow is unabashedly bringing God into a godless institution of our society. Regardless of the scoreboard, that’s something I can root for.
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