decisions

Resurrection

The homework this week was, essentially, to pay attention. Pay attention to our lives, the small, subtle, seemingly insignificant prompts and choices that bombard us on a moment-by-moment basis. These prompts usually skate by, unnoticed, as do the choices, which we will often ignore. Then, we wake up and it’s days, months, years later and we ask, “How did I get here?” as if we’ve been blown by the wind to spaces we never meant to go.

It’s sometimes hard to see any ability to steer our own ships. We can feel out of control, swept along in the endless ticking of the clock, as the world batters us with circumstance and situations we didn’t ask for and don’t particularly like. We’re in a consistent state of fear – our internal fight-or-flight mechanism is always triggered, reacting, never ever acting out of intention. We put out the fires that spontaneously erupt.

The homework is an invitation to investigate if all of those fires are truly ‘spontaneous.’ If we really aren’t asking for the circumstances and situations, and if we don’t actually like them. Are we blown about by the wind, or are we simply acquiescing to the wind, without anchors or roots? Have we forgotten to wake up? Forgotten to lean in and engage?

Resurrection means coming back to life after death, and now is a great time to talk about what that means. Jesus Christ was killed, crucified, and, 3 days later, was resurrected. In His sacrifice and empty tomb, we are given new life. Through Him, and Him alone, we are reborn.

Now, what does that mean in our lives? Can the lives we’ve allowed to exist on life support, each day the same monotonous loop, live again? Can our relationships, our marriages, friendships, families, which have grown stagnant and distant, rise from the grave? Are we really this powerless, or is it the delusion that accompanies a death of hope? Are we made to be this afraid, constantly stressed, anxious, overwhelmed? What if the world (nations, communities, etc) needs us to show up, fully present, and we can’t, because we’re numb, checked out, fully sedated by comfort, convenience, inside bubbles of self-interest?

Everything. YES. YES. NO. NO. Then the world is missing something/someone absolutely vital and will not be whole, until we do.

The homework is my way of asking us to look around. But it’s not mine, at all. I believe the question is built into every book, chapter, verse, and word of the Bible, asking us to acknowledge our design to live, and live again. To love again. To refuse to accept death as “just what it is.” To hold a revolution against the world that continues to lie, telling us that if the tomb was empty, it has nothing to do with us, our lives, our relationships, our hearts, today. The world that lies, telling us that there are no prompts or choices, and that, instead, we are the insignificant.

The homework in the Scriptures is to open our eyes, wake up, and see them, and us, for what they are, and to see God for who He is. The homework is to see the question crackling all around us. Who is He? Who are we? And what will we do now? The homework, I suppose, is to say YES, and see that we can be resurrected, too.

Super Soldier Serum

The site prompt is, “What would you do if you won the lottery?” And that makes me think of a line from the Marvel TV show The Falcon & The Winter Soldier. There’s a guy who is supposed to be the new Captain America, and he’s debating about whether or not he should take a super soldier serum (which sounds silly to write here, but it is a superhero show), and his buddy, Lamar, tells him, “power just makes you more of what you are.” That applies to money, too, obviously. I don’t necessarily ascribe to the theory that “absolute power corrupts absolutely.”

The full quote (from Lord Acton, the 13th Marquess of Groppoli – full disclosure, I don’t have any idea what a Marquess is or what/where/who Groppoli is, but I love that I could use it in real life) is, “Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men, even when they exercise influence and not authority; still more when you superadd the tendency of the certainty of corruption by authority.” Power does tend to corrupt, but I can’t go with ‘absolute/always’ of the rest. But again, speaking of words, I’m using “superadd” immediately and often.

And this makes me think of Sunday morning, and our discussion on character and judgment. We could talk forever about these 2 topics, right?

Character is the x-factor that disproves the 13th Marquess of Groppoli, and reinforces Lamar’s comments. If a man has the kind of character traits Paul is listing to Titus, maybe that’s exactly the kind of person who should have power, who would use it in service, to help, to build, to defend, to give, to love. Maybe that’s exactly the kind of person who should take a super soldier serum.

But what if we don’t have that kind of character? You know I wanted to add, “…kind of character now, today?” That’s why judgment is so linked in my mind to character. Christ makes us new, so this very moment is the perfect opportunity to begin to superadd this kind of integrity.

Judgment is making decisions about someone’s essence. For instance, to use our terms from the message, when that boy/girl that behaves violently, full of bitterness, with anger, rage and hatred, he/she IS, in the deepest parts of themselves, that kind of person, and worse, will always be that kind of person. We lock them in a box they can never escape. When Jesus says, “Do not judge,” I think He means to open that box. Whether they climb out of the box built from their own actions, or not, is up to them and Jesus Christ, certainly not me. I can hope & pray they do. And maybe that box involves the consequences of those actions or our boundaries. But we no longer hold the key to another’s cell.

And then Jesus brilliantly turns our spotlight into a mirror. “Take the plank out of your own eye.” So, we no longer have the key to another’s cell, but we do have the key to our own. We can leave. We can start anew, and write a beautiful new story. We can allow and encourage others to do the same. We can become the people who can take the super soldier serum or win the lottery and use it to bless everyone, everywhere.

Go First

Last Sunday, we recklessly dove into the deepest of water, discussing who goes first, in our closest relationships. (Maybe more than only our closest relationships.) Who loves first? Who honors first? Who respects first? Who submits first? Sure, it’s uncomfortable, because we really like when they do, but when we both wait for the other, then what?

The Bible has these passages on “household codes,” where we have some clear direction on how to deal with each other, creating healthy soil for beautiful marriages (etc) to grow. Quickly and easily, the answer is “I do,” no matter who is the “I” and who is the “you.” I imagine everyone there in Sunday is feeling a certain type of way, because it took me almost an hour to get to that last short sentence. But maybe the certain type of way is elated, maybe they hang on every word and wish it wasn’t over so soon, no matter how long it is?

Anyway. I wanted to write about this today. It is Wednesday, so there have surely been loads of opportunities to practice. Probably, Sunday afternoon gave plenty of chances to swallow our pride and step out and lean in.

Maybe you were thinking about that friend who never calls…and called her? Or maybe he didn’t do those dishes…so you did? Maybe you had a chance to withhold your affection to teach that husband of yours an important lesson… but didn’t? Maybe she was supposed to say how sorry she is and how right you are, but hasn’t yet, and now you’re faced with a sore backside and a choice… which you used to lay the offense down and move forward?

Or maybe, like my son, you took the opportunity to excuse your own behavior by quoting 1 Corinthians 13, “love keeps no record of wrongs.” Hahaha. The Bible comes in handy in many different ways, doesn’t it? If we know enough verses and are willing to disregard context, we can justify almost anything.

So, how did it go? Were you able to give some solid words of affirmation even though she hasn’t gotten you even the smallest, most insignificant, gift?? (I know, I know, no gift is small and insignificant for someone who speaks the love language of gifts, but you get the point.) Were you able to kiss her even though she hasn’t played a game or watched a movie with you in months??

This post could be called Even Though. We choose to _____ even though ______ . I’ll make dinner tonight for a crew who may not like it, may not appreciate what I’ve done, may not say thanks or clean up afterwards. Probably you will, too. Maybe you won’t want to, maybe you’ll seriously think about leaving dinner unmade, ingredients still in the fridge and cupboard. And we’ll all have a choice. Will we do it even though? Will we go first? Or will we dig in until someone recognizes my obvious high ground?

We were away on a 3 day vacation, and we all had many chances to plant ourselves in our high ground. But I think, the truth is, we all separately realized just how rare and fleeting these moments together are, and decided that missing them was just too high of a cost. Hopefully the next step for me is to realize just how rare and fleeting all moments are, and not miss any more in service of my own fragile ego, and plant something fresh and new in the ‘high’ ground.

Decisions, Decisions

I think, if I had to pick one sentence from yesterday’s message that was the hardest to say, and to hear, it would be: “If he chooses to honor her, if she chooses to honor him…” Whatever comes next, those words are so charged with meaning and possibility. What if he did? What if she did? Then what?

I also wanted to share what I heard in a video on Instagram. An interviewer asked a woman if she was married, and she said yes. At this point, it was very light, she was smiley and easy-going. He then asked her if HE was happy. “Is he happy?” This was surprising, to her, and to me. She restated the question, making sure that she heard correctly, then said, “I thought you’d ask me if I was happy.” He said he wanted to care for him, too. I know, right!??! The mood between them changed, as if he attacked her. She became silent and sullen, finally saying, “**** you,” which I guess, answered the question without answering the question.

I wonder what we’d say if we were asked the same question about our relationships. More than just our marriages, would our friends say they’re happy and valued in our company? Do they feel important, heard, cared for, by us? How about our children? Just to be sure, I told the Angel, if anyone ever asked her, that yes, I was awfully happy. She told me she was, too.

If you had the courage to ask your husband/wife if he/she was happy, what would he/she say? Do you know the answer? Would they tell you the truth? How would you react if the answer was no? Would you be offended, would you pout and make them feel like they shouldn’t have answered so honestly? Would you respond the way that woman in the video did?

Of course, I want all of us to say “Yes,” but I am fully aware that many of us would not. In that case, would the answer change IF he chooses to honor her, IF she chooses to honor him?

One last observation. What is the only requirement to changing the environment between us? Or our environment anywhere? Our choice to act. If we knew we could change the space in our homes with one choice, would we make that decision? Would we stop keeping score, cutting with our words, detaching, punishing each other with our tones or disconnection? Would we speak positively, encourage, and support each other?

And, apparently, what I meant was 2 more observations. The 2nd is…what would our lives look like IF we chose to honor ourselves? Maybe that’s an even bigger ask. We often speak to us in a more destructive manner than we would ever speak to another. We commit such acts of violence towards ourselves, whether it is staying in abusive relationships, acting as if we are absolutely worthless in countless ways.

…And all (I say “all” fully knowing it’s a Herculean “all”) it takes is a choice. And then another, and another, and another. Until everything is different, a whole new creation.

What Will We Choose?

Sunday’s message was about one thing, but it certainly felt like a far bigger bridge to cross. We were talking about the words submission & love in the context of Ephesians 5, in a conversation about our marriage relationships, but so much of it felt like a message on the power of the tongue. The way we speak to each other has the power to build, and it also has the power to absolutely demolish.

Of course, this isn’t just the words we use. There’s a lot more to communication than what would be written on a transcript. There is our posture, non-verbal cues, expressions, body language. When I give these Sunday morning talks, it’s pretty easy to know what everybody thinks based simply on how they are sitting in the pews. A person leaning back with folded arms is having a very different experience than one who leans forward with wide, open eyes. And then, there are the ones who nod off – that’s something else altogether, with little to do with the content. Some scrunch up their faces, some smile, some physically turn their bodies away from me, some write (and it’s obvious if what they’re writing is about the message or funny notes to the one sitting next to them) and others are just patiently waiting for me to finish (and others not so patiently).

This hasn’t even touched on the heart postures we hold toward each other to affect the space between us. Brene Brown wrote a brilliant reference book, labeling & defining our emotions so we have the words to communicate what we are feeling effectively. Usually, we use 3 descriptions: happy, sad, mad. That’s it. But that isn’t nearly enough to adequately convey our current mental/emotional states.

She has a chapter called “Places we go when we feel wronged,” and lists “anger, contempt, disgust, dehumanization, hate, self-righteousness.” We know these are not the same feelings, but we’d often just say ‘mad.’ Contempt is not anger. Brown cites researchers that call contempt “perhaps the most corrosive force in a marriage,” and a “strong predictor of divorce.” My guess is that we didn’t need researchers to tell us that. We have seen the look of contempt, and when we see it in a relationship across the table, we know very well how far past the edge it has gotten and now can only helplessly wait for the official end.

Paul uses submission, respect, honor, and a million others in his letters, but they’re all really just love. These words are all choices. We choose to submit, respect…or to carry the wrecking ball of contempt. Like so much of the Bible, we are left with a BIG decision: What will we choose? Will we choose to heal or to cut further? Will we choose to set down the record of wrongs or put them under our pillows in bed? We have a lot more agency in this than we believe, we do have the power to write new chapters and create new worlds (we are made in the image of our God, and have His Spirit living in us, after all), if only we have the imagination to dream this new story.

Be Careful

I think the passage we discussed Sunday, from Ephesians 5, is a pretty perfect illustration of how cool – and vital – the Bible really is. Paul begins with an exhortation to “be careful” how we live, then writes about fools, the time, and drunkenness.

The fools he talks about are real people (of course, they are real people) in his culture who do the things they do as if there are no consequence to anything. They live wildly, as if everything is random and unconnected, and they are wrong. (And when I say “they,” we all know I mean “we.”)

They are wrong because of the idea he next gives: the time. This is not time, like clocks and appointments. This is time, like opportunity. We have time, and that’s short and fairly fixed. The time is big, awesome, malleable and able to be grabbed and held onto, OR, lost to insignificance. We all have 60 seconds/minute, 60 minutes/hour. We all have the time, as well, to see as we choose.

Then he moves, with 1 verse, to the word drunkenness. To be honest, it sticks out. This isn’t a word in the middle of a list of do’s and don’t’s. It’s just one isolated don’t in a passage about the time, and how we live. Yes, drunkenness is a part of how we live, but why would he choose only that one above all of the other ways we take wrecking balls to our own lives? Depending on the translation, drunkenness is “debauchery,” “dissipation,” or the one I just read and hadn’t heard before, “rebellion.” All of these fall mostly flat. The word he actually uses is “asotia.” Drunkenness is asotia. That means, in a sentence, when our behavior (obviously, this is bigger than simply having too much to drink, it can be anything) causes us to waste the opportunity, the time, we have.

And that can help us tie it all together. When our wild, maniacal, foolish behavior causes us to squander, or waste, the time we have, we are careless with our lives. (Funny, I mistyped that last word ‘lives’ as ‘loves,’ and I’m thinking it’s not so much of a mistake. How much has our asotia stolen from our loves – either the people we love, or the activities or beautiful things we love???)

I think Ephesians 4:1 is mostly all we need to know about behavior modification. “Live lives worthy of your calling.” Now I think Ephesians 5:15-20 is just as great, maybe even more apt to our current modern situation. If I were ever going to write another book, I bet it would be about this passage. I could have a whole Be Very Careful… series. (The last one was called Be Very Careful Who You Marry. This one could be called Be Very Careful Who You Are.)

But maybe I won’t write a book on it, maybe the next thing, the next right step, is to actually be careful with my life, stop squandering the time I have, and really live this gift. That would be the creative expression Paul’s looking for, not just another book nobody reads. (Though maybe I can do both and write that one anyway.)

Cookies

Sunday’s message ended with the wildly unreasonable command of Jesus to gouge out our eyes if they cause us to lust, to cut off our hands if they cause us to sin. Obviously, He couldn’t have actually meant that, right??? It’s this kind of passage, in the Sermon On The Mount, no less, that causes us such trouble and leads us down paths of discussion on hyperbole and exaggeration – which gives us a very nice, convenient out.

I’m reading Judges right now. (My practice is to read 2 passages, one from an Old Testament book and one from a New Testament book – the New Testament is Revelation. Just some light, easy reading. Ha!) In chapter 2, Israel does what Israel does – what we do – and is disobedient. Maybe it’s pretty subtle, but disobedience nonetheless. They have been told to “drive out” all the people in the Promised Land, and the chorus of the first chapter of Joshua is “____ failed to drive out the people living in _____” This refrain is in verses 19, 27, 29, 30, 31, and 33. Now, maybe they failed to drive out any of them or maybe just not all, but it’s still the same idea. They were given instructions and didn’t follow them.

In chapter 2, we are told Israel “abandoned the LORD… They chased after other gods, worshiping the gods of the people around them.” Now, why were the people around them? Because they didn’t drive them out. Because they didn’t do what God asked of them, commanded them.

If I keep cookies in the house, I’m going to eat them.

A solid trainer who knows me well will tell me to get them out of the house. Will tell me that I can’t be trusted (even if it hurts my feelings.) Will give me the tools to set myself up for success. Then, if I get rid of all but some or none of the cookies, I haven’t listened to him. And it might not be today or tomorrow, but I will eventually eat them.

The Canaanites are the cookies. gods like Baal and Ashtoreth and those ridiculous Asherah poles are just more cookies. And the Israelites are just like me, they can’t be trusted with cookies in the house.

So Jesus tells us, if the cookies cause you to stumble, if you’re going to eat those cookies, throw them out. If your computer causes you to stumble, throw it out. Maybe we can’t use our phones when we’re alone, maybe we need some controls. If our time alone with our boyfriends & girlfriends brings unbearable temptation, then maybe we don’t get alone time. Maybe we’re always outside or with others.

But we’re NOT children, we have enormous reserves of will power. We can stop any time we want. We can hold firm. We don’t have to eat the cookies. We are very strong and disciplined. And I’m 100% sure that’s true. This minute.

David could be on his roof – after all, it’s his roof. He could just not look at his neighbor Bathsheba (who, incidentally, is considered by whoever decides these sorts of things, one of the 5 most beautiful women to ever live. And whoever does decide probably has never seen the Angel, so maybe not top 5, but we get the point.) And I’m positive he did. For a while. Nobody takes the money from the drawer the first time they’re on the register. (I know, everybody says they do, says it’s the first time, but nobody believes that because it’s never true. And if it ever was, it’s such a small percentage that the exception proves the rule.)

I don’t have to eat the cookies today, maybe not even this week. But there will be a night I can’t sleep, or I’m sad, or disappointed, or just bored. Then, those cookies are in big trouble.

This hyperbole isn’t an out at all, it’s an illustration of how important it is. We’d rather not have hands than more cookies, and not have eyes than be that violently destructive to our own bodies, souls and spirits. If the off ramp is there, we’re going to take it. We’re going to settle for less, we’re going to forget that we’re children of the King, going to forget we’re made to fly.

And it’s really hard to fly while our arms are full of cookies.

Inbetweeners

One of my least favorite parts of coaching baseball were game days with a threat of rain. Maybe it would drizzle. Maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe the radar shows lots of activity right about the time we are scheduled to get to the field. Maybe it shows it at game time. I would check the hourly weather every 10 minutes, then check the hourly weather on all of the other sites, I’d call the other coaches to see what they thought, then I’d call them again, then I’d call my wife and grumble that it should either rain or not. I never liked the in between. I wanted God to make it easy for me, sunshine or pouring rain. Actually, that’s not true, I can’t say “easy,” because so many of our choices and the consequences aren’t easy, but I wanted to know the path to take. Even if it wasn’t the path I wanted, I wanted to know it was the path I was supposed to take.

Um, “supposed to?” Who decides what’s supposed to happen? Who we’re supposed to be? How it’s supposed to go? Is there ever a path we’re supposed to take? … Anyway.

We are in the midst of a building decision. I presented the paths several months ago and we’ve been praying ever since. The last 2 weeks, we began sharing our thoughts, answers, prompts. I hoped we’d all have the same conclusion. I hoped it would rain or not.

Of course, it was drizzly with colors possible on the future radar. 47% chance, which means it might rain. And it might not. Now, we’ve lived long enough, and if we’ve been even half-awake, we’ve experienced 0’s & 100’s that didn’t pan out. We don’t hold anything to be, as my son says, a “for sure-ski.” But we do like black and white, gray is uncomfortable. Gray also invites the Second Guessers, who are laying in giddy breathless anticipation to tell us we’re wrong and how could we possibly have made that decision???

So, is it going to rain or not? Then, we’re super spiritual and say, “if God is in it, we’ll know.” But is that really true? Probably not if we read and believe the Bible. When the Israelites were preparing to cross into the Promised Land, they were faced with a Jordan River at flood stage. The raging water could have been interpreted as God not being in it, right? If He was, He would certainly make it a shallow slow trickle, right? But instead, they were to send the priests with the Ark of the Covenant into the water. Do you think there was a chance they wondered if they misheard? Is that really what He said? Maybe He said “wait, and then send the priests in,” or maybe we were late to listen and He said “DON’T send the priests with the Ark into the water.”

Jesus got out of a boat in a storm and asked Peter to get out with Him. Maybe He’d save him. I wonder if Peter thought, John the Baptizer followed Jesus into the unknown and it ended…well, it didn’t end awesome for him. What if He’s going to say, again, “Blessed are those that don’t fall away because of Me,” after I drown?

We don’t usually get assurance for the next step. That’s what faith is, the “substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Hebrews 11:1)” The Israelites didn’t know what the Jordan would do or how they’d cross – they hoped. But they didn’t know.

And add to that complexity and confusion, sometimes faith means to go and sometimes faith means to not go. Sometimes, we have a choice between 2 good paths. Do we follow the Law and leave our donkey in the hole or cross the street to avoid a dead/dying man, or do we get the donkey out and rescue the man and put him up at a nearby inn? All of those are good, they are all the right answers. Now what? And then, sometimes we do the right thing and it doesn’t turn out very great. Does that make it not the right thing, do the ends define the means?

We are inbetweeners. Maybe it will rain and maybe it won’t. Maybe we will grab our donkey, and maybe we’ll send the priests into the Jordan, but what I can say is that we probably won’t know if it’s the ‘right’ thing. Maybe there isn’t such a thing as one ‘right’ thing.

Maybe the point of all of this is a relationship WITH Our Creator, and if we hold His hand, trust Him with us and with the gifts He’s given, put (and keep) Him first, then every choice is the ‘right’ choice. And if we don’t, then none are. I guess we’ll see. Unless we don’t. Ha. I like this last choice, this last “maybe,” the one that doesn’t have us choosing a building or now, but instead, has us choosing only to be WITH Him. Yes, that’s the one, where we’re with Him in the gray, if it rains or not.

Is It Worthy?

Last week, I wrote about dancing, romancing, and “killing grooves.” Today, it is occurring to me that there are some fundamentalist religious communities that seemingly exist to “kill the groove,” who don’t want us dancing and certainly would not encourage romancing. I don’t know why.

We make tons of rules and laws for living proper Christian lives, a simple remake of the Torah, based on our modern societal and moral characteristics. Am I allowed to dance? How close? How fast? How long? And with whom? My instinct is, obviously, to say, “YES!!! Dance!!! Dance now, today, and forever, for as long as we can!” But maybe that’s also pretty simplistic. Maybe none of this is that easy. Or maybe it’s even simpler.

We really like complex, and that’s probably so we have plenty of excuses and exit ramps. And we also love the idea that we are the ones who understand the complex, like a 2024 Gnosticism. “I have the special knowledge required to be a “good” Christian.”

[Here’s something I just noticed: I have never used the word “Christian” before without much consideration. It’s a loaded word with baggage in many of our lives. And we’ve somehow shoehorned it into a completely different part of speech, making it an adjective. It’s not, it’s a noun. It is a follower of Jesus Christ. And, like many other words – like church, sin, etc – to leave it behind because it’s been misunderstood as problematic is foolish and in desperate need of reclamation. We follow Christ, we are Christians. Nice.]

Ephesians 4:1 says, “live a life worthy of the calling you have received.” It is, at the same time, simpler and heavier, clearer and more open to interpretation. The question we all are invited to ask, through this verse, is, “is this (action, thought, word, post, meal, practice) worthy of my call?” And maybe it is, and maybe it’s not. Maybe you can have a drink with dinner and I can’t, based on a host of different factors. Maybe I can dance in a hot sweaty small room with flashing strobe lights, and maybe that’s a horrible idea for you. Maybe you can have an Oreo and I can’t. And timing is important, too. Maybe it’s time for you to add and maybe it’s time for you to subtract, and maybe the thing to be added or subtracted is the same thing.

I can’t tell you if you can dance or how close or for how long. I can’t say if those things hurt your soul and heart and take you farther from Your Creator. Maybe they do. And maybe they do today.

Of course, some things are always beneath us. Addiction, abuse, objectification, oppression, deceit, infidelity, and on and on, are unworthy of our status as children of The King. There is no circumstance where they are not, and that’s why we feel so gross when we participate in them.

This maybe business, this “live a life worthy” of your call, is not easy. It’s not a handbook that tells us in black and white. That might be frustrating, but that’s purposeful, too.

We can never forget that the point of all of this is relationship, a life lived WITH Him. We can’t do it on our own, weren’t supposed to, so we hold His (and each other’s) hand and say, “is this worthy?” We rely on Him to guide us, to show us where we’ve compromised, to tell us again and again who we are.

Then, we just have to believe Him. And dance. Or not. But probably dance.

Those People

Sunday, we discussed a gigantic question that sprang forth from a quotation by David Guzik in his Bible commentary.

Guzik wrote, “If the Lordship of Jesus Christ is not greater than any difference you have with others – be it political, racial, economic, language, geography, or whatever, then you have not fully understood what it means to be under the Lordship of Jesus.” And the question was, “is it?” Or “Has it?” Or something like that. Have we decided that our wholly arbitrary love of the Dallas Cowboys and hate of the New York Giants is bigger and more important than a cross and empty tomb? Or where we live, or what we do, or what we think about the tax code? Are there places in our lives where we use the phrase that can so easily expose the innermost parts of our own perspective, “those people?”

Then, as so often happens, I was immediately faced with a situation that confronted me with the implications of living a life without walls, and free of “those people.” It’s a bit of an occupational hazard, but more than that, it’s a human phenomenon. When we decide to consider our own patience, for instance, we immediately receive opportunities to practice that patience, where we can easily see where we are deficient.

A boy on the basketball team is academically ineligible for the rest of the season and playoffs. He is very likable and a nice basketball player, and he is also lots of other things we might infer from his situation that takes him out of the game. And probably those inferences are the gate to a path we don’t belong. Maybe those inferences are right, too. But does their rightness matter?

Inferences invite us to look at their motivation from across the room, empathy asks us to imagine from inside their skin. Jesus asks neither. Jesus asks us to love them, without thought of motivation.

Now, as a side note, it can be important teaching & learning to explore the behavior of others. In addition, it’s vital to practice empathy (whether we are gifted with it or not) to make connections and allow us to better agape someone else. We can use another person as case study to look inside our own motivations. They become, in effect, mirrors. It’s not gossip (unless it is), it is curiosity and accelerates growth.

But back to this boy. When I heard, I was disappointed and frustrated at the impact upon the team. I inferred, and began the foundation on a wall that separated us. In my initial reaction, I was one thing and he was another, both of which are completely irrelevant, “under the Lordship of Jesus.” In this Kingdom, we are not different in the least, we are both children of the Living God, created in love, by love, and for love. He’s ineligible, I wasn’t (but could have been as a high school junior), but neither matters in the way Our God sees us, and the way we are called to see each other and bring peace.

Now, is it ineligibility, or is it the party designation on our licenses, how we maintain our yards, cars, and garages, or our habits and/or personality quirks? There is no us & them, only we.

To be honest with you, it’s uncomfortable and a real nuisance when this happens. It’s just eligibility on a high school basketball team, I’d like to leave it there, just once. Offhand thoughts and comments might not be windows into our souls. Not everything is a matter of divine significance. Except, of course, that it is. And that is kind of a pain in the neck.

The choice we’re asked to make, that plays out in a bazillion different ways, several bazillion times per day, is simple (yet never easy), “He is either the Lord of our lives, or we are.” Now what?