Not so much anymore but several years ago the hot new relationships book was The Five Love Languages (FLL) by Gary Chapman. Though my knowledge of the book is limited to the reviews I heard from friends, some critical but mostly positive, I have been thinking about the broader topic within which the book fits and since this is my blog, here are the thoughts.
Relationship communication is frustrating, intimidating, prone to manipulation and misunderstanding, and clouded by emotion. FLL offers categories for understanding how people in relationships remind one another of their regard. It is an attempt to systematize how our friends and loved ones say “I love you” and must be applauded, because the potency of those words must not be underestimated. It is a brave book. I hope to read it someday J
Physical touch. Quality time. Words of affirmation. Gifts. Acts of Service. These are the five avenues Chapman believes everyone uses to communicate their love with another. Everyone through experience has learned comfortable channels to do an uncomfortable thing: telling each other how we feel. The author suggests that two people in a relationship understanding each other’s preferred means will lead to better communication and more enjoyment of each other as effective communication inevitably draws them closer together.
Now if we only could think rationally about something so saddled with baggage. Most of us spend inordinate amounts of time thinking about our relationships. In our obsessing, our emotional pathways do not become clearer, but, in fact, grow more obfuscated. Our over-analysis causes us to throw up our hands frustrated, because we don’t fall in only one of the categories. In fact, if given the time to recall, are we not confident we could see ways in which we communicate through two or three or all of the above avenues? So how does a man who likes physical touch and giving gifts and relate to a woman who whoe doesn’t understand why people have to be so “touchy-feely” and pines away for the days when her husband would take out the trash without being asked or serve her breakfast in bed? Is it just a case of the line from the Gershwin movie Shall We Dace?:
You like to-MAY-to, I like to-MAH-to
You like po-TAY-to, I like po-TAH-to
Let’s call the whole thing off.
Is it a wonder they made it this far?
Throughout Jesus’ ministry he continually opens up the hearts of those around him by communicating appropriately and compassionately. Just off the top of my head, I can think of multiple times where Jesus uses each of the categories mentioned to get his point across to the emotionally and spiritually stunted sheep who followed him around.
He touched people all the time and intentionally in order to draw them to himself. The bleeding and unclean woman is a good example. He makes time for those in his inner circle even though it would be easier to not avoid the crowds and pander to their adoration. He commends those who respond in faith. An example being his words to Peter after the Rock had professed his Messiahship. It would be to this same Peter that Jesus would give the money for the temple tax in a fish’s mouth and the washing of his disciples’ feet means he was not adverse to acts of service as well. Oh, and I seem to remember a story revolving around a small group of loaves and two fish that worked out pretty well for the invited guests.
My point, I think, is not just to say, “be more like Jesus. Love like he did.” Knowing ourselves and the tendencies of our loved ones is useful. I am sure Jesus leaned toward one or another of those categories, though someone smarter than I will have to write a dissertation on that. Because Jesus is the ideal and if we claim to be His follower, we must gradually but decidedly mirror his example. Now, there is the slightly complicating fact that he lived a perfectly sinless life. Yeah, insignificant, right? This means he is simultaneously the best and worst example. This complication does not affect my point which is that Jesus did not pass final judgment on people based on categories or labels. Instead, he recognized how his message matched their personality, thus not limiting himself to only those he would relate to easily.
A book like FLL is a great resource for doing some probing into our own psyches and diagnosing the reasons for some of our relational difficulties, but may it not be a tool for our selfishness or an excuse for us not engaging deeply with people who we don’t understand or know how to love. In fact, may it cause us not to acquire more friends to whom love may be easily communicated, but rather to overcome our personality so that our spheres of influence may include those whom are not exactly like us.
Monday, July 06, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
The gospel: down and dirty
Within Christianity, there exists a stigma that believers have it all together. Like a responsive reading, the stock answer from the lips of churchgoers when asked, “How are you doing?” is ‘good,’ ‘well’ (the snobbish grammarian’s answer) or some variation thereof. Showing up in our button down’s and slacks, dresses and high heels, we show up for worship on Sunday sitting among a score of the like-minded “fine”, “blessed,” and “great.”
Now don’t read me saying that dressing up for church is wrong or being pleasant and friendly to those with whom you worship is not a good thing. Being hospitable is very much at the heart of Christianity But it is to misunderstand gathering as a people and uniting heart and voice in worship if all we know about the people to our right and left is that they are fundamentally “good.” Indeed, it is to misunderstand more than that, even the nature of humanity itself.
However, as fake as we might feel giving highlights of our week to an interested friend it doesn’t compare to the fear of having our deepest sins revealed to those around us. We don’t mention the fear gripping us since our husband lost his job three months previous. We don’t let on that our children are infuriating us. No matter the guilt we experience from acting like a hypocrite, the look on our friends’ face when we open up about how lonely we feel because our boyfriend/girlfriend broke up with us and we are developing a dangerous addiction is far worse.
As big a barrier as this antiseptic version of Christianity is to community among believers, the greater issue is that it has colored the way we view Jesus himself. Could you imagine the man in these pictures in over-100 degree heat and no showers?
In the mind’s eye of too many Christians, our savior looks like a composed, unaffected Harlequin novel character. Indeed, greatest among Jesus’ miracles must have been that in the midst of dusty roads and pressing crowds, walking miles daily with indoor plumbing about a millennium and a half years from being invented that not a hair of his head ever appears out of place. Seriously, he is a walking Pantene Pro-V commercial. Attended by bright faced children and innocent white lambs, this is a nice Jesus, a fine Jesus, a great Jesus.
When did the doctrine of Jesus’ impeccability mutate into this caricature only worthy of posing for Polo? I don’t know, but it could not be further from the biblical picture. Jesus is not a keep your distance kind of guy. He is not a check my hair kind of guy. He’s not a shower in the morning and evening kind of guy. Jesus does not remain impervious to spiritual ugliness by keeping it at arm’s length. His message and the express intent of his incarnation is to confront sin. Confront sin in the leaders of the day. Expose sin in his own disciples. Embrace the sinners around him in very uncomfortable ways.
In Luke 9 when a sick woman is healed by touching Jesus’ garment, our Master’s response shows his complete disregard for the fact that if he deals with messy people, he is going to get a little messy himself. The poor woman suffers from a discharge of blood that in addition to being terribly embarrassing trapped her in a perpetual state of uncleanliness. According to Jewish law, a woman suffering from this was forced to stay outside the camp until the discharge ceased. Under no circumstances could she associate with people because by merely touching them she transferred her filthiness to them. A detail of the story is that she had spent her entire fortune on doctors who could not heal her and after years of isolation from community and her faith she was left impoverished and hopeless.
The reason for her secrecy is clear then. If she was jostling around in a big crowd and was ceremonially unclean she risked making some of her neighbors pretty peeved. So covertly, silently, clandestinely she merely touches the hem of the savior’s garment, and is HEALED! But unlike how she came, she will not leave under the cover of the jostling crowd. Jesus stops and turns and confronts her. Not for her messiness, or her deceit, but instead to affirm that she as a sick, broken, lonely person and was exactly right in coming and putting her faith in him.
The gospel is not get cleaned up and then if your shoes and belt match and you have just enough make up on (not too much now), you can enter God’s community. For the Righteous one, cleanliness is not next to godliness. In the messy exchange of the cross, Jesus proclaims that if you come as you are, your curse, your mess, your death will be his and his love and righteousness will be yours. Only by being exposed for who you are and relying on Christ to meet every one of your needs can you be freed from the tendency to hide. The one in whom there was no sin was banished outside the camp like a leper and crucified as a blasphemer so that we could stand before the throne of God, eat at His table, and enjoy true fellowship with Him and with each other. Only by our faith through His grace when our friend asks “how are you?” will the answer ever honestly be, “I am well.”
Now don’t read me saying that dressing up for church is wrong or being pleasant and friendly to those with whom you worship is not a good thing. Being hospitable is very much at the heart of Christianity But it is to misunderstand gathering as a people and uniting heart and voice in worship if all we know about the people to our right and left is that they are fundamentally “good.” Indeed, it is to misunderstand more than that, even the nature of humanity itself.
However, as fake as we might feel giving highlights of our week to an interested friend it doesn’t compare to the fear of having our deepest sins revealed to those around us. We don’t mention the fear gripping us since our husband lost his job three months previous. We don’t let on that our children are infuriating us. No matter the guilt we experience from acting like a hypocrite, the look on our friends’ face when we open up about how lonely we feel because our boyfriend/girlfriend broke up with us and we are developing a dangerous addiction is far worse.
As big a barrier as this antiseptic version of Christianity is to community among believers, the greater issue is that it has colored the way we view Jesus himself. Could you imagine the man in these pictures in over-100 degree heat and no showers?
In the mind’s eye of too many Christians, our savior looks like a composed, unaffected Harlequin novel character. Indeed, greatest among Jesus’ miracles must have been that in the midst of dusty roads and pressing crowds, walking miles daily with indoor plumbing about a millennium and a half years from being invented that not a hair of his head ever appears out of place. Seriously, he is a walking Pantene Pro-V commercial. Attended by bright faced children and innocent white lambs, this is a nice Jesus, a fine Jesus, a great Jesus.
When did the doctrine of Jesus’ impeccability mutate into this caricature only worthy of posing for Polo? I don’t know, but it could not be further from the biblical picture. Jesus is not a keep your distance kind of guy. He is not a check my hair kind of guy. He’s not a shower in the morning and evening kind of guy. Jesus does not remain impervious to spiritual ugliness by keeping it at arm’s length. His message and the express intent of his incarnation is to confront sin. Confront sin in the leaders of the day. Expose sin in his own disciples. Embrace the sinners around him in very uncomfortable ways.
In Luke 9 when a sick woman is healed by touching Jesus’ garment, our Master’s response shows his complete disregard for the fact that if he deals with messy people, he is going to get a little messy himself. The poor woman suffers from a discharge of blood that in addition to being terribly embarrassing trapped her in a perpetual state of uncleanliness. According to Jewish law, a woman suffering from this was forced to stay outside the camp until the discharge ceased. Under no circumstances could she associate with people because by merely touching them she transferred her filthiness to them. A detail of the story is that she had spent her entire fortune on doctors who could not heal her and after years of isolation from community and her faith she was left impoverished and hopeless.
The reason for her secrecy is clear then. If she was jostling around in a big crowd and was ceremonially unclean she risked making some of her neighbors pretty peeved. So covertly, silently, clandestinely she merely touches the hem of the savior’s garment, and is HEALED! But unlike how she came, she will not leave under the cover of the jostling crowd. Jesus stops and turns and confronts her. Not for her messiness, or her deceit, but instead to affirm that she as a sick, broken, lonely person and was exactly right in coming and putting her faith in him.
The gospel is not get cleaned up and then if your shoes and belt match and you have just enough make up on (not too much now), you can enter God’s community. For the Righteous one, cleanliness is not next to godliness. In the messy exchange of the cross, Jesus proclaims that if you come as you are, your curse, your mess, your death will be his and his love and righteousness will be yours. Only by being exposed for who you are and relying on Christ to meet every one of your needs can you be freed from the tendency to hide. The one in whom there was no sin was banished outside the camp like a leper and crucified as a blasphemer so that we could stand before the throne of God, eat at His table, and enjoy true fellowship with Him and with each other. Only by our faith through His grace when our friend asks “how are you?” will the answer ever honestly be, “I am well.”
Thursday, October 02, 2008
I need to watch this every morning, every hour, every...
I shamelessly draw redemptive analgogies from popular sources. I know they are not meant to say waht I believe they do, but all truth is God's truth for me, and whatever encourages me to worship God as He has made Himself known is a good thing.
The main impetus to the conflict in the story comes from Nemo feeling smothered by his well-meaning dad, Marlon. When Nemo is captured because he swims too close to the humans, Marlon sets out to do the seemingly impossible by finding and saving his son who is now the newest feature of the marauding, sadistic Aussie dentist's aquarium. Along the way toward "finding Nemo," Marlon learns an important lesson about giving his son room to grow, which will help him be a better father and a happier fish, according to the movie. Nemo also learns something important cooped up in his artificial aquatic prison, but, contrary to his father, its not about himself and how he should change, but instead about the length, breadth, height of his father's love
(Forgive me as I do not have the technical skill to cut this bigger scene from Finding Nemo to only the small snippet within it that is my favorite part in this exceptional movie. Feel free to watch the whole scene but the part I think is most important begins at 6:00 and ends at 8:00)
"That can't be my dad," Nemo bemoans.
I know Jesus loves me, and I believe God the Father loves me, but how easily my mind, being slowly pulled away from the cross, the central image of God's love to his people, I find myself doubting, and bemoaning like the crippled little clownfish, "He doesn't love me. He is not going to come get me. That can't be my Dad."
But oh when, even through common grace like the scene from Nemo, he shows me how much I mean to Him.
Nemo: That can't be my dad.
Pelican: Oh now what was his name...some kind of sport fish or something...Tuna?
N: marlon?
P: Yeah, that's the one.
N: Did you hear that guys? My dad fought a shark.
P: I heard it was THREE sharks.
As Nemo is overwhelmed by his dad's affection for him, he knows what to do. Anything. Anything to be with his dad again.
Like Nemo, when that love sears my heart, "I can do anything through Christ who strengthens me." Father, would you today bring the good news to me in the same way you brought it to Nemo that I may be lit afire, and, like the little fish with the bad fin, do what previously might have been impossible: to find Him again.
I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge-that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
Ephesians 3:18-19
The main impetus to the conflict in the story comes from Nemo feeling smothered by his well-meaning dad, Marlon. When Nemo is captured because he swims too close to the humans, Marlon sets out to do the seemingly impossible by finding and saving his son who is now the newest feature of the marauding, sadistic Aussie dentist's aquarium. Along the way toward "finding Nemo," Marlon learns an important lesson about giving his son room to grow, which will help him be a better father and a happier fish, according to the movie. Nemo also learns something important cooped up in his artificial aquatic prison, but, contrary to his father, its not about himself and how he should change, but instead about the length, breadth, height of his father's love
(Forgive me as I do not have the technical skill to cut this bigger scene from Finding Nemo to only the small snippet within it that is my favorite part in this exceptional movie. Feel free to watch the whole scene but the part I think is most important begins at 6:00 and ends at 8:00)
"That can't be my dad," Nemo bemoans.
I know Jesus loves me, and I believe God the Father loves me, but how easily my mind, being slowly pulled away from the cross, the central image of God's love to his people, I find myself doubting, and bemoaning like the crippled little clownfish, "He doesn't love me. He is not going to come get me. That can't be my Dad."
But oh when, even through common grace like the scene from Nemo, he shows me how much I mean to Him.
Nemo: That can't be my dad.
Pelican: Oh now what was his name...some kind of sport fish or something...Tuna?
N: marlon?
P: Yeah, that's the one.
N: Did you hear that guys? My dad fought a shark.
P: I heard it was THREE sharks.
As Nemo is overwhelmed by his dad's affection for him, he knows what to do. Anything. Anything to be with his dad again.
Like Nemo, when that love sears my heart, "I can do anything through Christ who strengthens me." Father, would you today bring the good news to me in the same way you brought it to Nemo that I may be lit afire, and, like the little fish with the bad fin, do what previously might have been impossible: to find Him again.
I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge-that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
Ephesians 3:18-19
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
I'm sorry Josh hamilton
Relevance is not optional in today's fast-moving, instantaneous update world. So another blog post on the Texas Rangers may be unwise considering they have not been challenging for a playoff spot since my last post in LATE-AUGUST. A wise old editor quipped, "They don't call 'em 'olds-papers'" However, I didn't think my lack of diligence should be Josh Hamilton's problem, and so I wanted to finish my review of his first year as a Ranger with a much needed apology.
Josh, I'm sorry for the way we (your fans) have treated you this year.
We couldn't help it, really. You started out so hot, and your story was so compelling and hopeful, how could we reign in our excitement. It was PERFECT. The accolades nationally, the redemption from addiction, the success you led the Rangers too. We weren't ready for you Josh, and as a result we did a very bad thing to you.
Addicts say they are never recovered. Every day is a battle and the path to recovery is a long one. Unable to speak intelligently about the biology and psychology of addicts, I can't refute or endorse that claim. I hope they recover. I believe people can change. I think you, Josh, have done so many wonderful things in preparation for success that I think you won't relapse. It shows a lot of maturity when you are making six figures to set a limit of cash you can have with you at any given moment. The mentor, Jerry Narron, traveling with you during the season, must be invaluable for stifling the urges you have and staying accountable. You're a great athlete. The Hambone, the Super-natural, Superman are your fan's favorite monikers for you. It would be easy to believe the press about yourself, and walking humbly while surrounded with the adulation you have earned this year must have been nearly impossible.
We can see the effects this roller coaster year has had too. Your stats in the second half aren't nearly what they were. You have lagged in almost every statistical category, and, unfortunately, the club's complementary demise only added to the pressure. But its not just your stats man. I'm not saying this happens all the time, but sometimes when the camera catches you in the dugout the fraying begins to show. With your shoulders slumping and your mouth slightly agape, the blankness of your stare belies more than the physical toil you have faced for the last six months since spring training. I can't help but fear the emotional toil of carrying so many people's expectations all year might be more difficult to bear.
Around the time your wife had your third child, there was an alarming report of you tearing into an overeager autograph seeker who was harrassing you as you made arrangements to get home and be with your wife for the special occasion. Josh, your reaction is understandable. Its actually very human, but you got lambasted in the press for being a hypocrite. Its true this incident was out of character. You sign more autographs and give more interviews than any of your teammates. You want to give hope to people struggling with addiction, and your perspective on this new life you have been given stands out in this world. That's why I am sorry, Josh. Somewhere along the way we missed it. In seeing how far you had come and watching how remarkably you played a very difficult game, we forgot who you are. We wanted you to be what we want to be. Perfection. Please forgive us.
Your Christian testimony only fuels this hero-worship. The church loves a good testimony. We want to see how powerful God is and we see that most clearly unfortunately when someone like you changes so drastically for good as a result of your faith in Jesus. Here's where we miss it, though. Even though God has done some unbelievable things in your life, you are not perfect. He's not finished with you. Just like he's not finished with any of us. So we still struggle, and like an addict, we are never completely recovered. Ay, there's the rub. When people we put on pedestals fall off them, the crash hurts, and I can't help but wonder if, as we see your human side, you don't worry about betraying us, disappointing us, frustrating us.
Josh, I wish I knew you. Selfishly, I would love to talk about baseball and the Home Run Derby, and how you have no intention to ever sign a contract with the Angels, the Red Sox, (shudder) the Yankees, or anyone else for that matter. Please Josh, seriously...
However, I also want to encourage you. You are not the one who has to live the perfect life for us. You don't have to "be all that we can be" for us, and your story is remarkable purely for the role God played in changing you and using you so obviously to proclaim his glory. Even the secular media has caught on to that as a famous sportswriter, talking about the HR derby, said, "Its a bad night to be an atheist."
Congratulations and thank you! Its been a joy to watch.
Josh, I'm sorry for the way we (your fans) have treated you this year.
We couldn't help it, really. You started out so hot, and your story was so compelling and hopeful, how could we reign in our excitement. It was PERFECT. The accolades nationally, the redemption from addiction, the success you led the Rangers too. We weren't ready for you Josh, and as a result we did a very bad thing to you.
Addicts say they are never recovered. Every day is a battle and the path to recovery is a long one. Unable to speak intelligently about the biology and psychology of addicts, I can't refute or endorse that claim. I hope they recover. I believe people can change. I think you, Josh, have done so many wonderful things in preparation for success that I think you won't relapse. It shows a lot of maturity when you are making six figures to set a limit of cash you can have with you at any given moment. The mentor, Jerry Narron, traveling with you during the season, must be invaluable for stifling the urges you have and staying accountable. You're a great athlete. The Hambone, the Super-natural, Superman are your fan's favorite monikers for you. It would be easy to believe the press about yourself, and walking humbly while surrounded with the adulation you have earned this year must have been nearly impossible.
We can see the effects this roller coaster year has had too. Your stats in the second half aren't nearly what they were. You have lagged in almost every statistical category, and, unfortunately, the club's complementary demise only added to the pressure. But its not just your stats man. I'm not saying this happens all the time, but sometimes when the camera catches you in the dugout the fraying begins to show. With your shoulders slumping and your mouth slightly agape, the blankness of your stare belies more than the physical toil you have faced for the last six months since spring training. I can't help but fear the emotional toil of carrying so many people's expectations all year might be more difficult to bear.
Around the time your wife had your third child, there was an alarming report of you tearing into an overeager autograph seeker who was harrassing you as you made arrangements to get home and be with your wife for the special occasion. Josh, your reaction is understandable. Its actually very human, but you got lambasted in the press for being a hypocrite. Its true this incident was out of character. You sign more autographs and give more interviews than any of your teammates. You want to give hope to people struggling with addiction, and your perspective on this new life you have been given stands out in this world. That's why I am sorry, Josh. Somewhere along the way we missed it. In seeing how far you had come and watching how remarkably you played a very difficult game, we forgot who you are. We wanted you to be what we want to be. Perfection. Please forgive us.
Your Christian testimony only fuels this hero-worship. The church loves a good testimony. We want to see how powerful God is and we see that most clearly unfortunately when someone like you changes so drastically for good as a result of your faith in Jesus. Here's where we miss it, though. Even though God has done some unbelievable things in your life, you are not perfect. He's not finished with you. Just like he's not finished with any of us. So we still struggle, and like an addict, we are never completely recovered. Ay, there's the rub. When people we put on pedestals fall off them, the crash hurts, and I can't help but wonder if, as we see your human side, you don't worry about betraying us, disappointing us, frustrating us.
Josh, I wish I knew you. Selfishly, I would love to talk about baseball and the Home Run Derby, and how you have no intention to ever sign a contract with the Angels, the Red Sox, (shudder) the Yankees, or anyone else for that matter. Please Josh, seriously...
However, I also want to encourage you. You are not the one who has to live the perfect life for us. You don't have to "be all that we can be" for us, and your story is remarkable purely for the role God played in changing you and using you so obviously to proclaim his glory. Even the secular media has caught on to that as a famous sportswriter, talking about the HR derby, said, "Its a bad night to be an atheist."
Congratulations and thank you! Its been a joy to watch.
Monday, August 25, 2008
The Super-Natural comes to New York
The Texas Rangers have had a lot of success at the All-Star game. The mid-season classic, an exhibition between the "best players" in the American and National leagues, has been the scene for some of the more compelling drama for this mediocre franchise. However, game winning hits (of which the Rangers have had two) or All-Star MVPs (three) seem like distant memories after the display during the home run derby by Josh Hamilton.
The home run derby pits four sluggers from each league and boils down to glorified batting practice, in which fans "ooh" and "aah" over their favorite home run hitters passing out souvenirs beyond the outfield wall. ESPN covers the home run derby. This is bad for anyone who doesn't like the Yankees, Red Sox, or Cubs. The "four-letter" network has digressed into more of an entertainment(E) show than a sports(S) one. Too often are they mired in the pomp and fluff that has come to mark TV news, and they seem more interested in controversy than covering sports.
When the Josh Hamilton express came to town (NYC), there was no need for any fluff. He knocked the fluff where it belonged...the cheap seats. Sports transcends because it presents the opportunity for full human potential to be displayed. The poor sportsmanship, the money, the resentment among fan bases, indeed, show its potential for harm too, but once in a while those things are obscured by unadulterated greatness. That wonderful July night, the world got to see, many for the first time, what most of Ranger nation had been so excited about all year. The story lines did not need elaboration this time, because Hamilton's dreams were about to come true.
Josh Hamilton brings his own pitching machine
Clay Council has thrown thousands of rounds of batting practice to boys coming through his American Legion Youth baseball teams. Josh Hamilton came through his squad in high school, and as a token of appreciation, asked Coach Council to lob meatballs up to him in Yankees Stadium in front of 30000+ fans. I am not naive. Fame has changed Josh Hamilton. It would change any of us, but that he remembers the people who in, even seemingly insignificant ways, have helped him succeed, speaks volumes of his perspective.
Josh didn't even win the HR derby
In the final round Justin Morneau outslugged Josh to take home the trophy, but to everyone there and watching on TV, it didn't matter, because in his first round from the final position, Josh clubbed TWENTY-EIGHT home runs. To put that in perspective, he hit more home runs in the that round, which includes 10 outs (an out is any ball swung at that is not a home run), than the previous four competitors hit altogether in forty outs. Josh started out slow. After 8 outs, he only had 13 homers, but with the eulogy of Yankees stadium (good riddance) as the backdrop and the greatest ballplayers in the game seated on the grass in front of each of the dugouts, Josh heated up. He went from 13 homers, already sufficient to take the lead in the competition to 28 before recording his tenth out. He even hit a dozen out between his eighth and ninth out. Again, that is twelve home runs before hitting another ball that was not a home run. Incredible.
Welcome back, Josh
When he was drafted out of high school by the Tampa Bay (Devil) Rays, he was proclaimed as a Ken Griffey Jr. starting kit. Predicted to have a Hall of Fame caliber career, people would not have been surprised to see the herculean center fielder dominate the home run derby. What is amazing is the path he has taken to get here. All of you know the story by now I hope, but suffice it to say, his journey back to baseball stands as the most compelling celebrity redemption epic I have ever heard. Others have come back to baseball from different struggles. Guys have survived huge injuries, even serious sickness, but not downplaying those in the least, I believe Hamilton's "There and Back Again" trumps them all. Josh's wife, Katie, stuck by him through the darkest moments of his addiction and remains his strongest supporter on his road to recovery. Her insight is compelling.
God told me he was going to give Josh baseball back, but it wasn't going to be for baseball. It was going to be for something much bigger. He was going to give Josh a platform to help others. He is the most beautiful choreographer. It's not by accident that all the things that have happened in our lives have happened.
Josh is a lucky guy...blessed, I mean, whatever.
"Why I'm here"
Josh claims when he was beginning his road back to sobriety and before he had seriously considered if returning to baseball was a possibility, he had a dream. In this dream, he claims he is standing with a female reporter in Yankee stadium after finishing a round at the home run derby. She asks him, "How did you get here? How did you do it?" Josh said he's been contemplating the answer to that question for the three years it took him to get to Yankees stadium at the Home Run Derby and have Erin Andrews ask him after the twenty eighth homer, "how did you do it?"
Josh's prowess as a ballplayer causes thousands of fans to gravitate toward him. His talent and accolades between the lines inspires awe and wonder like a god on Mt. Olympus. However, gods on far away mountains can be worshipped and lauded, but they cannot be related to. Josh's testimony of God's grace changing his life and giving him back his future, which he did everything to throw away, means that more than appreciating him for his physical gifts, thousands of people can be inspired to consider what God is capable of doing, because of what he has done already. God is a "wonderful choreographer," and he knew we could only understand and be changed by someone who became like us in every way. Joshua is an appropriate name for "The Super-Natural," because its shared by the one willingly humbled himself who came to die for sinners so we could know the transforming grace evident in Hamilton and all those who claim Jesus (Jeshua) as their Lord and Savior.
Josh says in the dream he doesn't know how many home runs he had hit before the reporter asks him the crucial question. If someone told him it was 28, I think he would have said it was physically impossible. Physically impossible? Yeah, I agree with that. Hmm, how wonderful.
The home run derby pits four sluggers from each league and boils down to glorified batting practice, in which fans "ooh" and "aah" over their favorite home run hitters passing out souvenirs beyond the outfield wall. ESPN covers the home run derby. This is bad for anyone who doesn't like the Yankees, Red Sox, or Cubs. The "four-letter" network has digressed into more of an entertainment(E) show than a sports(S) one. Too often are they mired in the pomp and fluff that has come to mark TV news, and they seem more interested in controversy than covering sports.
When the Josh Hamilton express came to town (NYC), there was no need for any fluff. He knocked the fluff where it belonged...the cheap seats. Sports transcends because it presents the opportunity for full human potential to be displayed. The poor sportsmanship, the money, the resentment among fan bases, indeed, show its potential for harm too, but once in a while those things are obscured by unadulterated greatness. That wonderful July night, the world got to see, many for the first time, what most of Ranger nation had been so excited about all year. The story lines did not need elaboration this time, because Hamilton's dreams were about to come true.
Josh Hamilton brings his own pitching machine
Clay Council has thrown thousands of rounds of batting practice to boys coming through his American Legion Youth baseball teams. Josh Hamilton came through his squad in high school, and as a token of appreciation, asked Coach Council to lob meatballs up to him in Yankees Stadium in front of 30000+ fans. I am not naive. Fame has changed Josh Hamilton. It would change any of us, but that he remembers the people who in, even seemingly insignificant ways, have helped him succeed, speaks volumes of his perspective.
Josh didn't even win the HR derby
In the final round Justin Morneau outslugged Josh to take home the trophy, but to everyone there and watching on TV, it didn't matter, because in his first round from the final position, Josh clubbed TWENTY-EIGHT home runs. To put that in perspective, he hit more home runs in the that round, which includes 10 outs (an out is any ball swung at that is not a home run), than the previous four competitors hit altogether in forty outs. Josh started out slow. After 8 outs, he only had 13 homers, but with the eulogy of Yankees stadium (good riddance) as the backdrop and the greatest ballplayers in the game seated on the grass in front of each of the dugouts, Josh heated up. He went from 13 homers, already sufficient to take the lead in the competition to 28 before recording his tenth out. He even hit a dozen out between his eighth and ninth out. Again, that is twelve home runs before hitting another ball that was not a home run. Incredible.
Welcome back, Josh
When he was drafted out of high school by the Tampa Bay (Devil) Rays, he was proclaimed as a Ken Griffey Jr. starting kit. Predicted to have a Hall of Fame caliber career, people would not have been surprised to see the herculean center fielder dominate the home run derby. What is amazing is the path he has taken to get here. All of you know the story by now I hope, but suffice it to say, his journey back to baseball stands as the most compelling celebrity redemption epic I have ever heard. Others have come back to baseball from different struggles. Guys have survived huge injuries, even serious sickness, but not downplaying those in the least, I believe Hamilton's "There and Back Again" trumps them all. Josh's wife, Katie, stuck by him through the darkest moments of his addiction and remains his strongest supporter on his road to recovery. Her insight is compelling.
God told me he was going to give Josh baseball back, but it wasn't going to be for baseball. It was going to be for something much bigger. He was going to give Josh a platform to help others. He is the most beautiful choreographer. It's not by accident that all the things that have happened in our lives have happened.
Josh is a lucky guy...blessed, I mean, whatever.
"Why I'm here"
Josh claims when he was beginning his road back to sobriety and before he had seriously considered if returning to baseball was a possibility, he had a dream. In this dream, he claims he is standing with a female reporter in Yankee stadium after finishing a round at the home run derby. She asks him, "How did you get here? How did you do it?" Josh said he's been contemplating the answer to that question for the three years it took him to get to Yankees stadium at the Home Run Derby and have Erin Andrews ask him after the twenty eighth homer, "how did you do it?"
Josh's prowess as a ballplayer causes thousands of fans to gravitate toward him. His talent and accolades between the lines inspires awe and wonder like a god on Mt. Olympus. However, gods on far away mountains can be worshipped and lauded, but they cannot be related to. Josh's testimony of God's grace changing his life and giving him back his future, which he did everything to throw away, means that more than appreciating him for his physical gifts, thousands of people can be inspired to consider what God is capable of doing, because of what he has done already. God is a "wonderful choreographer," and he knew we could only understand and be changed by someone who became like us in every way. Joshua is an appropriate name for "The Super-Natural," because its shared by the one willingly humbled himself who came to die for sinners so we could know the transforming grace evident in Hamilton and all those who claim Jesus (Jeshua) as their Lord and Savior.
Josh says in the dream he doesn't know how many home runs he had hit before the reporter asks him the crucial question. If someone told him it was 28, I think he would have said it was physically impossible. Physically impossible? Yeah, I agree with that. Hmm, how wonderful.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Josh Hamilton: The Super-Natural
The Texas Rangers are an unsuccessful franchise. Though their infamy does not stretch to the proportions of the Chicago Cubs, who have not won the World Series in a hundred years, D/FW's boys of summer have trudged out more mediocrity than internet bloggers. (Note: The author includes himself in that category) For thirty plus years, the Rangers have won only two division championships and have never advanced to the World Series. In fact, they have yet to win a playoff series of any kind.
As a result of the perpetual procession of suck, it doesn't require much for Rangers fans to get excited. Josh Hamilton was an off season acquisition with a checkered past and boatload of unrealized talent. To call his story inspirational is equivalent to summarizing this franchises' last three decades of baseball as a slump. Redeemed from a frightening addiction to drugs and booze through a loving community and a recommitment to faith in Jesus, he has turned a life that was careening out of control into a testimony that could include one of the most impressive single seasons in Rangers history. If you're not familiar with his story, I can't encourage you too strongly to read a couple of articles which have surfaced in the last two years since his reinstatement to baseball.
A summary of Josh's story by Rangers beat writer, Evan Grant
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/spt/stories/012708dnspowebrangersz.218a1b6.html
A personal testimony by Josh of God's hand in his life
http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=2926447
Keep in mind that both of these stories were published before this season began. In which, Josh has made as compelling a story to be named "Sportsman of the Year" as anyone not named Michael Phelps. The baseball writers across the country award "Player of the Month" honors to the most valuable player in each league for a particular month.
Josh's torrid start in the first month of the season earned him the accolade for the American League as he topped virtually every statistical category in April. His fans, which seemed to increase with each new city he visited, enjoyed an offensive display that would have been the highlight of many Hall of Famers' career, let alone a second year player who was facing most of the league's pitchers for the first time. The problem is that most of his supporters, even die-hard Ranger fans, don't give that month its due praise. Because in May, he was BETTER! Not in the history of the "Player of the Month" award in the American League had someone won it in both April and May. The award was first presented in 1974.
Needless to say, "Josh-fever" has hit the metroplex in a big way. Homemade signs from the Ballpark in Arlington read "Hamilton is my homeboy" or ""Superman wears Josh Hamilton." In fact, with his 95 RBIs before the All-Star Break, Hamilton has established himself as the heart of a Rangers nine that statistically ranks among the best in the league offensively. Honestly, "Superman's" most difficult task this summer is how to stay humble while standing in an ever brightening spotlight.
Yet the reports from across baseball say he has handled the whole experience unbelievably well. Swarmed by autograph seekers, Josh is usually the last Ranger, sometimes the only one, signing outside the clubhouse before and after games. At every stop, people ask him the same questions and detractors hurl the same insults, but Hamilton's humble demeanor has remained as fixed as his message: without Jesus, he would probably be dead.
Josh Hamilton is my favorite baseball player ever, and I have only been following him for two years. This past winter, when I heard the announcement of his trade to the Rangers, I was excited and nervous for him and my team. The Rangers paid dearly for their MVP-caliber center fielder, as they sent one of their best young pitchers to the Cincinnati Reds in the exchange. The sports commentators, not known for their graciousness or their faith in humanity or God, voiced strong concern over the deal, and I knew that the trade's potential to blow up in the Rangers face was very strong. If Josh relapsed, he would be banned from baseball, maybe, permanently, and no one knew if the toil from the addiction was so much that he would not be able to hold up physically as the season wore on. However, I believed in Josh's testimony of redemption (the story he wrote for ESPN came out when he was with the Reds). Additionally, if it turned out he combined his great story with the talent he possesses in spades, he will go down as the most beloved Ranger in the history of the franchise, no matter how bleak that has been. I am an optimist when it comes to God working, and so disagreeing with the talking heads from the radio, I believed Hamilton would live up to the promise.
Understatement of the year: He met my expectations.
Next blog post: The night I felt most proud to be a Ranger this year.
As a result of the perpetual procession of suck, it doesn't require much for Rangers fans to get excited. Josh Hamilton was an off season acquisition with a checkered past and boatload of unrealized talent. To call his story inspirational is equivalent to summarizing this franchises' last three decades of baseball as a slump. Redeemed from a frightening addiction to drugs and booze through a loving community and a recommitment to faith in Jesus, he has turned a life that was careening out of control into a testimony that could include one of the most impressive single seasons in Rangers history. If you're not familiar with his story, I can't encourage you too strongly to read a couple of articles which have surfaced in the last two years since his reinstatement to baseball.
A summary of Josh's story by Rangers beat writer, Evan Grant
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/spt/stories/012708dnspowebrangersz.218a1b6.html
A personal testimony by Josh of God's hand in his life
http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=2926447
Keep in mind that both of these stories were published before this season began. In which, Josh has made as compelling a story to be named "Sportsman of the Year" as anyone not named Michael Phelps. The baseball writers across the country award "Player of the Month" honors to the most valuable player in each league for a particular month.
Josh's torrid start in the first month of the season earned him the accolade for the American League as he topped virtually every statistical category in April. His fans, which seemed to increase with each new city he visited, enjoyed an offensive display that would have been the highlight of many Hall of Famers' career, let alone a second year player who was facing most of the league's pitchers for the first time. The problem is that most of his supporters, even die-hard Ranger fans, don't give that month its due praise. Because in May, he was BETTER! Not in the history of the "Player of the Month" award in the American League had someone won it in both April and May. The award was first presented in 1974.
Needless to say, "Josh-fever" has hit the metroplex in a big way. Homemade signs from the Ballpark in Arlington read "Hamilton is my homeboy" or ""Superman wears Josh Hamilton." In fact, with his 95 RBIs before the All-Star Break, Hamilton has established himself as the heart of a Rangers nine that statistically ranks among the best in the league offensively. Honestly, "Superman's" most difficult task this summer is how to stay humble while standing in an ever brightening spotlight.
Yet the reports from across baseball say he has handled the whole experience unbelievably well. Swarmed by autograph seekers, Josh is usually the last Ranger, sometimes the only one, signing outside the clubhouse before and after games. At every stop, people ask him the same questions and detractors hurl the same insults, but Hamilton's humble demeanor has remained as fixed as his message: without Jesus, he would probably be dead.
Josh Hamilton is my favorite baseball player ever, and I have only been following him for two years. This past winter, when I heard the announcement of his trade to the Rangers, I was excited and nervous for him and my team. The Rangers paid dearly for their MVP-caliber center fielder, as they sent one of their best young pitchers to the Cincinnati Reds in the exchange. The sports commentators, not known for their graciousness or their faith in humanity or God, voiced strong concern over the deal, and I knew that the trade's potential to blow up in the Rangers face was very strong. If Josh relapsed, he would be banned from baseball, maybe, permanently, and no one knew if the toil from the addiction was so much that he would not be able to hold up physically as the season wore on. However, I believed in Josh's testimony of redemption (the story he wrote for ESPN came out when he was with the Reds). Additionally, if it turned out he combined his great story with the talent he possesses in spades, he will go down as the most beloved Ranger in the history of the franchise, no matter how bleak that has been. I am an optimist when it comes to God working, and so disagreeing with the talking heads from the radio, I believed Hamilton would live up to the promise.
Understatement of the year: He met my expectations.
Next blog post: The night I felt most proud to be a Ranger this year.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
New look, New year, same old?
In Fort Worth, the summer showers got backlogged and decided to atone for their two month long absence in a week. Everything's greener and fuller though. It almost has the feeling of the beginning of spring. What do Texans know about spring, you ask? Well, I did say "almost." Many things look like spring looking out the window of an air-conditioned study. Anyway, the new life springing up all around me has inspired me to regenerate this blog, and so with a new look, new attitude, and, hopefully, new resolution, I embark.
If you remember last year, the Texas summer was marked by uncharacteristic rainfall. The last week of almost constant precipitation takes me back. In '07, I was working with a high school friend to get a pecan orchard started. Behind my parents' house over about 3-5 acres lay an aged, peach orchard that had been abandoned by the previous owners. Building the fence, laying irrigation, and finally planting pecan saplings met with constant interruption from the incremental weather, and the proposed 2 month project swelled to a 6 month ordeal during which working more than 3 days out of 5 was rare. Deja vu during this last week has led me to some self-reflection about what in my life, if anything, is different now than then.
After that frustrating summer, any change seemed good, and a year's worth of working as a sales associate in a kitchenware/interiors retail store put that theory to a true test. I don't regret moving to D/FW from my childhood home, Fredericksburg. Rekindling old friendships, making a niche for myself, even if it had to be at Crate and Barrel, has been a huge boon for me. (And the best things resulting from it have not become apparent yet, I am confident). However, positing that its all happened according to plan...well, ugghh....no.
Ironically, life lived, similar to the weather, often puts a kink in our plans. What do they say? If you want to give God a good laugh, tell him your plans. Disappointments from work, home, in love, and withering prospects lead to some overcast and dreary days, regardless of the forecast. The cliche goes, "into everyone's life some rain must fall." I used to think that was said to give solace. "Everyone's life is tough from time to time. You just have to grin and bear it." I don't know any more. I think it should be understood expectantly instead.
Our cirucmstances can leave us drenched and soggy, desperate for a little blue sky, but as the thriving lawns in my neighborhood suggest. The rain's ultimate effect is life-giving, and when the sun breaks through, as its doing right now, the flowers' brilliance will make my future hope a reality. Like April's showers leading May's flowers, the blessings in life don't only make the sorrows worth bearing. They come as a result of the suffering having its full affect.
Question of the Day: What should the new name of my blog be?
If you remember last year, the Texas summer was marked by uncharacteristic rainfall. The last week of almost constant precipitation takes me back. In '07, I was working with a high school friend to get a pecan orchard started. Behind my parents' house over about 3-5 acres lay an aged, peach orchard that had been abandoned by the previous owners. Building the fence, laying irrigation, and finally planting pecan saplings met with constant interruption from the incremental weather, and the proposed 2 month project swelled to a 6 month ordeal during which working more than 3 days out of 5 was rare. Deja vu during this last week has led me to some self-reflection about what in my life, if anything, is different now than then.
After that frustrating summer, any change seemed good, and a year's worth of working as a sales associate in a kitchenware/interiors retail store put that theory to a true test. I don't regret moving to D/FW from my childhood home, Fredericksburg. Rekindling old friendships, making a niche for myself, even if it had to be at Crate and Barrel, has been a huge boon for me. (And the best things resulting from it have not become apparent yet, I am confident). However, positing that its all happened according to plan...well, ugghh....no.
Ironically, life lived, similar to the weather, often puts a kink in our plans. What do they say? If you want to give God a good laugh, tell him your plans. Disappointments from work, home, in love, and withering prospects lead to some overcast and dreary days, regardless of the forecast. The cliche goes, "into everyone's life some rain must fall." I used to think that was said to give solace. "Everyone's life is tough from time to time. You just have to grin and bear it." I don't know any more. I think it should be understood expectantly instead.
Our cirucmstances can leave us drenched and soggy, desperate for a little blue sky, but as the thriving lawns in my neighborhood suggest. The rain's ultimate effect is life-giving, and when the sun breaks through, as its doing right now, the flowers' brilliance will make my future hope a reality. Like April's showers leading May's flowers, the blessings in life don't only make the sorrows worth bearing. They come as a result of the suffering having its full affect.
Question of the Day: What should the new name of my blog be?
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