Righteous Reffing

I've always loved sports. It's not because I'm good at them or because I'm trying to relive the glory days of the past or earn my dad's approval (you know guys who love sports for all those reasons). I just like to play. It's fun to compete, to get out there, to meet a challenge.

I also think there are important lessons to learn from sport: integrity, hard work, fair play, discipline, teamwork, confidence, the ability to contend with someone else and still respect them.

I like to watch sports as well as play them. I'm loyal to a few teams and I cheer for them regularly. It's not an obsession or a source of my self-worth (again, you know guys) but it's a healthy diversion. Like Downton Abbey with a scoreboard.

But I can no longer deny that our sports are changing. This weekend, we witnessed further evidence that sports armageddon is nigh. If you haven't read, watched or heard the voices screaming about poor officiating that cost the Green Bay Packers a game on Monday Night Football, then you can catch up here. What bothered me was not the botched call. I've seen officiating even worse than that. If pressed, I could even defend the call to an extent. What bothered me was the lack of perspective and integrity this episode revealed.

Let's start with integrity. I stayed up after the game to watch some of the coverage and it was amazing to me that none of the journalists who commented on this story blamed the receiver in question, Golden Tate, for cheating. Their outrage was aimed at the refs for not catching Tate cheating. There's an assumption here that players will use any means necessary, including cheating, to win. It's up to the referees to ensure fair play, not the consciences of the players.

After the game, there were interviews with both Tate and his coach Pete Carroll. Both were giddy. Neither seemed concerned about winning with an unfair advantage. The reporter asked about the play call, about the referees, but almost nothing asked about cheating. At one point, she did ask Tate, "Did you push off?" meaning, "Did you illegally interfere with your opponent's play?" But everyone watching knew Tate pushed off. We saw it replayed 48 times. Asking him if he cheated was like asking him if he was wearing a uniform. We could all see his uniform. We could all see him cheat. But as remarkable as the questioning was, Tate's answer was even more disturbing. Early in the interview, Tate said, "I play for God first and then for my teammates." I appreciate my brother giving glory to God for his gifts and blessings, but just seconds later when the reporter asked him if he cheated, he said, "I don't know what you're talking about." The message was apparently, "I'm a Christian, and I'm a cheat. I cheat for Jesus!"

Since the game, every SportsCenter, every newspaper article, every commentator with a microphone has decried the poor officiating and demanded improvement. No one has decried the lack of integrity on the part of the players and coach. No one has dared suggest that Golden Tate should have raised his hand in confession of the foul, or that Pete Carroll should have forfeited the win. What we need, they say, is better policing of the cheaters, not fewer cheaters.

The reason that cheating is expected, of course, is that so much is at stake. It's one thing to cheat in your neighborhood sandlot game. It's another when million-dollar contracts and billion-dollar tax-subsidized stadium deals are on the line. Or at least that's how the argument goes. But that argument reveals a lack of perspective on two levels.

First, we have let our recreational pursuits grow into behemoth business engines that affect whole state and national economies. This says so much about us — our addictive national personality, our celebrity culture, our ignorance of deeper truths and simple pleasures. Maybe the passing of Steve Sabol last week should send us a reminder about days when football players had second jobs. I know it's fantasy. I know it's "Good Old Days Syndrome", but let's consider it.

Secondly, so what if it's costly? Isn't that the point of integrity? If I understand the argument correctly, the idea is that people can't be expected to play fair when the stakes are high. Is that the lesson we want sports to teach?

What if Golden Tate had admitted to cheating in that post-game interview and said, "I don't think this win should count. I didn't really have possession of that ball. Just because the refs didn't see it doesn't mean it didn't happen."

You know what would happen to Tate? He would be ridiculed. He might lose his job. He would certainly be reprimanded by his coach and front office personnel. After all, money is at stake!

But he would also be a leader. Maybe that's exactly what the NFL, NBA and MLB need: someone who is willing to be foolish and honest rather than crooked and rich.

And that's the crux of this problem: values. In the world of professional sports, there are two values: winning and money. Everything else is subjected to those values. Among the barrage of interview, commentaries, columns, rants and reports related to Monday night's game, no one, not a single person associated with the NFL or any news organization, has said or written the four words that my parents taught me about keeping sports in perspective:

It's just a game.

Of God, Freedom and Community

I spoke to a group of people this week about freedom. Freedom is an inevitable ingredient in healthy community. When we are free to be who we really are, we are open to be loved deeply. The opposite is true too. If we are not free to be authentic, our relationships are restricted; as is our growth.

This morning I read this about freedom from one of my favorite authors, Thomas Merton:

As long as you pretend to live in pure autonomy, as your own master, without even a god to rule you, you will inevitably live as the servant of another man or as the alienated member of an organization. Paradoxically, it is the acceptance of God that makes you free and delivers you from human tyranny, for when you serve him you are no longer permitted to alienate your spirit in human servitude. God did not invite the children of Israel to leave the slavery of Egypt. He commanded them to do so. 

Merton is affirming that when we seek autonomy, we seek separation from our kind. To seek autonomy is to seek to be God for only God is entirely self-sufficient. And because that is true, he is holy, set-apart, different not only in degree but in kind. Jesus was not the best of our human kind; he was an entirely different kind. There can only be one God. When we seek to be him, we leave no room for others of our kind.

Autonomy leads assuredly to isolation. Isolation leads in turn to idolatry, pride, and slavery. The end of all these is destruction as our enemy designs. All of these work in opposition to mutual submission, community, obedience, humility and freedom.

If we wish to be free, we must submit to one another. If we wish to be God, we should seek isolation and independence.

Better Relationships Through Note Taking

My wife Christine is the pastor of our cul-de-sac. Yesterday, one of our neighbors brought her a potted plant as a thank-you for kind things Christine has done for their family. The last time we had a block party, another of our neighbors told me, "Christine is the only one on the block who knows everyone's name." If there is a party to organize, if someone is looking for their kids, or if anyone has a question about the next National Night Out, Christine is the go-to resource.

She has earned that position by taking notes.

Christine takes note of people — literally. Any time she visits with a neighbor in the front yard, or attends a birthday party for a neighbor kid, she comes home and scribbles notes about what she learned.

• Neighbor A has a sister in the hospital. 
• Neighbor B is from Bangladesh. 
• Neighbor C is worried about another round of layoffs. 

I think if you gathered up all the scrap paper in our house, you could piece together the family trees of everyone on our block.

Is that creepy? Maybe a little. Maybe instead of the pastor of our street, I should say she's the stalker on our street. But it's also terribly effective. Our neighbors can't believe how thoughtful she is when she asks about an ailing family member they mentioned to her three months ago. It shows a level of caring and selflessness they aren't used to.

I'm not as good a stalker / pastor as Christine, but I've started trying. Years ago when we joined our small group, I sat down to write everything I knew about the guys in the group — favorite sports, musical tastes, how many siblings they have, age, career, hobbies, whatever. I was able to fill about one page per guy.

Last month, as part of small group leader training for our church's Men's Ministry, I encouraged table leaders to do the same: after the first week, write everything they know about each guy at their table, and then make it a goal to double that knowledge by the end of the semester. If they could fill one page the first week, surely they could listen to their brothers enough to fill two pages 10 weeks later.

One of my pastor friends likes to talk about "pastoring a personal parish." Your church's "parish" is defined by geography — neighborhoods and cities around its building. But your personal parish is defined by relationships — a family member out of state, a parent on your kid's soccer team, a coworker in the Beijing office. As our world continues to grow beyond physical boundaries, our personal ministries do too.

On Saturday, I was sitting next to Christine in some bleachers watching our six-year-old play in his second baseball game with a new team, when I noticed she was typing something into her phone. She was taking notes again. As each boy approached the plate for his at-bat, Christine was listening to his parents' cheers and taking note of his name and number. Our team has two coaches and I guarantee they don't know all the boys' names. But Christine does. She's pastoring from the bleachers — adopting these boys and their parents into her personal parish.

Will those relationships ever lead to spiritual conversations? Knowing Christine, probably so. But even if they don't, she has loved them well. She has been a thoughtful ambassador for Jesus. She has cultivated deeper relationships. Maybe the rest of us should take note.