Our Peaks and Valleys

In a recent column sportswriter Jack Epstein noted that the defending Super Bowl Champion Seattle Seahawks are having a less-than-stellar season as they try to defend their title; they are not the dominant team they were last year. Epstein writes:

“And it has nothing to do with the Seattle Seahawks. It is simply the fact that in the NFL, more so than in other leagues, it is too difficult to defend a championship. There has not been a repeat winner since the 2003-2004 Patriots, and the 2005 Patriots are the last defending champion to even win a playoff game. In fact, since 2005, four defending champs have missed the playoffs outright the next season.”

He suggests a number of factors, but my purpose is to relate it to a reality of Christian life: a mountaintop experience is eventually followed by decent into a valley. A story from Scripture illustrates this reality well: the Transfiguration in Luke 9:28-36.

“As [Moses and Elijah] were about to depart from [Jesus], Peter said, ‘Master, it is good that we are here; let us make three tents, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ But he did not know what he was saying.” (Luke 9: 33) Peter is caught up in the glory and the grandeur of this incredible moment, and understandably so. Jesus’ face changes appearance, his clothes become dazzling white, and he is conversing with Moses and Elijah, in proclamation that Jesus is the fulfillment of the law and the prophets. It is now time for the moment to end, but Peter wants to cling to it. His suggestion to build tents is noble, but this glorious moment must end. Jesus and the disciples need to return to “the grind” of their daily life.

The life of an athlete is somewhat like this. There are peaks and there are valleys. The peaks are so glorious that the temptation to cling to them is strong. But the work must carry on. Moments after winning the 2002 World Series, unabashed joy exuded in the Anaheim Angels’ clubhouse as the team celebrated its first championship. Yet while most of the team celebrated, one player was reported to be alone at his locker, a solemn look on his face. When asked what was wrong, he responded that now the hard part would begin. Now that the Angels were the champions, everyone would be after them the next season. The realization quickly set in that defending a championship is more difficult than winning one. The peak would soon become a necessary valley, and he must not cling to it.

As Christians we visit Mt. Tabor, but we also visit Calvary. Both are very sacred places to be.

Mary: The Ultimate Example of "Coachability"

"Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end." (Luke 1:30-33)

The angel Gabriel delivers God’s message to Mary, and it seems to make little sense. “She was greatly troubled at what was said.... How can this be?” (Luke 1: 29, 34) Mary then listens to Gabriel’s explanation of God’s will for her and humbly submits, though she does not yet understand everything. “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” (Luke 1: 38)

Athletes must submit to the authority of coaches and officials, though they may not always understand their decisions. For Christian athletes this serves as a reminder that we are called to submit to the authority of God. Even if the game plan seems troubling and confusing, and we might prefer a different strategy, God truly knows what is best for us, for he knows us better than we know ourselves. God sees the whole picture of how each member of his team fits into the entire plan. May our response as athletes and as disciples echo Mary’s answer: “Let it be done to me according to your word.”

A Broader Look at Sports Injuries

I recently came across this interesting piece from the National Athletic Trainers’ Association:

When athletes are injured, they experience not only physical loss, but psychological loss as well. Injured athletes often experience anxiety about returning to play, which can affect safety and athletic performance. They not only need to be physically prepared to return to sport after injury, but they also must be psychologically ready, too. According to a new study published in the Journal of Athletic Training, the scientific publication of the National Athletic Trainers’ Association, returning athletes to the playing field before they are fully psychologically prepared can lead to fear, anxiety, re-injury, injury to other body parts, depression, and decreased performance.

This is a great reminder of the unity of body, mind and spirit, that an athlete is a whole person that must have all of these needs ministered to.

Why Was Jesus Hooked on Fishermen?

When it comes to using rods, reels, live bait and tackle, I’m like a fish out of water.

I’ve never been much of a fisherman, nor have I ever desired to become one. Getting a fish on the line and reeling it in is exciting; it’s that nasty business of what to do with it once it’s hanging on the line, a hook in its mouth (or other unpleasant place), staring at me with those, well, fish eyes, that has never led me to embrace the sport.

My sons, however, somehow became enthralled with fishing, leading me to participate in the last few years more than I ever have. (They laugh at me because I still wear a glove to hold a fish to remove the hook.)  My attempts to fish have led me to contemplate what Jesus saw in people who did this for a living.

When Jesus was recruiting apostles I would have written a want-ad for him with a different vision. There was a logical talent pool I would have drawn from that he bypassed.

Jesus was looking for people to do two primary things: teach and heal. There were experienced teachers he could have chosen, men already learned in Hebrew Scriptures and tradition, who could apply their knowledge and skills. There were physicians who were trained in the medical science of the day, with credentials as healers.

But Jesus bypassed both of those groups, turning instead to fishermen as the prime candidates. What is it about fishermen that made them so qualified to become apostles?

First of all, it takes a lot of patience to succeed at fishing. To be willing to spend several hours at an activity with no guarantee of success requires someone with dedication to a vision and a purpose, and a passion to be fully engaged despite potential disappointment.

When successful, a fisherman (at least a modern-day one) then deals with a live creature who has been hooked by something dangerous, having been deceived by a lure that looked palatable but proved to be deadly. Pulled by this hook out of its natural and environment the fish needs someone to liberate it.

A fisherman needs to hold the fish with a firm and steady hand, no matter how much it may squirm. Sometimes the hook is embedded not in the mouth but deeper inside, requiring the fisherman to work in that innermost space which is at the least unpleasant and at most disgusting. To patiently look inside a creature’s innermost being and carefully free it from the hurt they have fallen for takes a special quality—exactly what Jesus needed in his “fishers of men.”

Today, say a prayer for all who work in any way to free God’s people from the hooks that ensnare them. May they be blessed with both firmness and gentleness as they minister to the hurting members of the Body of Christ. Pray also for those who are hooked by something and are in search of caring hands to free them. Finally, pray for “the ones that got away” from the fishers of men looking to bring them to their Savior.

May the doors to each of our hearts bear a sign that says: “Gone fishin’.”

Temples of the Spirit

Do you not know that your body is a temple of the holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you have been purchased at a price. Therefore glorify God in your body. (1 Corinthians 6:19-20)

The body as a temple of the Spirit is a rich image, and through the centuries has been illustrated in many different ways. One example is this bit of wisdom from St. Caesarius of Arles, included in the Office of Readings for yesterday’s Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica:

Whenever we come to church, we must prepare our hearts to be as beautiful as we expect this church to be. Do you wish to find this basilica immaculately clean? Then do not soil your soul with the filth of sins. Do you wish this basilica to be full of light? God too wishes that your soul be not in darkness, but that the light of good works shine in us, so that he who dwells in the heavens will be glorified. Just as you enter this church building, so God wishes to enter into your soul, for he promised: I shall live in them, and I shall walk the corridors of their hearts.

Yet there is a drawback to the image of our bodies as temples of the Spirit, one that Jesus’ use of the word “temple” in relation to his own body puts in proper perspective.

When we use the word “temple” we often think of a building made by human hands, something that is replaceable. A congregation can tear down their sanctuary and build another; its building can be destroyed by forces of nature and replaced with a new structure. In these instances it is the same congregation, but with a different physical temple, which can come and go. The congregation is not dependent on its physical structure for its identity.

Not so with us. God created each of us as the unity of a unique body and a unique soul, inseparable from each other. I cannot be the person God made me to be without this unity of my body and my soul . The Catechism of the Catholic Church goes so far as to say that “spirit and matter, in man, are not two natures united, but rather their union forms a single nature.” (#365)

It is the bodies we live in now that will be resurrected and glorified on the last day, “the resurrection of the body” we profess in the Apostles’ Creed. As such our bodies are not temporary structures that can or will be replaced, but permanent temples destined for resurrected glory with our souls.

He’ll transform our lowly bodies so that they’ll have the same form as his glorious body, by means of the power that enables him to subject everything to himself. (Philippians 3:20-21)

Jesus speaks of his own body as a temple that will be rebuilt--not replaced--three days after its destruction. (John 2:19) The same destiny awaits the temples of our bodies, for Jesus will do the same for them. Thus everything we do with our bodies has implications for how we will live in their resurrected versions in heaven.

Athletics can be a great way to glorify God, employing our earthly temples in anticipation of their resurrection, when we approach them in the right spirit. As St. John Paul II noted;

“The Church looks at sport with great sympathy, since it considers the human body as the masterpiece of creation. God the Creator gave new life to the body, thus making it the instrument of an immortal soul. Man became a living being; moreover, redemption by Christ turned the human body into a temple of the Holy Spirit, thus making man a member of the Christ destined to be resurrected from his own ashes to live in eternity thereafter. When sport is practiced in a healthy way, it exalts the dignity of the human body without risking idolatry. The Church sees sport as a mighty element of moral and social education.”

Coaching Is Not Like Playing A Video Game

What's stated in the headline may seem obvious, but in the heat of competition sometimes the obvious is lost. It happened to me last year when I was coaching my 10U baseball team.

To prepare for our summer tournaments we played a series of scrimmages in the spring against other local teams. While we showed some promise, there was much more “room for improvement.” After one particularly harsh drubbing (where the other team made deliberate base-running “mistakes” to spare us more embarrassment) I decided we would take a break from scrimmaging to work only on practicing. I then received another invitation to scrimmage, which I accepted--and we were trounced again.

I gave the team the usual post-game talk, saying all the things a coach is supposed to say about not being discouraged, focusing on the positives, and believing in ourselves.

At least that’s what I thought I was supposed to say.

Later that night I realized the hypocrite I had been, because even as I gave that speech I was not following it myself. I was feeling discouraged, doubting myself, and feeling like a failure--but I put up a “brave front” and talked the talk without walking the walk.

In that pep-less pep-talk I really failed my team, because I was not honest with them. Instead of saying, “You know guys, I’m feeling bad too, and right now I’m not sure what to do about it. But we’ll get this figured out,” I put on an act, and told them to do something I wasn’t able and willing to do.

I came to some realizations that night about what coaching is, and what it is not.

It struck me that coaching is not like playing a video game. If I were to approach it that way I would see my job as this: I have to get this guy to hit a ball, this guy to field a ball, this guy to pitch, etc., and my success as a coach would depend solely on how well they accomplished these tasks.

But coaching is not like playing a video game, because my players are not video game characters for me to control. They’re young human beings, with different personalities and temperaments, different skills and levels of skill, different ways of learning, different paces of developing, different family situations, and with many other things going on in their lives, with baseball being one more thing they’re trying to fit in.

My success as a coach ultimately rests not on how well they execute on the field--though teaching them how to play the game is obviously a big part of this. But regardless of the results on the field, my success rests on something that is much more difficult to gauge: how well they personally deal with both success and failure, how they learn to give their best despite the circumstances, and how well I’ve taught them that their worth as a person is not measured in statistics.

I also realized an injustice I had done to my team during that scrimmage. As I watched the other team and how much better they played I thought “Why don’t we look like them?” The answer is so obvious, though easily lost in the midst of competition: “We don’t look like them because we’re not them. We’re us.”

From this I gleaned a piece of advice I gave to my team and continue to give. It goes like this: “Always bring your best, and don’t worry if your best doesn’t look like someone else’s. As long as it’s your best, that’s what matters. The only person whose best you have to try to beat is yours from last time.  And if you don’t, just get up and try again.”

Even an old coach like me can learn new tricks. Thank God!

                                                              

Three Rules For Coaching Youth Sports

When coaching youth sports there are three rules I set for myself, to help me, the kids, and their parents keep things in perspective.

1. Teach the kids something besides the sport--teach them something about life. If by season's end everything they've learned from me stays on the ball field then it was a waste of time, and I failed as a coach--because they don’t live on a ball field. Sports are never an end in themselves, they are a means toward something more important, a school of life where the ultimate lessons are how to conduct yourself away from the sport.

Ultimately, what are the most important things a coach can teach? Identify them, and teach them, using your sport as a hands-on lesson.

2. The game is never more important that the kids; it is made to serve them, not the other way around. Make sure they understand their value not just as athletes, but as persons.

Last summer after my 10U baseball team suffered a defeat at the hands of what looked more like a “professional” 10U team, I sang the praises of our opponent’s baseball skills, as was their due, since they completely out-played us.

I then told my team, “But you know, if I never saw that team play baseball again it wouldn’t break my heart. But it would break my heart if I never got to see you play baseball again. Because you’re the guys I want to be with, not them.”

3. Communicate with the parents, and make sure they understand the importance of communicating with you, especially if there is a concern. One way to state it very plainly: “One thing we all have in common is we all have a child here that we love, and we want this to be a good experience for them. That can only happen when we all work together and communicate with each other.”

In the heat of competition all of these can be easier said than done. In future posts I’ll share some of my experiences grappling with the sometimes conflicting pulls of wanting to keep my team competitive in games and wanting to build the self-esteem of my players, and what I’ve learned from these struggles.

Healing Football's Spiritual Wounds

This is a re-post of an article I wrote for Catholic Online in 2010.

Medical research is reporting with greater urgency how football can damage the body--especially the brain--and the findings are sobering. Two recent university studies have found that dementia symptoms, memory loss, paranoia and depression are highly prevalent among former football players--starting in middle age. Some sources indicate about 43,000 to 67,000 concussions are suffered by high school football players alone each year--with perhaps that many more failing to report their symptoms.

The rest of the body suffers as well. A growing number of former players are reporting debilitating pain years after hanging up their cleats--multiple surgeries, loss of physical functions, not being able to work--and the emotional and spiritual stress that accompanies it all.

Football officials are working to manage the physical risks. Yet there are spiritual concerns that must be addressed as well; who better than the Church to form the game plan. Football is not "only" a sport--it is a major piece of America's lifestyle. Called to minister to the people of God where they are, the Church needs to be at the heart of healing football's spiritual wounds.

Is football moral?

This involves grappling with a number of soul-searching questions, in light of the Church's teaching that "life and physical health are precious gifts entrusted to us by God. We must take reasonable care of them, taking into account the needs of others and the common good." (CCC #2288) Perhaps first among these questions is how a sport known to be physically dangerous can be morally licit given the care and respect owed to the body.

A fundamental tool of Catholic moral theology can be applied here: the principle of double effect. First formulated by St. Thomas Aquinas, this principle examines the morality of an action that produces both good and harmful effects. Four criteria must be met for the action to be considered morally acceptable in the Christian conscience.

First of all, the action itself must be good, or at least morally neutral. Fr. John Hollowell makes the case that playing football is a good that only becomes dangerous when done incorrectly. A former high school and college player, Fr. Hollowell chaplains the football team at Cardinal Ritter High School in Indianapolis. "I've never seen a concussion in football from anything other than bad technique," he said, "either on the part of the runner or the tackler. If football is played within the rules today it almost never leads to brain injuries."

He is not alone in this opinion. There is a body of professional literature that claims most football injuries are preventable if players are properly conditioned and the game's rules are consistently followed and enforced.

The second and third criteria of the principle of double effect state that the harm cannot be intended, nor can it be a means to the good effect. Fr. Clint Ressler, the Catholic chaplain for the NFL's Houston Texans, believes football passes both tests. "Most Christian players try to play the game the right way," he said. "They are good sportsmen and respect the game and their opponents. In football there is no explicit purpose to hurt or disable the opponent. In this sense, the injuries are, in most cases, truly accidents." Fr. Ressler also notes that most Christian players pray for safety on the field and leave the rest in God's hands.

The fourth criterion says there must be a proportionate reason to allow the harmful effect--the harm cannot outweigh the good. If we accept that most football injuries are the unintentional result of poor conditioning, faulty technique and playing outside the game's established rules, then we can allow that the many good things the game has to offer--teamwork, discipline, dedication to mission, bonding friendships, community spirit--outweigh its real but manageable risks.

Dropping the ball

Yet for years the risks have not been managed well, which is why so many players are suffering today. Football has long surrendered to a broader culture that teaches men to ignore pain, that believes nursing an injury is unmanly, and upholds physical toughness and even violence as the key to manhood.

These ideas have even been interpreted as Christian principles. Both Christianity and football teach self-sacrifice, putting the needs of others before our own, "playing through pain." Jesus himself subjected his body to violence to accomplish his mission.

So how can football players raised in this environment--and the physical and emotional wreckage it has left in its wake--adopt a spiritual approach to the game that rejects the old paradigm and better safeguards their physical health? The Church can take the lead through an outreach to teams of all ages, teaching parents, coaches, trainers and team chaplains solid pastoral skills and vision.

Recovering the fumble

Edward Hastings, Director of the Institute for Sport, Spirituality and Character Development at Neumann University in Aston, Pennsylvania, frames the issue in the Christian context of physical-spiritual union. "I think we need to help men realize more that our bodies are Temples of the Holy Spirit," he said. "Men tend to be taught to tough it out, move on and not pay attention to our bodies. I think good pastoral care--especially for men--needs to focus on reasonable, good awareness of the holiness of our bodies, to focus on the belief that we are made in the image and likeness of God, and see the sacredness and responsibilities this entails."

Fr. Ressler agrees, and maintains that the problem begins in childhood. "Our culture no longer initiates boys into manhood," he said. "We have, as a culture, a very shallow understanding of masculinity, equating it with physical prowess and, ultimately, violence. Sports easily get derailed without healthy leadership and coaching."

Fr. Hollowell offers a practical, spiritually healthy approach for coaches to help players understand both their obligation to the team as well as to their own health, echoing St. Paul's teaching that when one member of the body suffers, the entire body suffers. "The way to talk to the kid as his coach is to explain to him that if he plays injured, it hurts the team," he said. "Plain and simple. He may want to get out there and he may feel like he can do better than his backup, but if a coach explains to the kid that the player would be hurting the team, most guys understand that."

Another contributing factor to football's troubles is a culture that seems to have an appetite for increased contact in sports. Two newer (though now defunct) football leagues--the XFL and Arena Football League--marketed a more violent brand of the game. (One Arena League team used as its advertising slogan "Bring on the Hurt.")

A sound Christian perspective needs to address this trend as well. It is true that Jesus subjected his body to violence and even willingly allowed himself to be killed. But he entered into suffering and death because they are experiences God never willed for his people in the first place. Sin brought them into existence, and humanity was powerless to defeat them; so Jesus subjected himself to pain and death to conquer them for us. While pain and death remain as the consequence of sin, God does not will any of us to purposely seek them. Rather, we are called to alleviate others' pain--not cause it--and to stand up for the sanctity of the human body in all its stages and circumstances.

The ultimate healing

A final piece of the pastoral plan needs to reach out to those who regret having played football because of the harm it has done to their body. Edward Hastings states it plainly: "The pastoral response seems to be to accept forgiveness from God for this. We need to be sensitive to someone wanting to 'take one for the team' and then getting hurt."

When a football player adopts all of this as his spiritual game plan, he has truly become a man.

"This Is My Body, Which Will Be Given Up For You"

The following is adapted from my book “Living the Eucharist Through Sports.”

“This is my body, which will be given up for you.”

These are arguably the most important words ever spoken in the history of the world. Jesus made this remarkable announcement at the Last Supper—and repeats it at every Mass—that our sins are forgiven through the sacrifice of his body and blood, which in turn become the food and drink that give us eternal life. The Son of God took on a human body for the primary purpose of surrendering it entirely for our sake, so that we could be restored to the divine image in which we, in our bodies, were created.

“This is my body, which will be given up for you,” is also the motto of everyone who participates in athletic competition. When athletes commit to a sport they make this pledge, whether or not they consciously realize it, to their teammates, coaches, fans, and even opponents: “This is my body, which will be given up for you.” An athlete sacrifices his or her body and all that dwells within—mind, spirit and will—for the good of someone and something beyond themselves. As members of the Body of Christ, Christian athletes make this sacrifice not only in imitation of Christ, but truly in him and through him as branches of his vine.

It should come as no surprise that in a religion centered upon God incarnate—God in a human body like our own—athletics can and should be a vital component of faith formation and apostolate. Christianity is indeed a very physical religion; it all began with Jesus and his tremendous athleticism.

Think about it. Our salvation could only have been achieved through the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Consider the great physical strength that was involved in our saving event. To withstand the scourging at the pillar and the crowning with thorns, to carry the heavy cross through the streets of Jerusalem and up the hill to Calvary, to endure the torture of crucifixion—none of this could have been achieved without the athleticism of Jesus, whose body, mind, spirit, and will were so united and focused that he was able to sacrifice all.

Athletic prowess was crucial to Jesus’ ministry. He climbed mountains, rowed boats, and traveled extensively, mainly by walking, expecting his disciples to adhere to challenging physical conditions as they performed their work.

Realizing that the human body is a sacramental reality—created to make visible the invisible mystery of God—any activity that strengthens our bodies and improves our physical health serves as a living sign of God, who reveals himself through the human body. Sports, when participated in properly, can serve this function.

Does this mean that it is critically important to God who wins an athletic competition? Probably not. Is it critically important to God that his people learn how to work together as one body, learn to sacrifice and discipline for the good of others, better the health of our bodies which are temples of the spirit, and build community through whatever means human ingenuity can create? Of course. Sports, when engaged in properly with the right ideals and goals, accomplishes all of this. And when it is accomplished through a people of faith, it is accomplished in and through Jesus Christ.

If Christ’s people can do all of this without consciously realizing it, imagine how much more could be accomplished once this comes to mind! The power of Christian athletes to use their sports not only as an avocation, but also truly as a vocation, is immeasurable.

Coming to this realization, however, involves overcoming some cultural obstacles. For one, sports have often been considered a somewhat trivial element of our society; athletes who bring faith to their games have been accused of trivializing religion. Yet when we truly understand how limitless is God’s love for us, it becomes clear that there is no such thing as an activity too “trivial” for God not to be interested and involved. God cares deeply about every aspect of our lives, and he wants to be included in our every activity. God can be found on an athletic field just as he can be found anywhere else—there is no place we ca

nnot encounter him. Why then can God be difficult to recognize in our so-called “insignificant” moments?

Perhaps it is because we tend to downplay sports and recreation as merely a break from the seemingly more important business of life, with no real transcendent value. Yet recreation means “re-creation,” when God uses activities outside our usual routine to build us back into the body he created us to be. Former baseball commissioner Bart Giamatti observed that leisure is, “in Christian terms, a moment of contemplation…. Contemplation is the result not of work but of an activity freely assumed whose goal is to so perfect the self that for a moment we see what lies beyond the self…”

Our relationship with God is not (or should not be) forced upon us, but freely chosen. Why not use our athletic and recreational activities—also freely chosen—as an opportunity to explore the depths of that relationship? Sports provide us with a ripe opportunity to do so.

Another obstacle to realizing the formational value of sports is that in recent years sports have been maligned due to genuine problems in athletic culture. Substance abuse, violence, cheating, academic shortcuts, commercialism and emphasis on victory at all costs have tainted the reputation of sports in general. Such a pessimistic out look is not new. Even St. Augustine in his famous Confessions expressed regret at his own involvement in sports: “As a boy I played ball games, and that play slowed down the speed at which I learnt letters…. I was disobedient not because I had chosen higher things, but from love of sport.” He added, “In competitive games I loved the pride of winning…. Look with mercy on these follies, Lord, and deliver us who now call upon you.”

But as with anything else God gave us to use responsibly, the abuse of sport can sometimes appear to become the norm, tarnishing its true identity. Athletics at their heart are a tremendous good, from which humanity can derive even greater good when exercised properly and promoted as an avenue for God’s grace.

“This is my body, which will be given up for you” should be the mantra of every Christian athlete at every level of competition—from professional to recreation league to “weekend warrior.” As Jesus taught when people scoffed at the widow’s mite, every sincere sacrifice—whatever the nature or the amount—is a valuable contribution to the Kingdom of God.

No Pain, No Gain

Whoever would be my disciple must deny himself,

He must take up his cross and follow me. (Matthew 16: 24)

We can use the sports expression “No Pain, No Gain” to reflect on the meaning of pain in our lives and its relation to the cross of Christ.

What does it mean to take up a cross? Does any kind of suffering constitute a cross, or must it be suffering explicitly in the pursuit of the Kingdom of God?

People have interesting interpr

etations of what it means to take up a cross. A thought-provoking take on Jesus’ message was offered in a homily at a Mass I attended some years ago. The priest giving the homily proposed that not all suffering is necessarily a cross, for a cross must be freely chosen. Since Jesus freely chose to carry his cross for us, he argued that only the suffering we deliberately choose to take on can be rightly regarded as a cross. He did not consider illness, for example, or the death of a loved one, or being fired from one’s job to be crosses, since they are not chosen.

The homily got me thinking. My first thought was that I could not remember a single time in my life when I had purposely chosen to suffer, nor was I anticipating doing so any time in the near future. (Suffering had come as a result of some things I had chosen to do, but I did not deliberately choose to suffer.)

My second though was that I did not agree with this interpretation at all.

There is a lot of suffering in our life that we do not choose. Yet once we are suffering, we do have a choice of what to do about it. We can choose to be angry, feel sorry for ourselves, or bemoan the injustice of something terrible happening to good people like ourselves. Or we can choose to embrace the suffering as an opportunity to join ourselves to the sufferings of Christ. The latter is choosing to take up a cross, and it can be done whether the suffering was chosen or not.

I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the Church. Colossians 1:24

Run to Win--But Should We Pray to Win?

“Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled,

and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 14: 11; also 18:14)

This message is so important that Jesus issues it not just once, but in two separate incidents in Gospel accounts. To the guests choosing places of honor at a banquet, Jesus advises taking the lowest seats, and waiting for the host to invite them to a higher position. In the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, Jesus champions the sinner who humbly admits his failings and prays for forgiveness instead of the Pharisee who praises his own virtue. In both instances Christ’s message is clear: exaltation is not ours to seek or to bestow--it is granted by the Father through our humility in prayer, word and action.

Given this, an important discussion arises among Christian athletes on the issue of praying for victory. Baseball managing legend Tommy Lasorda once joked, “I never pray that we win—I pray that we don’t lose.” With prayer becoming more openly expressed in the athletic activities the question is inevitable: is it proper to pray for victory? What are some underlying spiritual movements in prayers offered for success in sports?

Praying for victory simply for the satisfaction and glory it brings would seem contrary to Christ’s teaching. If the object of prayer is merely to seek our own glorification, then we need look no further to the Savior’s words noted above for resolution. But success in athletics can have broader ramifications; it can open doors to various avenues for God’s grace, which should be taken into account when discerning the propriety of praying to win.

For Christian athletes seeking to spread the Good News of Christ, success in sports means higher visibility and a larger stage from which to evangelize. Victory in sports, especially when it comes in a dramatic fashion or against steep odds, has an inspiring quality that can arouse the faithful to apply the lessons learned to their own life. Any victory gained through hard work, preparation, discipline and effective teamwork has lessons to offer far beyond the sports world.

While these by-products of athletic success have positive ramifications for Christian mission, does it still justify praying for victory? Or should prayer humbly ask only for God’s help in doing our best, leaving the outcome to His providential care? Perhaps a healthy mix of both is the right approach.

As in everything in our lives, the Lord’s example is the best to follow. On the night before his death, Jesus prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me; still, not my will but yours be done.” (Luke 22: 42) Jesus honestly expresses to the Father his human desires; but ultimately His divine nature prevails and He prays that God’s will be done. In the same way God wants us to honestly tell Him our real desires, whether or not they are truly the best for us. God wants us to openly share our wants with him because only he can properly sort them out and help us learn what we truly are to pursue. Yet while honestly telling him what our will may be, God calls us to accept his will, whether or not it coincides with our wants. If we desperately want victory we need to tell that to God, who understands our hearts better than we and knows better than we if our motives are pure or tainted by sin. God can then take our prayer and answer us with the wisdom and counsel we truly need. Maybe victory is the best thing for us; maybe God wants us—or we need—to lose. In either event, using our God-given talents to the best of our ability and striving to win while humbly submitting to God’s will is the only formula for true victory.

"Mowgli and the Missionary" Chapters One and Two

You can read the first two chapters of my new novel here.

If Cleveland Can Forgive LeBron...

One of the most heralded sports stories of the year has been the return of LeBron James to his native Cleveland--the city that expressed profound hatred for him four years earlier when he left via free agency for the Miami Heat. All was forgiven when basketball’s “King James” returned home like the prodigal son.

Another noteworthy story--actually one among many that grace our news reports from time to time--is that of Mary Johnson of Minneapolis, and how she came to forgive the teenager who killed her sixteen-year old son in 1993. You can read her story here.

Jesus explicitly taught that if we do not forgive, God will not forgive us. (Matthew6:15) If God does not forgive us, we’re toast. If there is even one person in our life we cannot bring ourselves to forgive, Jesus tells us we can forget about ever going to Heaven. Plain and simple.

After using that expression with a group about being “toast” without God’s forgiveness, I composed an “ad” for forgiveness, along the lines of a series of advertisements recently run for a television provider. My “ad” for forgiveness goes like this:

When someone hurts you, you get mad.

When you get mad, you want to get even.

When you want to get even, you start thinking of mean things to do.

When you start thinking of mean things to do, you become a mean person.

When you become a mean person, you don’t know how to forgive.

When you don’t know how to forgive, you don’t forgive.

When you don’t forgive, God doesn’t forgive you.

When God doesn’t forgive you, you become a burned piece of toast to be thrown out in the garbage.

Don’t be a burned piece of toast to be thrown out in the garbage.

Fiorgive.