Mowgli and the Missionary

My novel "Mowgli and the Missionary" is now available as an ebook for Amazon Kindle, Barnes and Noble Nook, and the Apple iBookstore. Read the first two chapters for free by clicking here

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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!