The Magnificent Game

The Internets are alive today with thoughts on the incredible Game 6 of the Bulls-Celtics playoff series, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Bulls won in 3 overtimes. In six games, there have been seven overtimes, and five of those six games have been decided by one play. It's incredible. It being fresh in my mind, I wanted to record some thoughts. I'll post something funny later.

Since Game 3 or 4, some people have been calling this possibly the best playoff series in NBA history. It's been that good. But what really gets me is the fan reaction after Game 6. People haven't just been talking about the team they want to win, but they're talking about their love for the game, and how that love is captured in this moment (or series of moments).

Sports almost never does this, but it can reach a level where it brings something out of us, the fans, that transcends the game. I mean, every sports fan wants to see a good game, and we see a lot of bad ones, but every fifty years or so there's something that's more than just a good game. It's something that brings people together, even people who really wouldn't care otherwise. This Bulls-Celtics series is approaching something special like that. I know it sounds ridiculous, but if you read around the net, you'll know what I mean.

If you'll allow me to get really overdramatic, it reminds me of the Miracle on Ice. People got on board for this Olympic hockey game like never before, and maybe hockey was more popular in 1980, but even then, this game brought the country together. A hockey game. In 1980, the only hockey teams south of the Mason-Dixon line were in LA and Atlanta, and the Atlanta team moved to Canada the following season. Somehow, this game that appealed more to some Canadians than most Americans still caught our hearts. I don't think we can imagine anything, let alone a sports game, uniting us like that today. But it was about more than patriotism or anything like that. As easy as it was to draw political lines, that doesn't speak to the heart of the fanaticism over a hockey game. This was something more, something you can't put your finger on. And the feeling everybody got when those guys won, well, see Miracle. I cry every time I watch that movie.

It makes me want to part of a Magnificent Game. We love games like this because we want to be part of something like that. We want the struggle, the back-and-forth, the come-from-behind victory, the back-breaking impossible play. But since most of us will never be in a sports moment like that, we want that with our lives. That's why it speaks to our hearts and not just our rooting interests, because the struggle really matters.

We can make a game out of everything, but how do you make it truly Magnificent? We play the money game, the sex game, the fame game, the knowledge game, whatever. But to really matter, you have to have a magnificent goal, a magnificent end. If I play for money my whole life, it won't mean a thing in the end. I want to think eternally, and then I want to think about how my life can be a Magnificent Game forever. I mean, whoever wins this Bulls-Celtics series will get beat by LeBron and the Cavs. In the bizarre chance that one of these teams wins the championship, then they play for a few more years, get old, retire, and maybe even end up trying to sell their championship rings on eBay (as many former champions are doing now). It's a fading glory at best.

I need something that really matters. So I want to struggle against evil and fight for truth. I want to fight back when I'm down one (or ten), even if the devil keeps coming back and taking the lead from me. And there's so many ways to take this metaphor, like designing the right plays and going for the unbelievable shots, but I'll just leave it at that. To me, it comes down to whether I'm playing the right game.

Only Books and Art Museums From Now On

Today, thanks to a good friend of mine, I'm considering giving up all television and movies (and some internet) for a period of 40 days. Who knows, maybe we'll stretch that out into forever. I'm so unpredictable. You never know what I'll quit and for how long.

This may seem like a horrifying and even life-threatening idea to some of you (and I'm not just talking about the Blogulator), and I can't blame you. After all, television and film represent the best of what our culture has to offer...some of the time. You may ask, what more could there be to life beyond these media? Here's what I expect to find or learn more about in my entertainment fast:
-friendship
-God
-tacos

While I considered turning this blog into a periodic journal of my televisionless life, I decided that would be boring and lame. So I present to you a sampling of what my journal may possibly look like, should I decide to do one at all, and if I would ever have posted it.

Day Four: Doing OK. Life's not that much different. I learned about the cheese chemistry in chicken tacos today, but I still don't think I'll eat chicken tacos. Somebody once asked me if I wanted a turkey taco. What were they thinking? Of course not! So I said no, and they threw it at my car.

Day Ten: Remember that episode of The Simpsons when Homer imagines his life in the woods like Thoreau? He's sitting at a lake, and he writes in his journal, "I wish I brought a TV. Oh God how I miss TV!" I don't think I laughed at that moment. It wasn't that funny. Or when he was like, "No TV and no beer make Homer something something." I guess it's not as funny when I write it down.

Day Twenty: Tried to discover the cure for AIDS today. No luck. I thought since I wasn't wasting my time in entertainment I'd have a better chance. Turns out I need to be a scientitian or something. I forget what they're called. Maybe I'll look into that whole science thing and give it another shot tomorrow.

Day Thirty-three: The government's trying to get me. I saw a white van parked outside, and I know it's them. I better slash their tires and go to Canada. Before it's too late.

Day Thirty-five: Canada is not nearly as bad as TV always said it was. I get to spend the whole day dancing in the forest and talking to the trees. One of them is pretty cute. I might ask her to marry me. I know it might seem like I'm moving too fast, but marrying a Canadian will also get the US government off my tail. Do trees count as Canadian citizens?

The Meaning of Life

I encountered an interesting bumper sticker this morning. I tend to despise bumper stickers, and this one was no exception, but it asked a question that intrigued me. Or maybe it didn't intrigue me, but it seemed worth blogging about.

The question was this:
"What if the Hokey Pokey really is what it's all about?"

I have several thoughts about this, but they all revolve around the same idea. That idea being suicide. Because if this statement were true, we may as well all kill ourselves now. The alternative (a lifetime of hokey-pokey) is not especially appealing.

We've come a long way since the Rennaisance, sure, but the hokey pokey might be our last refuge for a meaningful life in this crazy world? Are video games, politics, and Cheetos no longer enough to satisfy the soul? And what if we invented robots to do the hokey pokey for us? Would we then become obsolete?

Actually, now I'm so horrified at the prospect of hokey-pokeying robots that I have to end this post. Pray that no mad scientists or mad robot-builders ever read this blog.

Breakable

My unbreakable nalgene-ripoff bottle has a crack in it. That's really not supposed to happen. I remember a time when I would hurl it at cars on the freeway and laugh maniacally as they exploded from even the briefest contact with the indestructible bottle. Now apparently that time is at an end.

I feel like this is precisely the nature of human life. We spend our youths wildly blowing up as many cars as we can get our hands on, but then one day, we crack. Maybe just a little bit, but we crack. And then not only are we unable to blow up any cars, but we're unable to find meaning even in trying to blow up cars.

So we can go on trying to blow up cars with reckless abandon for ourselves and others, or we can get go to the hobby shop around the corner and get some glue. I, for one, will be getting some glue. If you need me, I'll be at the hobby shop.

Lessons from the 2008 NCAA Men's Basketball Championship

The Kansas Jayhawks, probably my favorite team in all of sports, won the NCAA Men's Basketball championship against Memphis last night. They came back from being 9 points down with just over two minutes left to force overtime, where they pulled off a seemingly miraculous win. Memphis missed all but one of its free throws when the game was really on the line, and Kansas put together an inspiring comeback run.

Memphis coach John Calipari described his thoughts for the last 10 seconds of regulation time, when his star Derrick Rose went to shoot two free throws, as follows: "When Derrick went to the line, I sat there and I said, 'Lord, if he makes these two, we're supposed to be national champs. And if that's your will, I'm fine with it. If he misses them, and we're not, I'm fine with that too.' I'm probably not supposed to say that, but that's where I was."

The Yahoo sports-writing guy, Gerry Ahern, reporting on that commented, "Apparently, God's a Jayhawks fan." Though this comment is not as true as I would like it to be (what happened in that 2003 championship game, God?), I am grateful that God let my team win last night. Until now, my team has never won anything important, and I'd begun to think that nothing important was winnable.

Most people, Christians in particular it seems, don't think God cares about sports. I tend to agree (even though I once prayed for Purdue to miss a short field goal in a football game against Wisconsin--they missed it, and Wisconsin won, and it was great), but I think there's more spiritual value in sports than we realize. And I didn't really realize it until the Jayhawks won last night.

God wins. He is victorious over all the evil in the world, all the evil in us. The devil loses. It's supposed to be simple, but in real life it never seems that way. Sometimes it seems like everything I experience is good losing and evil winning in my life, and I get disheartened. The same thing happens in sports. With Kansas down 9 and the game almost over, I was already feeling depressed, feeling the game was put away and there was no chance. Once again my favorite team would lose, as they always lose in the games that matter, and I'd just have to deal with it.

Somehow, though, a long shot from Rose that was ruled a three was reviewed and rightly determined to be only two. That one point could have won the game for Memphis. Somehow Memphis couldn't make a free throw in the final minutes. Somehow Kansas got a steal that turned into a three-pointer to drop the lead to four. Somehow the refs didn't call a foul when Kansas had the last possession with seconds left. Somehow Mario Chalmers from Alaska nailed a three-pointer with a hand in his face with two seconds remaining to force overtime. And somehow they carried that momentum into those extra five minutes to hang an extra 12 points on for the win. The game that seemed lost was won.

If my life were a basketball game, I could look back on many times when I was worse than 9 points down with not much time left and the game seemed lost. There have been several times when I believed that I couldn't come back from the deficit that I had against me. Satan scores as well as anyone, and I start to lose faith that God can win or that he even wants me to win. I get discouraged, and I start to fall even further behind.

Oddly enough, God showed me through the Jayhawks' win that He is winning. Even in staring down an insurmountable lead, He comes from behind. He turns the enemy's shots to bricks and He makes my shots fall. Even when the game gets hard, when the other team makes a really demoralizing shot, when the star player I've counted on can't be counted on anymore, when it seems like there's no way out, I will come back because God is for me. (If only 2 Corinthians 1:8-10 had used sports metaphor.)

I don't think God is a Jayhawks fan. I believe He's my fan. He let my favorite team finally win something--and it was hard and suffered for--to show me that my life is not a losing battle. It will not be crushing blow after crushing blow. And not only does He want me to win, but He won't let me lose, as long as I have faith in Him. I was really joyful after Kansas won, but I was even more joyful thinking about God and how through Him I win no matter what. Thanks to Jesus, I can look forward to a championship that will never fade.

Rock Chalk.

Uncharacteristic Serious Post

I'm feeling very serious today, so I had a serious reaction to something that caught my eye. The Vatican has recently released an edict or an update of some sort that named the "new sins" of the modern age. The list (which didn't actually appear in list form, which would have made it easier on all of us) includes pollution, drugs, economic disparity, and genetic manipulation.

Really? Has the world reached a point where the "old sins" aren't relevant anymore? Or are we so oblivious to the rampant sins of greed, pride, and lust that we need to come up with sins we can understand and relate to without searching our hearts? Does anyone care that it's a sin not to love God?

I'm no fan of pollution either, but all this does is make us able to point fingers at corporations and governments and accuse them. But sin doesn't exist for us to judge one another about it--it's to make us aware of our need for grace and salvation through Jesus Christ. Instead of telling the polluters and drug users of the world that they're sinners, the Vatican should telling you and me and every last one of us that we're sinners. And then they should tell us that the only way to be forgiven for your sins is to believe in Jesus Christ, who loves us despite all the crap we've done. (But maybe if they told people that they weren't all as great as they think they are and that they didn't need to be forgiven by the priest, they'd stop coming to mass.)

It just frustrates me that anyone would think that this "modern" world needs to identify "modern" sins. The real situation in this world is that the regular old sins have just gotten a lot more out of control. I wish people would stop being PC and appealing to liberal (or conservative) sentiment and get down to how it really is--we're in a desperate situation, and unless we figure this life out right, we're dead.

Sobering Reality

I've heard about a lot of amazingly crappy things today. I work with amazingly crappy things on a daily basis, but something today made it real for me. These things, a lot of people are going to end up hurt really bad, and a lot of them already are hurting really bad. This world is an incredibly broken place, and so much of the time we can convince ourselves that it's not that bad. But it is that bad.

It's not poverty, and it's not AIDS, and it's not unjust war, though all of those are bad. It's the stuff that happens to people, the stuff that we can attach a face or a name to. It's not all evil. Some of it just starts with stupid decisions, but it ends of doing real harm to innocent people. It may be easier for us not to think about it--I know it's easier for me--but I'm not sure that it's better.

So please pray. Everybody needs our prayers.

Laughter Part II: The Return of the Laughter

Two words: retirement over.

Yes, like several pro athletes well past their prime, I am returning to what once won me the love and respect of my peers, hoping to lead my team to a championship. The past and its numerous failures are behind us, and before us lies a bright future littered with trophies and medals and free shoes. This, my friends, is the beginning of the golden age. Or at least the bronze age.

If only coming out of retirement was actually that good. In this world where there are more blogs than human beings, my un-retirement heralds something more like that feeling you get before you yawn.

Why am I coming back? Because blogging is fun. I think.

Why am I not a hypocrite for coming back? Good question. You may recall that when I quit, I cited some verse about being crucified with Christ. The thing about being crucified with Christ, I now realize seven months after using that to support quitting, is that it also means you're raised to new life with him. So really, my return was inevitable, and we all should have known better than to trust me.

Here's to new life.

On a High Note

When I started this, I was never sure how my run would come to an end. I sometimes wondered if I would blog for my entire life. Over the past few months, though, it's become clear that that would never happen. While I may always have the stamina for it (27 posts in a single day? YES!), I knew I would not always have the spirit for it. And now the spirit has run dry.

Effective today, I am retired from blogging.

As the confusion sets in, you may ask yourself, "Why? Why would God allow something like this to happen to me?" I feel your pain, and I'm sorry. The simple answer is that this blog inflates my ego and my pride. I do it to draw attention to myself, and that's not what I'm about. I love the praise I've gotten, but I shouldn't. I want all that glory to go to God. While this has been a great creative outlet for me, it's been bad for life I want to live in Christ.

"I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." -Galatians 2:20

I will still read all the blogs I love, and I hold nothing against them. I hope all your blogging (or blog-reading) endeavors will be fulfilled in good heart. God bless us, every one.

Whatever Gets You Through the Night

"Do not fear, only believe."
-Mark 5:36

Implosion

Christine has nothing to blog about today, and neither do I, but I need to do something to relieve the pressure (or is it non-pressure?) of this horrible work-filled day.

I may have set a personal record for most work done in a single day. I did 7 critical incidents (and there's still an hour lift in the day--this better not be a jinx), and I spent the majority of my free time fretting about those incidents along the other traumas of daily life. It was not a fun day.

Allow me to reflect for a moment: it's hard not to be depressed when everything going on is depressing. It's not like there's no hope, though. Of course there's hope. But please, God, deliver on some of it!

I just got a chocolate-covered almond from a coworker. While I don't much like chocolate, and I'm mostly indifferent to almonds, but this may mean my day is finally on an upswing. Probably not, but at least I can thank God for these little kindnesses that sustain me.

Seven

For my next mix CD project, I will burn seven discs, each one themed after one of the seven virtues. I was all excited to work on this over the next few weeks, but then I encountered a problem. While the Catholic church named seven deadly sins, they named 14 virtues. Talk about going overboard.

There is one group of seven "capital" virtues, and each of these is the opposite of a deadly sin. Then there's the four "cardinal" virtues (prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude), my personal favorites, which are often paired with the three "theological" virtues (faith, hope and charity). So which ones do I make my mix CDs for?

I'm gonna go with cardinal and theological, I think. That'll be the real challenge. Anybody could make a CD after the deadly sins or undeadly virtues, but tackling something like "fortitude" will require some sound mixology.

And to Adam: if you have any suggestions for any of these CDs, let me know, since you'll be the one to hear them on the drive down to Faithwalkers.

Catholic Disaster

Last night I dreamt that I went to a Catholic mass. I went with somebody who was not Catholic and had no idea what was going on, and that made for some seemingly bizarre incidents. Like when we prayed, this person insisted we all hold hands (which, upon reflection, I realize I've done with actual Catholic people).

The communion was the strangest part, though. Instead of wafers and wine, the communion was given with Teddy Grahams and boiling water served straight from the pot. I used a styrofoam cup for the water, though.

THE END.

God in the Movies

My church is gonna start a series on "God in the Movies" in a couple months. They're doing a big ad campaign, so it's a big deal. Yay church!

However, if I were in charge of church, and for what I'm about to write we can thank everyone in every area of influence that I'm not, I would have chosen some different movies. Like...

The Blues Brothers: They're on a mission from God. What else do you have to say?

Lawrence of Arabia: The man thinks he is God. That's...blasphemy. But blasphemy is a God-related concept.

2001: A Space Odyssey: I could definitely BS something about God from this abstract adventure. I could also probably BS something about Vietnam, industrialized coal mining, or the social behavior of bees, but that's beside the point.

Brokeback Mountain: Ummmm...let's not.

Monty Python and the Holy Grail: God sends the knights on a quest, but they keep getting into trouble. Is that because man is inept or because God is a cosmic practical joker? Neither. If you haven't seen the movie, I won't give away the correct answer, but I will tell you this: it has something to do with the French.

There will, however, be talks on Cinderella Man, Batman Begins, and like two more that I keep forgetting. While they might not be as good as talks on the above films, they'll still have some good stuff. Or whatever. I don't know.

I Heart Politics

For some reason, I've been reading a lot of political stuff on blogs and in person lately. This confuses me a little because we're not really that close to November yet. But it is pretty hot out, and I suppose it's hard not to babble when you're on the verge of heat stroke.

Normally, I don't like to talk about my political opinions. I have two reasons for this. One is I'm right, and the other is you're wrong. So what's the point? But since some people seem to think they're right, I feel the need to address their complaints.

God gave us the monarchy for a reason and that reason is so we didn't have to vote. He saw the ignorance of the masses and decided something to the effect of, "These people have no idea what's going on, so I'm going to give them a king to smack them in the jaw so they stop yammering like idiots." The monarchy gave us several centuries of peace and good will, completely without the thoughtless mouth-wagging of the mud-besmirched peasants. Good times all around.


And then what happens? America decides they don't want to pay taxes. Well, I'm sorry, idealists and revolutionaries, but everybody has to pay taxes. You'd have been better off drinking that tea. I bet it was good, too. The Motherland makes some great tea. Then the French come along, inspired by America's disdain for luxury food and beverage, and decide to behead their glorious monarchs. And from then on, nothing but chaos.


So here we are in the Twenty-first or Twenty-second century, and we're back to flapping our yaps at leaders because they're the ones who don't know what's going on. Did you ever stop to think that our leaders suck because we elected them? Didn't think so. I say we go back to divine mandate. Like heirs and bloodlines, prophecy, protracted civil wars, and magically bestowed swords.

A Miracle of Timing, Positioning, and Rubber

It is a miracle that I am here blogging to you today. Not one of those "every day is a miracle" miracles but a "Thank GOD I didn't die" miracle.

I nearly caused what could have been a two-lane multiple-car crash this morning. I was changing into the lane to my left, going about 50, and I changed a little bit hesitantly. When I was just pulling into the lane and double-checking my blind spot, the cars in front of me slowed down very suddenly. I had to slam on my brakes--literally slam. My tires squealed. That's how I knew it was serious. There probably should have been a crash.

I thank GOD all the time when I'm driving and narrowly miss small disasters. Let's face it, I'm one of the world's worst drivers. I quite simply wouldn't survive on the roads day to day without the hand of God protecting me.

So I got to thinking...maybe I should start trying to be a better driver. Maybe I trust God with my life too much. And then I laughed.

Lessons Learned from James Joyce: EXTREME

Some of you scholars may recall Stephen Dedalus' enthusiastic conversion in Chapter 4 (I think) of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. In this chapter (or perhaps the chapter preceding) Stephen devotes himself to the debasement of his senses as a way to bring himself closer to God. Of course, he abandoned that lifestyle in the following chapter, but that's beside the point.

So, in my unceasing effort to imitate James Joyce, I may take up this endeavor as Joyce's hero once did. Not the sticking my face in cow poo or submitting myself to atonal and jarring sounds, though. I'm not going to take it that far. Really, I think the farthest I'll go is eating rice for every other meal. Maybe even every meal. I love rice.

Love and Laughter

I just got back from the last FTA (church small group) meeting of the year, and boy are my arms tired. Not that tired, really, but a little.

Now I know a lot of FTAers read this blog, so hopefully this won't seem like I'm leaking confidential information. But here goes.

We did one of those things where everybody writes a nice, encouraging thing about everyone in the group. Very life-affirming, uplifting, etc. Greatly appreciated. But there was a trend in the nice things said to me that I found particularly unique: 3 people mentioned my laugh. I guess that's not a huge trend, but still. I never really thought of my laugh as comment worthy, but I'm glad it is. Thank you, you three people and everyone else who appreciates it, and you're welcome for blessing you with my great laugh.

A Day As Long and Glorious As Eternity

Today, for the first time ever in the history of my time at Cigna (and I realize I say that a lot, but excuse what may seem like hyperbole), I worked the entire day. Or almost. 8:30-4:30, so I fell a half hour short. That's still seven hours, though. Pretty impressive, huh?

I had three critical incidents, all of which took forever. I made at least 20 calls on each case, left tons of messages, and still dealt primarily with refusals all day. I struck out--meaning I couldn't find someone--on my first case ever today. To say the least, it was trying.

Let me tell ya, if it wasn't for prayer, grace, God, etc., this day would have been unbearable. This morning I was reminded about how suffering produces endurance, and now I know how. Suffering doesn't produce endurance because it wears on us but because we struggle against it and defeat it. Granted, this was just a struggle to finish a meaningless task, but it taught me that suffering passively is pointless. I need to engage in it if I want to go anywhere.

For those of you who prefer funspar...
Coming Soon: More Conversations with Yaris!
Unspar: Will you marry me, Yaris?
Yaris: I was just going to ask you the same question!

What will they come up with next?

Homeless

I know there are a few of you readers of my blog who were out on the homeless outreach yesterday, and I know there are a few of you who weren't. For all of you, I just discovered the site with Wounded Shield's art. It's pretty cool.

Wounded Shield, also called Dennis, I think, is a homeless Native American. I met him yesterday, and I think some people met him before. He's a great guy, and I'm looking forward to seeing him again. I'm really worried about his drinking, though; when I asked him why he gets drunk, he said it's better than jumping off a bridge. He later told us he wouldn't do that because he was happy to know that people cared about him, but still. So if any of you are prayer-inclined, please pray for him.