Cussing Pastors...

I was 17 years old the first time I ever heard an adult Christian leader purposely say the word "f*ck."

I was sitting in a musty college classroom at Eastern University in Pennsylvania and listened to a man named Tony Campolo talk. Somehow, our youth pastor had managed to secure an audience with this man, who was (and is) a leading evangelical pastor, thinker and activist.

Campolo's primary message to us wasn't what you'd think. He told us how we were all just a bunch of suburban, comfortable white kids and how if we were ever really going to know the heart of God and build His Kingdom, we'd have to climb out of our convenient, comfortable lives and go to places where real people were really hurting, and then do something about it.

He told us a story about going to Haiti, and as he was leaving on a prop plane from a small airstrip, a woman who was dying of AIDS ran onto the tarmac, desperate and screaming. He attempted to hand her baby to Campolo because she knew he was American, and his ties to this nation and its health care was her child's only chance at life. She then threw herself into the plane's propeller, instantly killing herself. She did this to force Mr. Campolo to take her child.

A stunned silence fell over all of us.

He told us about working in inner-city Philadelphia, and how the toughest task of that job was convincing young men and women that their lives - lives filled with drugs and abuse and abandonment and hurt - were *easy* compared to some people's on this planet. And then convincing them that the way to get past their hurt was to help others who were less fortunate.

At one point, while he was talking, Campolo got worked up. He said something to the effect of "The problem is, most Christians don't care about injustice or the fact that millions of kids die. They don't give a flying f*ck about any of it."

We sat in stunned silence. Did this guy just say...

Mr. Campolo got irritated instantly (perhaps at himself). He stammered. "Great," he said. "Now the only thing you'll remember about this visit is that I said the word f*ck. And you won't remember anything else!"

Tony was wrong.

I remember a lot more than just the mere fact that an adult leader who was a Christian swore. I remember his passion for justice and how for Campolo, that demanded - DEMANDED - action on the part of those who want to honor God with their lives.

But.

I do remember the fact that he swore.

Ed Young's Definition of Cussing


Looking to the Bible, we don’t find a list of "naughty" words to stay away from. In Ephesians 4:29, Paul admonishes us to watch the way we talk. This doesn’t refer to specific words, but to the character of what we say.

That's why I was interested in this video by Ed Young, who is a great guy and pastor of one of the 5 biggest churches in the nation.

Ed is speaking specifically to pastors, here, but the application is interesting for anyone who is a follower of Jesus. Ed says that we shouldn't cuss, but his definition is a bit broader than you might expect. Young includes the following words:

• That sucks.


• I'm screwed.


• I'm pissed off
.

• Crap.

Young says that young leaders should avoid such talk. He says it's filthy and scatological and not creative in the least sense.

Not all Christians necessarily agree. This article at ChurchMarketingSucks.com has some insightful hings to say about the cultural and linguistic contexts that define what's offensive and what isn't. They say:

Taking offense at another Christian's actions doesn't automatically mean they're in the wrong. It also doesn't mean everything is admissible (this isn't relativism 101). It's a tough line to walk."

Some Final Personal Reflections
This whole thing has made me really do some introspection. I talk a lot. Too much, frankly. In the words of one of my mentors, "Dave, you talk when you should be quiet, and are quiet when you should talk." In general, I think I'm learning to submit more of my speech to the Holy Spirit and to err on the side of caution. Why risk offending someone over mere words that I can just as easily not say? That's the general council I hear from the Apostle Paul, anyway.

I don't always do a good job. This morning, while serving my children breakfast, I stepped barefoot on one of my son's toys and said, "Freakin' A, that hurt."

Not cussing. But not clean and honoring to God, either. I'm a work in progress. And I will work to let the Lord renovate me.

That being said, in the end, I'm pretty sure God will be far less mad at Tony Campolo for cussing in front of me than he will be at the scores of other Christians who see the world broken and in need, and ignore the voice of God who is shouting "If you love me, please...do something!"

God can look past our words, which are merely the attempt of the human heart to express itself, and see the person behind them. There's something to be said for "being real" and "authentic" with God, I think. There's also something to be said for not sinning in our speech. That's the tension, isn't it.

What do you think?

Why I Can't Root For Kobe

There's a scene in the new Spike Lee movie "Kobe Doin' Work" where Kobe is trying to show that he is a good teammate and an all-around good guy. This of course, is not true. One of the biggest secrets of the NBA is that Kobe Bryant is a world-class prick, but nobody is ever allowed to admit this. Ever. At any rate, in the movie, to show his "I'm just one of you guys" down-to-Earth side, Kobe walks up to fellow-Laker Sasha Vujacic (who is from Slovenia) and speaks Italian to him.

This was to show Kobe's chummy-chummy side. The only problem was Vujacic's reaction. He looked like someone who had just seen his mom make out with Zac Efron: utter confusion coupled with a little bit of fear. It was as if Vujacic was saying to himself "Wait. Why is Kobe talking to me? He never talks to me."

And that scene is why I will never root for Kobe Bryant.

This doesn't mean I can't appreciate, as a fan of basketball, what Kobe is doing and has done on the court. With his win tonight, Kobe firmly cemented his legacy as one of the top 8 best basketball players of all-time, behind only Magic, Jordan, Bird, West, Oscar, Kareem and Russell (not in that order). He's the second best 2-guard in the history of the NBA.

But I am not a fan. If I were 11, I wouldn't put a poster of him in my room. If I were 20 and not as white, I would not buy his replica jersey and attempt to wear it to play pick-up basketball at 24-hour fitness.

Because I don't admire him as a person.

Italian Prince History Isn't Your Strong Suit, Is It?
Now I know what you're thinking. you're thinking, "Oh. It's because of the rape charges in Colorado, isn't it, you judgmental jerk?" No. As tragic as infidelity in marriage is, that's not my reason. It was for a little while, but then I realized if I was going to stop watching sports that prominently featured philanderers, I'd have to start watching either bass fishing or 8th grade girls badminton.

That's not why I don't like Kobe.

The answer to that lies in the ways that even those who marvel at him - his biggest fans - describe him.

The ABC announcers kept referring to Kobe as Machiavellian. Apparently, these announcers don't know what that means. It's not laudatory, guys. It's like calling someone "Pol-Pot-esque." The announcers kept pointing out that Kobe rarely encourages his teammates, holding them to impossibly high standards bordering on perfectionism. "That's what I call leadership," crowed Jeff Van Gundy.

No, Jeff. That's not leadership. It's called being a self-consumed, results-driven success addict. Berating people and staring them down when they make a mistake might make them perform better for a while out of fear, but it's also vaguely manipulative and not really good for fostering healthy interpersonal relationships.

I suppose it's not the fact that Kobe keeps winning that bothers me. It's the way he approaches the game. It is all about winning. And you get the sense with Kobe that teammates are expendable parts, mildly necessary in his quest for trophies. For example, on January 31 against Memphis, a driving Kobe fell directly into the knee of starting Laker Center Andrew Bynum under the Grizzlies' basket. On the replay, you can see Bynum's knee was bent straight back. As he's writhing on the floor, Kobe looks at him. I'm no psychologist, but see for yourself. His expression is more "Dammit. There goes the effing title" than it was "Oh man, I just hurt my teammate. I hope he's okay." See for yourself.

Yeah, Kobe is relentless and tireless in his pursuit of victory. Yes, Kobe's work ethic is legendary.

But to what end?

The Logo's View of Life
Jerry West, the man who while in the Laker front office was responsible for drafting Kobe said that it was this insatiable need to win that made him want to draft the 17-year-old kid.

The same Jerry West who famously quipped that basketball comes down to either winning or misery.

Misery.

Misery?

Really, Jerry. That's misery? Losing? At basketball. You obviously don't know what the word "misery" means. Go to Africa sometime, pal.

And this to me is the fundamental problem, and why I could never be a fan of Kobe. He takes basketball, he takes his work, he takes his career too seriously. For Kobe, not winning is misery. It eats him up. It drives and motivates him.

And this is the problem. Kobe thinks that winning is the point of life.

This is his life's message. This is what he says, what he shouts, every time he steps on the court, whether he gives a pre-game interview or not. Winning is life.

Religion and Sports Don't Mix
Contrast this to Dwight Howard. During the telecast, ABC did a brief interview with Dwight Howard, whose two missed free throws not only cost the Magic Game 4, but also a realistic shot at the title. As much as these Finals catapulted Howard into the NBA Elite, his colossal free-throw misses in Game 4 were the most direct factor in the Magic's soul-crushing defeat. This is what Howard said:

"I kept thinking, I lost the game. I lost the game for us. And the Lord kept telling me, "No, don't think that way."

Now, I've been watching sports as a rather rabid fan for about 15 years now. I've heard dozens of players give a shout-out to God. I've heard some be more specific, giving their shout-outs specifically to Jesus. I even heard Larry Johnson thank Allah after his 4-point play in New York in 1999.

But I've never heard a player (not even one as devout as David Robinson) admit that the Lord spoke to them about their performance on the court. Let alone that God encouraged them. Let alone that God encouraged them in a devastating, series-ending, title-chance-dashing failure.

You'd think that God would say something like, "You get paid 20-million a year, this is your JOB and you can't hit one of two from the line? Are you kidding me? Seriously, are you kidding me?"

But that's not apparently (allegedly?) what God said. Apparently, God said, "Don't think that way."

And this makes sense. Because God has a knack for turning failure around.

Dwight Howard might never win an NBA title. This might be as close as he'll ever get. But he seems to have something that Kobe never will.

Peace.

And that's worth more than 4 trophies.

Your Closely Cropped Hair Just Screams "Jesus"

1:12 p.m. A conversation I just had in the San Jose airport while checking in at the American Airlines terminal. While checking in, the clerk asked if I was a member of the US military, only I didn't hear her properly, so when I heard the word "service" I thought she recognized me from church, which does happen from time to time.

AA Clerk
How many bags will you be checking.

Me:
Just this one, thanks.

AA Clerk
Can I ask you a question. You aren't by chance *something unintelligible*

Me:
I'm sorry. I missed that last part.

AA Clerk:
The service?

Me:
The service?
(thinking she might have recognized me from church)

AA Clerk:
Yes

Me:
Oh, yes, I...I'm from FCC.

AA Clerk
Is that where you're going?

Me:
No, it's where I came from. I'm going to Chicago.

AA Clerk
Oh, well, then we'll just waive the baggage fee.

Me:
Really?

AA Clerk:
That's our policy.

Me:
Wow. Really?

AA Clerk
Yes. (pause) You know, I saw you and I thought you might be. You just had a look about you.

Me:
Oh. What?

AA Clerk
It's probably your hair cut.

Me:
*confused*

AA Clerk
What branch are you?

Me:
Oh, we're non-denominational. Have you been to FCC?

AA Clerk
*confused*
What?

Me:
FCC. Family Community Church. I'm a pastor there.

AA Clerk:
What? No, I meant what branch of the military.

Me:
*as it dawns on me*

It took about 2 more minutes for me to explain myself. And it will probably take a few more more hours for me to stop feeling like the dumbest person in the world.

*sigh*

The Josh Hamilton Story...

Not too long ago, Josh Hamilton was a crack-addicted ex-phenom who'd lost everything. He had been banned from Major League Baseball, lost his wife, his kids - everything. Last year, he went to Yankee Stadium as one of the leading vote getters for the MLB All-Star Game. Tonight at 7 p.m. on ESPN, Hamilton tells his story to award-winning sports journalist Rick Reilly.

Here's what Reilly wrote about his interview with Hamilton:

I've been covering sports for 31 years, but I've never come across a comeback story like baseball slugger Josh Hamilton's.

I write the words but I still can't imagine living them. Superstar high school player. Drafted No. 1 overall by the Tampa Bay Rays. Minor League Player of the Year in his first season. Then an injury. Then his first sip of alcohol. Then his first line of coke. Then baggies full of it. Then his first hit of crack. Then a willingness to sell out everything he loved -- including his career, his wife, his kids, his friends and his parents -- to keep smoking it. Sleeping on the floor of crack houses. Banned from his own home, his parents' home, his friends' homes. Banned from baseball -- indefinitely. Knocks on the door of the last place that will take him in -- his grandmother's quaint, white house -- and is somehow saved, soup spoon by soup spoon, Bible verse by Bible verse, tunneling his way through the ache and the grit and the cold sweat with a strength that must've come from somewhere even he couldn't imagine. Then trying baseball again. Cleaning toilets to play it again. Getting his chance again. Making it all the way back to the major leagues again. Coming to Yankee Stadium as the leading AL outfield vote-getter. Entering the Home Run Derby. And then hitting 28 home runs in a row to places even Yankees have never hit the ball. And as the fans chanted Ham-il-ton, it hit you that the man had made a journey you just never see -- from glory to gutter to glory again.

And so, in front of a crowd of 1,500 in his old high school in Raleigh, N.C., I asked him about all of that on "Homecoming." And he never ducked a question. He let me flay him open like a fish on the rocks. No, that's wrong. He didn't just let me, he invited me. He wanted it all out there, forever, maybe so there was no going back. And as his beautiful wife sat there with his gorgeous daughters and his tearful parents, I realized I had to ask him the question. We hadn't rehearsed it, but I had to ask it. "Everybody you disappointed, everybody you hurt, everybody you stole from, is right in front of you right now," I think I said. "Is there something you'd like to say to them?" And I heard my producer "gulp" in my ear. And I saw him stare at me for a second and swallow. And you could've driven a Mack truck through the silence, but then he said "yes" and slowly swiveled his chair toward them. And he pulled his chest up and apologized to all of them, to all 1,500 of them, for what he'd done. And he thanked them for helping him make it back.

I don't know how long we'll make "Homecoming" or how many lives we'll celebrate, but it will be hard to top a moment like that.

What caused this astounding change in a guy who - by all statistical odds - should either be dead or in jail? What caused the most dramatic turn-around that celebrated columnist Rick Reilly has ever seen?

Well, according to Hamilton, it was Jesus.

Hamilton was a guy who needed a Savior. Thankfully, he found one.

Religion Spectators
I don't know what your views are of Jesus. Or what your views are of people who talk about Jesus.

But here's something I know: most people are spectators when it comes to religion.

I live in an area of the world where most people would describe themselves as decidedly non-religious. Sunday is a day for washing one’s car, or gardening, or simply reading the New York Times while sipping coffee as morning turns to late morning.

For the vast majority of people where I live, religion is something they’ve most definitely thought about. Maybe even argued about. Certainly it’s something they’ve had encounters with, usually in the form of some abrasive blowhard on some network news show (where does FOX News get these people?). Some are recovering Catholics who get into arguments with their devout mothers when they decide to hold their wedding outside, instead of in the cathedral. Some have even been wounded by cruel religious people.

But they’re still spectators when it comes to religion.

Seeing as how this is the most educated area in the world, most have read books about the history of religion. Like my father-in-law. He engages in macro-philosophy. Many people in this area do. All religions, they say to me (some smugly), say pretty much the same thing. Be nice. Don’t kill. Try hard to be good. God will reward you if you do this.

When they encounter people who are deeply religious, they say things like, “You say that your path is the only way to the top. But if you could just get some perspective, you’d see that your path up the mountain is winding toward the same pinnacle as this other religion over here, and this other religion over here.”

But there’s a real arrogance in that sentiment. It assumes that they’re not even part of the journey. They’re not on the mountain with everyone else. They’re in a plane or a zeppelin somewhere miles above, circling the mountain as they watch their human colleagues trudge through life while they observe from afar – from the true perspective.

Spectators.

But.

But.

There’s a danger in being a spectator.

There are some things in life in which inaction and indecision is simply not a legitimate choice.

Switzerland might be famed for its neutrality, but when Nazis are burning children, now is not the time to consider the effect of choosing sides on your ability to be an effective world banker.

And for Josh Hamilton, the question of religion - the question of Jesus - wasn't one that was an academic or philosophical dilemma.

This was his life in the balance.

Josh Hamilton couldn't afford to be a spectator on the issue of God. He had a choice. Despair and Addiction for the rest of his life - or believe Jesus when he says that God is like a Father who is not only active in the world, but literally dying to help you live the best possible life.

For Hamilton, religion isn't a spectator sport.

And that's why I respect the guy.

And the thing is, he might seem uncommon, but really, I've seen his story a thousand times in my life. I see it played out before me almost every week. Hamilton's story is incredibly similar to my story, to my wife's story, to my best friend's story - it's basically the same story I've seen lived out hundreds of times.

"Taste and see that the Lord is good," the psalmist says. "If you are thirsty," Jesus says, "I will give you water so that you will never thirst again."

Big promise.

Big invitation.

My Son's Future Wife...

This picture was taken by our close friend Gina Rodriquez, who snapped this picture of her youngest daughter Bella at Half Moon Bay on Easter Sunday, 2009. The whole thing was Bella's idea.

Attention world: meet Bella Rodriquez. Bella is the future wife of my son. So everyone else, back off.

Rodriquez Family: I have 30 camels and 400 pieces of silver for you. I trust this will suffice.

One liberated an entire people from enslavement and an evil dictator - the other was a Biblical figure....

This past Easter, our family say down to watch the movie Prince of Egypt. Nicole and I figured it was a good non-4-hour, non-Charlton Heston way to illustrate and show Justus the story of Passover. Which obviously ties into Jesus.

At any rate, immediately afterward, Justus picked up a dowel rod that we use as a brace for our sliding glass door and began walking around with it.

"Look at me!" Justus said, proudly walking with his "rod" which was roughly as tall as him.

"Are you like Moses?" Nicole asked.

"Noooooo," Justus said, matter-of-factly, as if we were dumb for asking. "I'm Yoda."

That fact that my son just turned four and has working knowledge of the life and works of both Moses and Yoda makes my heart soar in ways you cannot imagine.

Now, if you'll excuse me, it's bedtime and I have to begin training my son on the finer points of the Apostle Paul and Boba Fett.

Your One Stop-Shopping For Pirate Solutions

*Editor's Note:* I wanted to direct your attention to Missy Takano's blog. Missy is the sister of one of my best friends, Ben Van Meter. Her last name used to be Missy until she turned Japanese.

At any rate, Missy has some good thoughts about the International Piracy issue developing off the coast of Somalia. She's proposed some real, workable solutions. The following is my comment to her.

Missy,

I'm sorry. Your post was too violent for me to read. I think in the future you should tell people before they read it that it's rated ARRRRRRR.

(I am so sorry I made that joke).

But seriously, my favorite line: It’s hard to fire off a grenade launcher when your hand is impaled by a well-delivered shuriken.

Second favorite line: (and scurvy, because the parrots will eat all the fruit).

Ahh, the good old "Let's Deprive Them of Vitamin C and after a few months and they're tired and lethargic, let's see how good a fight they put up" strategy.

Other thoughts: why not send a Kraken? Perhaps that's too risky and unpredictable. You never know what you're going to get - kind of like trying to work with the Frankenstein, the Hulk, or Rosie O'Donnel.

Or we could send a swarm of those uber-smart, genetically-modified Mako sharks from the movie "Deep Blue Sea." (side note: I am still mad at them for not eating LL Cool J when they had the chance.)

Speaking of music, why not surround the pirate ships with giant boats with massive speakers, and play Barry Manilow non-stop. Hey, if it works on unruly teens in Australia...

Of course, if things get really desperate, we will switch from the easy-listening sounds of Barry Manilow to something more insidious. Milli Vanilli, perhaps, Ace of Base, or...even...*gulp* TubThumping by ChumbaWumba.

We'll have to check with the US District Attorney to ensure that's not some sort of violation of Geneva Convention regulations or Maritime code. For example, I know it is illegal to play the song "Barbie Girl" in international waters. But we can come up with something. Billy Ray Cyrus, or Barbara Streisand's version of "Jingle Bells" or something.

Missy, you and I should really be commissioned by our commander-in-chief President Obama to form a Piracy Neutralization Task Force. I know that we could solve this problem just by working HAARRRRR-D.

DAT

Let's Talk About Sex...

The Task:
During a sermon series on sex and sexuality, my job was to illustrate the concept of sexual temptation, especially in regard to single people.

The Concept:
After a few rewrites, we landed on the idea of a guy preparing for a nice date, only to be hounded by his altar ego, who like the proverbial "Devil-on-the-shoulder" keeps suggesting that he abandon his principles.

The Players:
Jeff Bernstein (as Marcus), Ian Liardon (as the Altar Ego) and Michelle Sagor (as Diana).

My Favorite Part:
Three. Ian dancing to Marvin Gaye. Ian going to grab Michelle's butt, and the fact that I was able to work in a reference to both Color Me Badd and the pottery scene in Ghost in one script.

You can view it on YouTube by clicking below. Or, if you'd like, you can view it in a higher resolution by clicking here.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies

I don't know if this is creative, or a sign of the Apocalypse. Austen redone, only this time with zombies.

What is the opening line?

"It is a truth universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more human brains."

From Amazon's description:

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies features the original text of Jane Austen's beloved novel with all-new scenes of bone-crunching zombie action. As our story opens a mysterious plague has fallen upon the quiet English village of Meryton and the dead are returning to life! Feisty heroine Elizabeth Bennet is determined to wipe out the zombie menace but she's soon distracted by the arrival of the haughty and arrogant Mr. Darcy. What ensues is a delightful comedy of manners with plenty of civilized sparring between the two young lovers and even more violent sparring on the blood-soaked battlefield as Elizabeth wages war against hordes of flesh-eating undead.

*sigh*