Robin Hood + John the Baptist

Growing up, my parents invested in a set of 12 books called "Great Illustrated Classics." Great books. Pictures on every other page. Half-comic book, half-serious literature.

My favorite book of the 12 - bar none - was Robin Hood. I think every young boy loves Robin Hood. The idea of this wily, crafty bandit with exceptional powers of archery outsmarting his dastardly foes in order to redistribute immorally seized resources from corrupt local governments strikes at the heart of every blooming economist...er...boy.

My favorite chapter in the book was when Robin’s third in command, Will Scarlet, is captured by the villainous Sheriff of Nottigham. Knowing that killing Scarlet would demoralize Robin Hood’s band, the Sheriff plans to hang the man for treason. But the Sheriff also feels as though killing Scarlet publicly could draw Robin Hood out into the open, so he sets a trap for him, just in case he tries something.

Of course, because he’s Robin Hood, he has to go attempt to save Will Scarlet’s life. The men dress up like friars, in brown robes and mill about inconspicuously among the crowd. But they can’t move too soon, or their cover will be blown.

Scarlet is led to the gallows. His young face feverishly scans across the massive crowd for signs of hope – signs of familiar faces, a signal that help has come and will rescue him.

But he sees no such sign. Terror overwhelms him as he is pushed off the platform. The rope around his neck grows taut and Scarlet knows that no help is coming to save him. His close calls have finally caught up with him.

At that moment, Robin Hood blows his horn. The men spring into action. Robin Hood draws his longbow and lets fly a single arrow. It soars through the air, lancing the rope holding Will Scarlet’s flailing body. Scarlet drops to down, right into the arms of Little John, who is in a wagon, galloping past the gallows.

The guards attempt to stop the Band the Thieves but it is no use. Once again, they have been outsmarted.

This scene resonates with me for a number of reasons. First off, it speaks to the heroism and dedication that all young men dream of in their friends. We all long to belong to a devoted band of friends willing to all risk their life for you, if it came to that.

But secondly, it reminds us that in the end, Good wins. Even when it looks like Evil is going to win, Good will come through with a daring, last minute rescue.

How This Relates to the Bible

So, how does this relate to the Bible? Well, I am in the process of reading through the New Testament using a Bible companion called the “Jewish New Testament” written by Rabbi David Stern (not the NBA Commissioner, but a devout Jew who came to accept that Christ really was the Messiah after studying the life of Jesus).

So, right now, I am in Matthew 11. I didn’t say I was very far.

Anyway, reading through that, I came across this passage, which has always perplexed me a bit.

Matthew 11
1After Jesus had finished instructing his twelve disciples, he went on from there to teach and preach in the towns of Galilee. 2When John heard in prison what Christ was doing, he sent his disciples 3to ask him, "Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?"

Now, this verse makes me say "Wha-what" for a number of reasons. First off, there’s no way that John the Baptist really needs to know the answer to this question. He was there when Jesus was baptized and a loud voice said, from the sky, “This is my son, with whom I am well pleased.”

If that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.

Also, it says that John knew Jesus in utero. In Luke 1, it says:

39A few days later Mary hurried to the hill country of Judea, to the town 40where Zechariah lived. She entered the house and greeted Elizabeth. 41At the sound of Mary's greeting, Elizabeth's child leaped within her, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit.

So clearly, John doesn’t need any additional information that Jesus is the Messiah. So what is going on here?

Stern says it’s code. According to all the old Rabbis who had combed the Scriptures, there were 7 Key Things that the Messiah was definitely going to do. These things were all taught because the Rabbis wanted to make sure good Jewish boys and girls could grow up to recognize the Messiah when He came. Those seven things were.

1. Make the blind see (Isaiah 35:5, 29:18)
2. Make the lame walk (Isaiah 35:6, 61:1)
3. Make the deaf hear (Isaiah 35:5, 29:18)
4. Raise the dead/Heaven with Life (Isaiah 11)
5. Help the poor (Isaiah 61:1)
6. Heal the infirm/sick (Isaiah 61:1)
7. Free the captives (Isaiah 61:1)

Notice the last one. Free the captives.

John was asking, in code, “Are you going to rescue me, because it’s not looking too good and I even hear they might think about killing me if they get the chance.”

He was saying, “If I go to the hangman’s noose, can I count on you to save me?”

What’s amazing to me is the response of Jesus. Look what He says.

4Jesus replied, "Go back and report to John what you hear and see: 5The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor. 6Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me."

Jesus goes though every single one of the signs of the Messiah. But He leaves one out. He leaves out the Free the Captives. In code, Jesus responds to the question of John the Baptist by saying, “No. No, you won’t be rescued.”

Sometimes, God doesn't save us in the way that we expect. Sometimes, God doesn't show up in the way that we would have planned. Sometimes, cancer wins. Sometimes, AIDS wins. Sometimes, she leaves and there's nothing you can do about it.

But Jesus goes on to say that among those born of man, John the Baptist is the greatest. But that even the least in the Kingdom of Heaven are greater than he was. Why? John the Baptist was the greatest because he came at the end of a long line of prophets, but he alone got to actually see and speak with God incarnate.

But John didn't have something that all of us have: the knowledge of the end of the story.

John didn't know that God would lay down his life for all of us.

John didn't know that Jesus would conquer the one obstacle that no man had ever been able to defeat: death.

John didn't know that in the end, love wins.

But we do.

And that should give us hope.

Losing My Religion

Losing My Religion by William Lobdell
A Book Review of a Very Good Book and Some Thoughts on My Own Faith Experience With Jesus

By David Tieche

Some Brief Background:

A few weeks ago, my friend Justin gave me a book to read. “Read this,” he said. “It’s kind of messing me up a bit. I want you to read it and tell me what you think.”

This worried me. You see, Justin is one of my favorite people in this world. There are certain people in this world who I think are made of the same fabric. That’s Justin and I. He and I think very similarly about life and faith. We’re followers of Jesus for nearly the same reasons. Our stories, our backgrounds and our personalities are eerily similar and the things that drive us UP THE WALL about Christians the Church are also nearly identical. If I were Filipino, and could dance, I would swear we were related.

So when he said this book was “messing with him” I knew I had to read it.

Outsiders vs. Insiders
Now, I’ve read lots of books critical of Christianity. Some are written by “outsiders” who point out some glaring faults with religious systems. They really dislike church, and think the world would be better if most religious people just stopped breathing.

Some of these books are written by “insiders” who are equally critical, but from a reformer’s perspective. They love the Church, and want to see it live up to its ideals. They see the problem as a cancer that can and should be excised. Both groups throw stones, many of which are well-deserved.

That being said, I don’t tend to sympathize with the “outsiders” very much. As Augustine once said, the church might be a whore, but she is my mother. And you don’t talk about someone’s mother that way. The sense of disrespect from those outside the community of faith was too palpable. The anti-religious tenor of their works dismissed religious people using broad – and unfair strokes. They dismissed me so I felt justified – to a certain extent – in dismissing them. Plus, anyone who makes blanket statements like, “religion is mythology” and “the world is better off without religion” is reframing human history in an entirely inaccurate way . Their thinking is off. I’m not sure they’re to be trusted. Like people who really like country music.

This was most decidedly NOT the story of William Lobdell.

Born To Write This Stuff

A brief background on Lobdell.

1. While in his late 20s, Lobdell faced a crisis in his own life. He was directionless, his marriage was in shambles, he was drinking and partying to avoid responsibility and to numb out on the pain of his own life.

2. A close friend talked to him about Jesus, and he started attending church

3. There, he encountered not only people of faith, but a story about a God who loved him and wanted to help him put his life back together.

4. Thirsty for more information about this God, he attended Bible studies for many weeks and months, listening to powerful, effective evangelical Pastors teach him everything they knew about the Bible.

5. He was in a men’s group, and attended men’s retreats where guys talked about their failings, and how Jesus could help them.

6. He thought hard about tough issues.

7. He read all the Christian classic books. Their arguments made sense to him, or at least, put forth a legitimate world view.

8. He finally gave his life to Jesus.

9. He attended church for years and was a member of an evangelical mega-church which he liked very much.

10. So did his kids.

11. He started thinking about his own life and purpose.

12. He realized as a journalist, there was a gaping hole in the LA Times’ coverage of religion.

13. Most religion reporters didn’t understand faith, or matters of faith, or people of faith.

14. Lobdell came to think that he could use his considerable mind and considerable writing talents to write about religion and cover matters of faith for the LA Times community.

15. Additionally, since the LA Times was filled with reporters and editors who were mostly unreligious or even anti-religious, it was an opportunity to not only balance out coverage of religious things in the Times, but also change the culture of the newsroom with his colleagues.

16. While covering religion during the mid-90s, Lobdell won several national journalism awards.

17. Lobdell began thinking that his purpose in life, the reason he was made by God, was to cover religion in an intelligent and sensitive manner for his community.

18. He encountered many stirring people of faith who did (and have done) many incredible things.

19. His own faith in God continued to grow and develop as he wrote story after story about how religion intersected the real world in powerful and profound ways.

That’s Me in the Corner
The point is, Lobdell was most decidedly an “insider.” As I read the opening chapters, I realized that I trusted this guy. He understood things. If he had something to say about Christianity and Jesus, then I was going to listen.

Which is why it surprised me, on page 213, after this long and stirring journey that was markedly similar to mine, that Lobdell stopped believing.

Just stopped.

Right there on page 213.


***** *******


Why Lobdell Lost His Faith

There were a number of reasons why Lobdell lost his faith.

Reason 1: He saw that Christians, as a group, don’t really act any differently than anyone else.

As a religion reporter and a Christian, Lobdell wanted to see that people were changed in a fundamental ways by their belief in Jesus. The Apostle Paul makes a number of claims in the New Testament about someone who chooses to follow Christ. One of them is that “you will be transformed.”

Yet, the more he studied it, the more Lobdell found that Christians (as a group) behave nearly identical to their non-Christian or non-religious counterparts. This has been widely documented by a number of researchers, most notably George Barna…

• Those who call themselves Christians are no more likely than non-Christians to correct the mistake when a cashier gives them too much change.


• Those who call themselves Christians are just as likely to have an elective abortion as a non-Christian


• Those who call themselves Christians divorce at the same rates as those who don’t consider themselves Christians.

In all, when the Barna Research Group did a survey of 152 separate different items comparing the general population to those who self-identify as Christians, they found virtually no difference in attitudes, in behaviors or actions.

Christian scholar Ronald J. Sider, in his 2007 book “The Scandal of the Evangelical Conscience” which won Christianity Today’s coveted “Book of the Year” award had this to say:

Whether the issue is divorce, materialism, sexual promiscuity, racism, physical abuse in marriage, or neglect of a Biblical worldview, the polling data point to widespread, blatant disobedience of clear Biblical demands on the part of the people who allegedly are evangelical, born-again Christians. The statistics are devastating.

The issue isn’t whether Jesus is true. It’s whether Americans are willing to put Jesus first in the lives.

The answer, overwhelmingly, is “no.”

Reason 2: He saw, first-hand, perhaps more than any other person alive, the evil perpetuated and then covered up by the Catholic Church sexual abuse scandal.

If you are having doubts about God, you don’t want to find yourself on St. Michael Island, Alaska, where a single Catholic missionary raped an entire generation of Alaska native boys. You don’t want to find yourself in 12-step support groups filled with people whose emotional lives have been destroyed by abuse at the hands of clergy they trusted. You don’t want to hear the graphic stories.

But even more, you don’t want to go digging into the details about how the Catholic Church not only had full-knowledge of these predatory priests, but actively took steps to cover-up the abuses, quietly shuttling off the “offending priests” to other diocese, where the same cycles happened again.

This is the kind of thing that can give you serious doubts about those who act in the name of Christ. And yet - this is exactly what Lobdell did. He wrote story after story about the abuses. He career was defined and he won multiple journalism awards for his coverage of the scandal.

But this kind of thing takes its toll. An example. One of the chief prosecutors on the case was John “Mad Dog” Manly. His job was to track down witnesses and victims, then gather reports and testimony from people who had been abused to build a case against the Catholic diocese. Listening to story after story about these cases had long-term affects on Manly’s personal life.

His blood-pressure spiked to dangerously high levels. He couldn’t sleep at night. He descended into depression and a deep, seething anger that nearly ruined his family. He fled to alcohol and found no relief. While driving down the Pacific Coast Highway one day, Manly began planning how he would kill himself. He began working out the details, until he suddenly realized what he was doing. That realization scared him into an intensive, multi-year counseling program that saved his career, his family and his life. But it couldn’t save his faith.

When you spend that much time with that much darkness, you might have a hard time believing that there is really a God who cares. And this is what slowly happened to Lobdell.

Reason 3: Prayer of Righteous People Didn’t Seem to Work

The major issue that Lobdell wrestled with is “why don’t the prayers of righteous people cause bad situations to change?”

In the Book of Matthew, in the 21st Chapter, Jesus says, “If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.”

So why, Lobdell, kept asking himself, didn’t God do more physical intervention on Earth to help those who desperately needed His help? Psalm 97 says:

Let those who love the Lord hate evil,
for he guards the lives of his faithful ones
and delivers them from the hand of the wicked.

So why didn’t that happen? Why weren’t the people he was interviewing who had been abused by agents of the church get protected?

Lobdell’s faith was shaken to even more extreme levels after the tsunami in 2004, in which 225,000 people died. People who survived thanked God for His providence. But what about the quarter-million people who died and God didn’t help?

For Lobdell, this was a deal-breaker of trust. It showed, statistically, that God really doesn’t show up to help His children.

And so there, on page 213, Lobdell lost his faith. A 10-year journey with God terminated in a dead-end. God was made up. He wrote:

It was becoming harder and harder for me to fit my idea of a loving, personal God into the reality of the world in which I lived. The simplest explanation kept boomeranging back to me: there was no God.

My Letter To William Lobdell

Dear William,

I wanted to say thank you for writing your book Losing My Religion. You are a skillful writer, and I found your honesty utterly refreshing. I don’t know if this matters to you as an author, but I found your story so compelling that I read the book in one sitting, highlighter in one hand, diet Coke in the other. I was hating life when my daughter woke up at 7:30 the next morning and I had to get up with her, but the book was so provocative that I didn’t mind.

Thank you for your transparency in telling the story of your faith

It’s funny: your memoir was so deeply personal that I felt as though I got to know you. This was fundamentally one-sided, of course. You don’t know me from Adam. So I guess, for this scenario, I’m Stan and you’re Eminem (only without the whole “drive the car off the bridge” thing).

So a few things about me. I’m a pastor at a large non-denominational church (about 4,000 people) in San Jose. I’m 33 years old. I’m married, and I have two kids. For four years in college, I worked at the campus newspaper, both as a reporter and an editor, and so I have a deep love for journalism. And I read your book. So I think I’m probably in a rare sub-set of people: pro-journalist Christian pastor who enjoyed reading a book about a guy who lost his faith in Jesus.

I wanted to write to you for three reasons:

1. Because I felt a connection to your journey, I wanted to articulate how much your book resonated with me and how much I appreciated it.

2. Because I wanted to offer some encouragement to you (in case you think that there are no religious people who “get you” or understand your situation).

3. Because I wanted to make a personal promise to you in light of your book and its themes.

The Last Thing the World Needs is More Christians
As a pastor, the bulk of my life’s energies are spent attempting to convince people to take Jesus and his teachings seriously. This is very difficult, and the vast majority of people in my city and a good number in my church decide not to follow the teachings of Jesus. Jesus makes many demands on our lives. "It's not that Christianity has been tried and found untrue," the great British humorist G.K. Chesterton once said, "It's that it's been tried and found difficult."

I lament (as you did) that so many people who self-identify with the name “Christian” live so cavalierly in direct disobedience of the teachings of the Bible and Jesus. In fact, I have largely stopped using the word “Christian” and I have stopped inviting people to be “Christians.” The word "Christian" no longer means "to live like Jesus." It does not mean to sacrifice everything you are to see God’s dreams fulfilled. As it stands now, the behavior of non-Christians and those who profess to be Christians is not different. Who would want to be associated with that? The last thing the world needs is more Christians. It needs me (and all others who identify as followers) to take our creeds and lives more seriously.

A Reason, Not an Excuse
I wanted to offer you a reason for this. Not an excuse, mind you, but a reason. I think that the main reason for this is poor leadership within the church. You saw, in your time reporting for the LA Times, utterly atrocious leadership. Although I’ve never seen anything like this, I do know that the church has not always called its people and challenged its people the way that Jesus did. Jesus simply said, “Follow Me.” And they did. And the world was changed.

The message of most American churches on Sunday – is not the same as the message and challenge of Jesus. There is much need for improvement in the American church in this area. Ghandi once said, “I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ.” Even Richard Dawkins said that he wanted to start a group “Athiests for Jesus. So your observation that Christians are unlike Christ is an important one. This is also a great passion of mine, and one to which I will probably devote my life.

A Dream Deferred:
One more thought, I came out to California in 2001 as part of Teach For America which recruited me from Ohio to teach in an under-resourced, under-performing high school in the San Jose Unified School District. I worked in a very difficult environment, professionally. Our school had a large number of students who were what I’d call actively resistant to learning. They’d had so many bad experiences with school and with teachers that they viewed school as only slightly less oppressive than prison.

And yet, there I was. In front of 30 chairs filled with 30 different students every hour on the hour, attempting to get them to care about American Literature. Or about literature or art in general. Or about themselves and their own minds and thoughts. Or about their own education.

This was a very tough job. And I didn’t often succeed. Most of my students never read a page of “Huckleberry Finn” or completed their essay on a personal epiphany.

But just because – by and large – I was unable to motivate the majority of my students to succeed or take themselves and their academic future seriously does not mean that the task was not worthwhile. Nor does it mean that the few who decided to run with me were not irrevocably changed. This is what teachers – and pastors – hang onto during the lean times. Just because so few follow doesn’t mean that the adventure isn’t breath-taking.

Life with Jesus really is incredible. If I were your friend, I’d continue to repeat this mantra as often as you’d let me.


A Question For You
Secondly, I wanted to ask you more personal question. It revolves around your profession as a journalist. I have always had a soft spot for journalism. All through college, my second home was the campus newspaper where I was both a reporter and an editor. I interned for a number of major newspapers, and always fancied myself being a good reporter.

In marriage, therapists sometimes talk about “disproportionate focus” where you spend all your time and energy focusing on what’s wrong with your mate. You fixate on the 15 percent that’s wrong instead of the 85 percent that’s right. And in the process, your perspective gets skewed.

I don’t mean to oversimplify, but I wonder if your experience with the Catholic Abuse Scandal was like that for you. It seems to me that you descended into the depths of human wickedness and spent a good deal of time there. Your friend and colleague John “Mad Dog” Manly nearly lost his sanity because of the same situation.

I wonder if that’s what caused you to lose your faith. In my profession, I see a lot of the bad stuff, but I also see some glorious moments. It’s probably about 70/30. But that 30 percent keeps me going. I wonder if in the process of becoming non-religious, you didn’t find those people or those moments, or if you stopped looking for them or if they were overshadowed.

I hope this doesn’t sound like I’m attempting to come up with a “pat answer” for why you lost your faith. I just wondered if you had any further perspective on it. You said in your book that faith wasn’t a choice…it was just something that wasn’t in you anymore. I just wondered if your experience being mired in that muck was something you considered a causal agent.

A Personal Promise to You
I wanted to do one last thing. It seemed only appropriate to do so, in light of your book. For me, by far, the most jarring and powerful paragraph in your book came on page 103, where you describe your battle with newspaper editors to use more graphic and accurate descriptions. You wrote:

I learned that the media’s terms “sexual abuse” and “molestation” were far too neutral to describe what happened to most of these people. The church had even shied away from those terms, preferring instead such Orwellian language as “boundary violation” and “inappropriate conduct.”

The more descriptive words in my copy were always changed….I just think that the very idea of priests sodomizing a boy on an altar until he defecates, or plunging an aspersorium, used to sprinkle holy water, into a girl’s vagina, or a little boy hiding his bloody underwear from his mother was too much for even jaded journalists to consider.”

This paragraph made me weep. I had – for all the accounts I read of the scandal – never heard it put that way.

I believe that I felt – for a mere second – what you must have felt like for months and months.

So I wanted to make this promise to you. Because you were brave enough to write those words, I want to honor that with a promise to you.

Twice in my time volunteering with youth in the church and serving as a Pastor (which runs from 1999-2009), I have twice encountered situations where teenagers have approached me in confidence about being sexually abused by adults. Twice, I have worked with the families and the local authorities to not only get immediate help for the victim through family and individual counseling, but also have worked with local law enforcement agencies to bring the offending parties to justice. Twice, I’ve testified or submitted signed affidavits and legal testimony. Twice, predatory adults were brought to justice and put behind bars. Twice, as a result of the trial, scores of other victims came forward and were finally able to begin the healing process themselves.

My promise to you is this: as a pastor, I have worked hard and will always continue to work hard to create a climate where two things are always happening:

1. I recruit highly moral, highly relational adults who are willing to do the necessary leg-work to make sure that we all have built enough trust with teenagers that they are comfortably approaching us about any issue and that


2. Those adults will see it as our sacred charge (by God) to protect our students and be an advocate for them.

As a result of seeking to create these two conditions, two sexual predators are behind bars. I’m not saying I’m a hero – the real courageous ones are the students who come forward – but I am saying that it’s possible for the church to act in precisely the way that honors the teachings of Jesus – in the exact opposite way that the Catholic Diocese acted.

My church is also filled with people and run by pastors and volunteers who consider themselves “mandated reporters of the law” and who view their role legally as agents of the state in cases of abuse. Our job is not to investigate the validity of the claims, but simply report to agencies that do investigate. We’ve done this many times as a staff and as a church.

We will continue to do so. That’s my promise to you. I need you to know that your outrage over the inaction of the Catholic Church is shared by me (and all of our pastors). We share that deeply held conviction with you. It’s important for me that you know that.

One Final Note
Lastly, you wrote in your book (on page 213) about a certain cognitive dissonance, where you couldn’t reconcile the pain you were seeing with the idea of an all-loving God. I feel as though page 213 is where you finally “lost your religion.”

I wonder if you have ever read the book “The Shack” by William P. Young. I’m not sure if you even have an interest in such things anymore, but it seems to me that the vast majority of your questions about Jesus and God center around wondering if God actually cares or acts. Young’s book centers around a man named Mack, whose daughter is kidnapped, then sexually abused and then ruthlessly killed by a serial rapist. The rest of the book is God attempting to reconnect with Mack to help him heal. God goes through extraordinary lengths to get to Mack, mainly because God very much loves Mack. Mack doesn’t want much to do with God. After all, he blames God for not protecting his baby girl, and that anger and distrust of his “heavenly father” was the dominant emotion driving his life. And it nearly destroyed him.

The book, which chronicles God’s encounter with Mack, is the best thing I’ve ever read to help answer the problem of pain in this world and God’s seeming inattention and apathy. Maybe it would help you. It certainly helped me.

At any rate, thanks for writing what you did.

Appreciatively yours.

David A. Tieche

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.