Wednesday Wisdom

Yikes, it's been almost exactly a month since I posted. 

Not that the world is desperately clamoring for my perspectives on things, but I do intend to be disciplined with regular posts here. 

In my defense, I'm working through my third week battling pneumonia. I feel like the worst is over thanks to antibiotics and meds. 

It has certainly thrown me for a loop though. And I've certainly had extra time to take stock of things and think through lessons and reminders God may be wanting to show me.

Here are a few:

• Rest is both good and essential. Unsurprisingly, this illness has made me tired and worn out on a daily basis. That's kind of what pneumonia does. Thankfully my wife allowed me to take extra naps often at random times and away from the chaos of our toddler boys. I was mostly home-bound and had to miss two Sundays at church as well. It was good to have a break in my regular routine. It was good to remember there are limits to my energy and capacity to do things. Busy-ness is not a fruit of the spirit. Sabbath rest is still a critical principle of discipleship. It allows for both my body and spirit to heal and recharge.
  
  
• My church is filled with capable people. I love the smaller community God has placed us at. And when this illness set in, the last-minute prep was fairly smooth. Responsibilities got covered, sermons were preached, fellowship still happened. My church needs me, but they don't NEED me.
  
  
• I need to accept my newer, older identity. Ever since I was a kid, I had above average athletic endurance ability. That's very specific but here's what I mean. I always found myself able to run long distances or play sports for long periods of time without feeling like I was dying of fatigue. I was usually one of the top runners in the elementary gym class mile run they always had us run. I had fun playing basketball for long hours and found myself able to keep my energy up when others tired. In addition to basketball, I ran track in college and though the season was already underway, I was able to be fairly successful at the 400 hurdles (an ideal race for someone who isn't speedy fast, doesn't have time to build up endurance for long races, but can do a little bit of both). Even after my college years, I stayed active regularly playing recreational basketball, slow pitch softball, and staying in semi-decent shape. As I've hit my late 30's and now into my 40's, I've noticed more physical limitations. It is harder to stay in shape and other family priorities get in the way of those activities I once participated in. And now this pneumonia really made reality set in. I could barely chase my boys around the living room without having to catch my breath. Bouncing back from being winded has been hard. Now I hope to be able to stay in some kind of active shape once this is past. But I'm more and more resigned to the fact that a part of my identity - being physically capable of doing stuff and not tiring - is changing. My pride has and is taking a hit. And I need to adjust.
  
  
• I can be grateful this isn't worse. I was worried at the beginning I'd contracted COVID. That worried me not just for myself but because I had been around a bunch of people that week. Thankfully, two tests showed I was negative. But I had some restless nights where coughing made rest rare and breathing was labored. During this same time, three people I know have gotten COVID and all had severe symptoms. One even passed away. I am ok, my family is healthy, and getting medical attention was pretty effective and not super expensive. I am grateful it has not been worse.

Wednesday Wisdom

 ANNOUNCEMENT: Given my changing personal schedule, it looks like I will be switching to either "Tuesday Thoughts" or "Wednesday Wisdom" from my traditional "Music Mondays" feature. I anticipate still incorporating musical thoughts, memories, and opinions but I will probably tackle a more diverse range of subjects here.

If you read my last entry, you know that I've started a sermon series going through The Sermon on the Mount of Matthew 5-7. I'm taking the Beatitudes one by one and last Sunday we studied 5:7 "Blessed are the merciful for they will be shown mercy."

Mercy is a concept I know from growing up in church but it first registered in my mind from TV, specifically Uncle Jesse on Full House. 

  

From the show's inception, he employed the catchphrase "Have Mercy!" whenever something good happened or his girlfriend/wife Aunt Becky gave him some loving, family-appropriate affection.

It was funny but even as a kid I knew it didn't quite jive with what mercy actually is.

Later on, I learned the oft-cited definition of mercy as it relates to the concept of grace. Grace is "getting what you don't deserve" while mercy is "not getting what you do deserve."

When reading through Scripture, it becomes quickly apparent that the above definition is too simple. Mercy is more than the absence of something. Mercy is something that is active, demonstrated, given and received (Hosea 6:6, James 2:12-13, etc.).

Mercy is the Good Samaritan. Mercy is raising Lazarus from the dead. Mercy is operating a local food pantry. Mercy can even be lived out by getting a COVID vaccine. In his commentary on The Sermon on the Mount, Scot McKnight defines the merciful this way, "The 'merciful' are those who...because they have experienced God's merciful love, empathize and show compassion to others."

During this week, we've seen political and national turmoil chaotically descend on the nation of Afghanistan as our nation has withdrawn our military presence. Heartbreaking images have flooded the news and social media as people desperately try to flee the coming darkness that is Taliban rule. I pray that our government leaders change course and act in mercy towards those people. 

Outside of prayer, it feels like there's little someone like me can do to really make a difference in that situation. But the overwhelming scope of the latest tragedy should not stifle my impulse to be merciful. Instead, to quote Ernie Johnson, I'm going to ask myself "what can I do today to make someone else's life better today?"

Music Mondays/Sermon Snippets

So I went the entire month of July without posting here. In retrospect, I'll call it an unintentional blogging sabbatical. 

This month has been filled with hot weather, family get-togethers, church events, yard work, our denomination's national conference, a mini-vacation...and now we are getting into August all of the sudden.

As I've traditionally done in the past, this summer I switched to a sermon series that lends itself to people's summer schedule (ie, traveling-vacation-inconsistent church attendance). I picked "The Sermon on the Mount" in Matthew 5-7 and am in the middle of the Beatitudes. 

Yesterday brought us to, "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted" in Matt. 5:4. Like many of these other sayings, Jesus doesn't seem to make worldly sense with this assertion. I had some extra time to prepare leading up to this and providentially I kept finding myself personally confronted with lamentable situations.

I'm convinced more and more that mourning/lament are the most ignored part of Christian discipleship in our modern times. Read Scripture with an eye for this and you'll find it everywhere. Whether it's mourning over the death of faithful saints (Gen. 50), the deplorable condition of God's city (Nehemiah 1ff), the depraved condition of God's people (Lamentations 1, all the Prophets), or simply suffering injustice (Ps. 22, 86), lament is an integral part of what it means to walk with God. It's not just about being sad. It is about seeing how the world is not as it should be - but still trusting in God to make it all right.

This brings me to our music for today. A Facebook memories reminder pointed me in this direction. Of all the modern CCM artists out there, I find Jars of Clay to have utilized this lament genre as much as anyone. Here are a couple examples I find notable and meaningful. 

If you find yourself in a time of lament, grief, or mourning - may you find God's comfort and consolation. And may we all learn to patiently protest the present while confident of God's future reconciliation.

Music Mondays

 So my cousin posted a link to this song on Facebook. 

It's from my mom's record, from, well, a long time ago. 

It is a rendition of "Amazing Grace" like I'm sure you've never heard before.

It is also not my mom. Apparently, the album also featured her friend Teddy Swinehart. It didn't sound like my mom and after asking her directly she confirmed that this song wasn't her but her friend.

But I should take this opportunity to praise my mom for her musical gifts. She was an accomoplished guitar player and won a talent context that allowed her to make this record. She met my dad in a music ministry group and they later traveled as a duo even while I was a little kid, singing and speaking in churches.

And if nothing else, she gave a platform to a friend that allowed a cover of Amazing Grace to the tune of "The House of the Rising Sun" to be released to the world.

One of THOSE Moments

A long-time friend of mine currently coaches my high school's basketball team. It has probably only been just over a year since he was hired. He's doing a great job. They had a pretty good season, winning their conference and generally showing promise for the future. 

Part of the off season schedule includes running camps for the younger kids in the community. He does a terrific job teaching the basics and making the game fun. Over the weekend, he shared this video of a young camper winning the championship for his team...after not really scoring at all but trying his best throughout the time.

https://twitter.com/CoachMattMoore/status/1400909445106970625

My initial thought was, "How awesome is this? That little guy is never going to forget this moment".

Then my mind drifted to a basketball memory of my own when I was close to that age.

I was around 9 or 10 years old and my church was sponsoring this community sports clinic at our facility. We'd recently built a gymnasium - or "multi-purpose room" as some insisted on calling it - and our church leadership saw the opportunity to have a Saturday where kids from the community would come and get some instruction in various sports. I remember that we had the option to participate in two sports and we'd go to the station and a coach would teach us some basics and have us go through drills. 

This was like a dream come true for me. I loved sports. I played in imaginary games in my room and in my yard in all sorts of games. I had an imaginary alter ego, "Jonathan Jims" who was an all-pro football player for the Chicago Bears and an all-star hooper suiting up for the Boston Celtics. I played alongside my heroes Walter Payton and Larry Bird and led my teams to championships in glorious fashion. 

Now, as I registered for this clinic that Saturday morning, I had a choice to make - how do I pick which two sports to play? I know for sure they had baseball, soccer, and basketball and think they had a couple others too. I landed on soccer and basketball. The time practicing and learning more about soccer was not very notable as I recall.

The session with basketball was everything and then some. Coach Jim Kessler of Grace College was in charge of this part of the clinic and he had a number of his own team there as well as some Warsaw High School basketball players. I even remember 1984 Indiana Mr. Basketball Jeff Grose was a part of this, though I would ask him years later and he had no recollection of it (though that would be understandable). All of these were giant men and I was a bit in awe of being so close to these heroes.

After running through some basic passing and dribbling drills, they divided us up into two teams and had us play for a few minutes. Now, let me set the scene for you as accurately as I can. 

First, this was a half-court game. The other side of the gym was being used for something else. Second, since basketball was so popular, there were a lot of kids at this station. It may have been only like 8 on 8, but it felt like 15 on 15. Looking back, it is amazing I ever even touched the ball. It was chaos to say the least, but at one point down the stretch someone passed me the ball around the right elbow by the free throw line. I saw an opening and dribbled right towards the baseline and loaded up and shot the ball. It was an off-balance jumper from about 10 feet that bounced on the rim a couple times and dropped in. I remember some of the Grace players sitting out of bounds jumping up and cheering - as this was the first and only basket of what surely was a poorly played-hard-to-watch game. 

A few minutes later, as time wound down, our team fouled the other team. The shooter, a kid from our church named Andy Plank, made one of two free throws. Our team would win the game 2-1 and they selected me and Andy as "players of the game". I got first pick of a prize, either a Lancers Shirt or some bball shorts. I picked the shirt which immediately became part of my clothing rotation and would for years to come. For the record, Andy became a much better player than I did - starting a couple years on varsity while I barely made the team. 

But it was that shot falling that inspired me to pursue basketball. I played some Little League and summer soccer, but basketball became my primary love. That shot gave me the confidence to keep at it after getting cut from my 7th grade team. It gave me the confidence to keep working and make varsity as a senior after two years of JV in high school. It was at the foundation of my self-belief that led me to later play at Grace for Coach Kessler. I was a JV practice fodder player at first but worked to become a valuable contributor to a 25-10 team my final year.

I hope this young man has a similar journey. Maybe he'll let the joy of that moment fuel him into a nice playing career like mine did for me. More importantly, I hope that this thrill gives him confidence in life to keep working at whatever challenge he might be facing.

And I'm thankful to God for giving us these kinds of beautifully gracious moments where pure joy and happiness overwhelm us. I love THOSE moments.

Music Mondays: Songs of a Certain Era

Upon hearing this song for the first time, you could have told me that this was going to be the biggest band in the world for the rest of my life and I would have 100% believed you.

And if my long-term memory serves me well, that initial impression was accentuated by the fact that I was hearing it in my friend Joe's house. His was the first house I ever remember having surround sound even with speakers in multiple rooms. 

Imagine being a musically naive middle schooler hearing this blast all around you at "11" as you jumped around and played air guitar and such.

Did every other Spin Doctors song I heard after this sound the same? Kinda. Were they a one-hit wonder band? Sort of.  But they created a perfect 90's pop rock song if there ever was one.

Music Mondays: Songs of a Certain Era

When I conceived of this idea, I came up with a short list of songs I wanted to include. It wasn't until now that I've come to realize that much of my list is from a very narrow timeline. 

I'll be adding a few to expand the actual "era" I'm talking about, but today's selection comes from what now seems like the classic year of 1993.  And I remember when I heard this song, I knew this was something different.

There was a way Counting Crows and Mr. Duritz told a story, played this song. It's like youthful energy mixed with the melancholy of experience. And of course his vocal delivery is unlike anyone else too. 

At the time, it felt like this was one of those songs that was going to last, that I'd be looking back with fondness in twenty years. Sure enough, we are almost at 30 and it still is a pretty fun ride.