Pastor's Perspective - Draft Picks

The NFL Draft begins today.

As you know, this is the time of the year when all 32 professional football teams, after months of scouting, film-watching, bowl-attending, combines, campus visits, and interviews, offer their official invitations to the best college players in the country. After accessing their individual team needs, the teams analyze the best players “on the board” to meet those positional needs. After agreeing on each of their selections, that player is contacted, announced and celebrated.

I can only imagine what the folks two thousand years ago thought of the tiny team Jesus assembled. Personally, I would have never chosen the twelve He chose with my dozen draft picks. First of all, I would have never had two brother combinations. Family issues can get so messy sometimes. Plus, one set of brothers were known as ‘sons of thunder’ – hot-heads! Likewise, I would have never selected a tax collector with one of my picks. They were already despised. Who needs that kind of locker room headache? To augment team friction, let’s throw in a zealot! Hating all things Roman, he would have especially hated the tax man – a pawn for the emperor. To add to that, Jesus’ team seemed a bit fishermen-heavy for my likes. One guy was a doubter. One fella was a bit of a snob, prejudiced about anything good coming out of certain villages. And one saw through dollar sign lenses. No thank you! Jesus, what were you thinking? I’ll give you a D+ grade at best for the utilization of your draft picks. Didn’t you analyze their scouting reports?

Recently I pulled-up my old ‘Scouting Report’:
Steve Kiefer. 5’10” 190lbs. Johnson Bible College (Knoxville).
Continually struggles with impatience, pride, impulsiveness, inconsistency, frustration, stress, prioritization, resentment.
Married twice. Divorce and infidelity discovered in family history.
Early history of drugs, alcohol, sexual misconduct, multiple regrettable episodes.
Recommendation: Not worthy of a draft pick. Too damaged. A liability. A reach.

For three consecutive seasons, each of Jesus’ selected teammates drew penalties and fumbled the ball frequently; yet, all, except for one, eventually died for their coach and team leader and performed and played splendidly for His glory.

Let me remind you that Jesus is still assembling a team! He isn’t looking for perfect, cleaned-up, highly-projected personnel with impeccable credentials. Nor is He looking for flash, pedigree, IQ, media good-looks or self-confidence. Instead, He’s looking for the ones most often overlooked – the down & outers – the rejected – the injured – the weary – the disillusioned - the humble – the “real”.

Friends, let me remind you that only God’s grace destroys your old scouting report and replaces it with a team jersey and starting position.

Are you currently on His team? If not, there’s room on the active roster just for you. Announce it today and start a celebration!

Pastor's Perspective - Just Showing Up

Woody Allen said, “Eighty percent of success is just showing up.” Last Saturday I was reminded of that truth.

For the past several weeks, our 8-year-old Lily had one thing on her mind – Kite Day! From her van seat perch behind her mother, she would read the sign promoting this annual family-fun event as she entered our Fairfield neighborhood. To Lily it all made sense – “I have a kite I’ve only used once. There is going to be a special day to fly it. I’m not going to miss it. I’ll ask the grey-haired guy who lives with us to take me!” So for days beforehand, Lily lobbied for Kite Day. Knowing the zaniness of my erratic schedule, I’d typically smile, feigning mutual enthusiasm, but careful not to commit myself.

Last Saturday, Kite Day arrived. I had spent the first half of the day doing chores, working-out, and doing general weekend things. By noontime I was already exhausted. I slipped into some comfortable hang-out clothes and was content to stay in the rest of the cold and windy day. Until Lily came home! Kite Day had just started and she had no problem conveying to me she was missing it. Immediately the bell rang and an internal wrestling match began in me.

I wrestled with my will versus my little girl’s. I battled with my comfort and her desire. I toiled with my convenience and her adventurous spirit. I grappled between my rich memories and her hunger to make more. I mean, didn’t Lily know or care that 47-year-old fathers need to shut down the engines when they can? In her playful little world, didn’t she know or care that adverse meteorological conditions can hamper even the best conceived plans?

I wrestled.

I lost.

So, I exchanged my old attitude for a new one, my comfy shorts for jeans, my t-shirt for a sweatshirt, and my remote for a kite. Needless to say, Lily was ecstatic.

The investment was minimal, but the dividends were immeasurable. We drove three minutes away and flew a kite twenty minutes, before she complained about the cold and asked to leave. Then we spent precious Lily-Daddy-time thawing-out at the local Starbucks over coffee and Double Chocolaty Chip smoothies.

Friends, what I would have lost out on if I had won that dumb wrestling match. In reality, nobody would have won, and an opportunity would have been lost. Instead, memories were made that will never be forgotten.

In the car on the short drive home, Lily looked up at me adoringly with a smile painted with a remnant of ‘chocolaty’ and absent a few teeth. “Daddy, let’s always go to Kite Day together; even when I’m grown up and married someday.”

Thanks for the reminder Woody.