That Punky Kid In The Youth Group: Ode To My Hero Jeremy Powers

With school starting and Fox returning to High School life I went back in my mind to the youth group I used to lead in San Jose. I was there for about ten years and had countless numbers of youth come through the doors. To be honest, I don't remember all of the kids as so many were here and gone all too fast for me to get to know them. Some I have been blessed with keeping their friendships through the years. These amazing young men have showed me that the investment was worth it. It reminds me that God does in fact work in the lives of our youth and they are now out in the world making a difference.
Of course there are ones that stand out more than others. For me one stands out loud and clear. He was part of a family of four brothers. All had long unkempt hair and clothes. They were loud. They also made life uncomfortable for others in the church. The came on Wednesday nights riding in on skateboards. They like their music loud. They always wanted to find the next big jump, the next thing to break and the next thing that would go uncontrollably fast. Oh, if I haven't said it yet, they were loud. They had electric guitars and a drum kit in their garage - you can do the math on what it was like. The boys' last name was Powers. I think it was fitting. When they brought friends to church, it was some of the roughest characters you could ever imagine. I sometimes think I was more of a correctional officer at those times.
The center of this motley crew was the youngest and loudest of them all. His name was Jeremy. If I go through my pictures from that time, he seemed to inject himself into each shot. He once found his way to the top of the camp chapel to see if he could snowboard jump off of it (it has a nice lip for a ramp). He's the only kid who got seriously hurt on a ski trip. We had to cart him down the mountain after he sprained his knee attempting yet another big jump. It was never a surprise when he came to youth group with a black eye, a cast or a splint. Even though he was the smallest kid on his peewee football team, he played nose tackle. Picture the Tasmanian Devil throwing bodies around and you'll get the picture of what he was like on the football field.
Here's the interesting thing about Jeremy and his brothers: they deeply, passionately and even recklessly loved God. They had this deep respect for the leaders. When we were speaking and others were talking over us, you'd here Jeremy yell "Shut up!!!" at them. If someone said that church was stupid, he'd be sure to let them know how stupid they were being. He also would threaten to beat up those who didn't show us respect. I know that even though it wasn't the "right" response, I could see he had passion.
1 Samuel 16:7
But the Lord said to Samuel, “Do not consider his appearance or his height... The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”
Jeremy and his family moved to the Northwest when he entered high school. A few years passed and I received a call from his mother. She said that Jeremy had died in a car accident. I spoke with his brother and he said that Jeremy had bought a junk car and tried to fix it up to go fast. Sadly, it was too fast and he crashed it. It was said that at his memorial service, just about every hooligan from the town attended. In life and in death, Jeremy was true to himself. I think that in some ways I have a smile knowing that Jeremy had a very distinct impact on this world. He shook it up, lived it with passion and had a lasting impression on me and probably many others. The candle that shine twice as bright does burn half as long. But what a bright light!
A few things Jeremy definitely taught me was to live life to it's limits; that life unihibited is living; that being passionate has its plusses; that one should NEVER judge a book by its cover; and if I have a say in how I go, I want it in a way that shows that I really lived. In the list in my mind of personal heroes, Jeremy Power is near the top of that list. I regret that I won't have the time on this earth to share that with him.
The last time I talked to the Powers boys, they were being covert missionaries. I remember one of them with a wry smile on his face as he said how he was going to infiltrate the group so that they could change things from within.
Ah, passion!!!
My hope is that we all go through life and see people as God sees them. I hope I can show the love and compassion that each one needs and perhaps we can all live with the reckless fighting spirit of Jeremy Powers. I look forward to seeing him again in my Father's house.

"I don't know what to say really.
Three minutes to the biggest battle of our professional lives all comes down to today.
Either we heal as a team or we are going to crumble.
Inch by inch play by play till we're finished.
We are in hell right now, gentlemen believe me and we can stay here and get the *** kicked out of us or we can fight our way back into the light.
We can climb out of hell. One inch, at a time.

Now I can't do it for you. I'm too old.
I look around and I see these young faces and I think I mean I made every wrong choice a middle age man could make.
I uh.... I p***d away all my money believe it or not.
I chased off anyone who has ever loved me.
And lately, I can't even stand the face I see in the mirror.

You know when you get old in life things get taken from you.
That's, that's part of life.
But, you only learn that when you start losing stuff.
You find out that life is just a game of inches.
So is football. Because in either game life or football the margin for error is so small. I mean
one half step too late or to early you don't quite make it.
One half second too slow or too fast and you don't quite catch it.
The inches we need are everywhere around us.
They are in ever break of the game every minute, every second.

On this team, we fight for that inch
On this team, we tear ourselves, and everyone around us
to pieces for that inch.
We CLAW with our finger nails for that inch.
Cause we know
when we add up all those inches
that's going to make the **** difference
between WINNING and LOSING
between LIVING and DYING.

I'll tell you this
in any fight
it is the guy who is willing to die
who is going to win that inch.
And I know
if I am going to have any life anymore
it is because, I am still willing to fight, and die for that inch
because that is what LIVING is.
The six inches in front of your face.

Now I can't make you do it. You gotta look at the guy next to you. Look into his eyes.
Now I think you are going to see a guy who will go that inch with you.
You are going to see a guy who will sacrifice himself for this team because he knows when it comes down to it, you are gonna do the same thing for him.

That's a team, gentlemen and either we heal now, as a team, or we will die as individuals.That's football guys. That's all it is. Now, whattaya gonna do?"

Excerpt from Al Pacino's "Inch By Inch" speech from Any Given Sunday

Confession: I Was A Party Animal And A Member Of A Boy Band

Yes, the title is very much true. Talking to the right people from my past and you will find out that along with my good friend and then roommate John Williams, we threw some very memorable college parties at our apartment at UC Davis. Also, if you talk to the right people, you will know that I was a member of a short lived boy band that covered N'Sync songs. I'm sure that I have your attention, so here's the explanation...

Acts 2:42-47
"They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all the people. And the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved."

While in college I was heavily involved with Inter Varsity Christian Fellowship. This was truly the first time that I started on a path of healing and maturing in Christ. I know that for many, college is a time that one's faith is heavily challenged, here I found the teaching and fellowship that would strengthen my faith and start a process of healing from my childhood scars. What was most important to this, was the love I received from the people there. I developed some of the best life long friends any one could ever have. We lived in a generous and accepting community. We prayed together, studied the Word together and laughed a lot together. It would be my sincerest prayer that everyone should at some point in time be involved in a fellowship like this. It is so freeing and refreshing. One thing that is so special and unique about these friends is that at any time that I reconnect with them, we can pretty much pick up right where we left off. We can easily share what's really going on inside. We can laugh, cry and pray together. It is a safe, and warm place that we all share.
We also had a lot of fun together.
Not only did we play sports, go to movies, go out to dinner, hang out talking for all too long a time (alas you could always find me between classes at the Memorial Union with John) but also we partied. Not like the usual college drinking party, but something just as crazy, but a lot more safe (and legal). John and I threw from what I gather now, were the be and end all dance parties of our college lives. It was pretty much one large mosh pit with everyone piled in. Cranking out hits from genres like Motown (Marvin Gaye, Gladys Knight and the Pips, The Temptations), surf (Surfaris, Jan and Dean, The Beach Boys), soul (The Pointer Sisters) ,80s (in the decade of the 80s) and even Contemporary Christian (Leon Patillo, Steve Taylor); we danced the night away. It was a loud, frantic and obviously a memorable time.

Psalm 144:12
"Then our sons in their youth
    will be like well-nurtured plants,
and our daughters will be like pillars
    carved to adorn a palace."
For 10 years and then off and on for the next few years I either led or helped lead the youth groups at various churches I attended. It was a rich and rewarding time investing in young people's lives. Coming to know the Lord in my Middle School days always gave me a heart for that age group. Being the small awkward kid gave me a lot of understanding for this age group. After college I poured a ton of my time into the youth hoping that they would know Christ's amazing love and that His transforming power would deeply impact their lives. I know I taught countless numbers of Bible Studies and had the occasional very deep conversation that hit the important areas of a few of these kids. Like the IVCF group in college, we also had a lot of fun together. I realize how much I miss the laughter of youth - especially when knowing that some had very little laughter at home. I feel so privileged to know that many of these young people have grown up to be passionate about their Savior. Some are married and have their own families and few are even in full time ministry.
So where does this all connect to parties and boy bands?
As for college friends, we reconnected in Guatemala on a mission trip to the scenic Western Highlands in a little village called Panyebar. There, I got with some of my friends. When we got to memories of our days at Davis, my friend Bruce (who wrote a great article for Christianity Today) got hung up on one memory: our dance parties! It seemed that everyone in the group remembered them most fondly. No deep conversation, no insights in the Word, just the fact that at one point in my life, I threw a great party. Considering my teen daughters were there when he mentioned it, I'm not sure that's what I wanted them to hear.
Here's a picture of the "guys" in Guatemala:

Second, I went back to visit the church where I used to lead the youth group. I am so very excited to know that two guys I used to have in youth are now pastors there. The senior pastor is Jason Helveston who is an amazing young man. I know God is doing great things through him. Once again, we started to reminisce about the good old days. Again I held out on to the obviously vain hope that he'd remember a great conversation, or perhaps an insightful Bible study lesson that I had shared with him. It wasn't to be. His most significant remembrance of me? When he and I and three other guys in the youth group got up in front of the church and performed a bunch of N'Sync songs (This I Promise You, Bye Bye Bye, God Must Have Spent A Little More Time On You). It seemed to be an important memory as before I hooked up with him, I bumped into his wife and the first thing she said was that I was "The guy who sang N'Sync songs with Jason." I'm sure that even in my late thirties, it wasn't a pretty sight seeing me dancing around singing songs I just learned about fifteen minutes earlier not to mention the fact that they were teen "pretty boy" love songs. Let's just say I'm not taking Justin Timberlake's place any time soon.

Phillipians 2:1-3

"In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:

Who, being in very nature God, 

    did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;

Rather, he made himself nothing 

    by taking the very nature of a servant, 

    being made in human likeness. "

I've thought a lot about why people in my life remember things like dance parties and me making a fool of myself acting like a teen idol. My daughter Ariel gave me the insight that I was missing: Connection. In my all too self conscious self I most of time am unwilling to step out of my comfort zone. When I do step out, I am connecting with those I desire to minister to. Of course that is exactly what Christ did for us. In essence it's a Christ-like act to step out to connect with others. My introverted self struggles with that, but I know that in the moments that I do step out it has had an impact. The beauty is that the connection to others lasts eternally. So I'll say it proudly that I threw some great wild parties in college. Also, I am a retired member of the N'Sync cover boy band which we called Sync'N (which is pretty much what we did). More importantly, I get the joy of spending eternity with some amazing friends of whom I love deeply.

"Dance, children dance, children dance unto me..."

Philander Rodman: This Explains A Lot Of Things

What thoughts come to your mind when you think of Dennis Rodman? Hall Of Famer? NBA Champion? Relentless rebounder? Shutdown defender? Taunter? Bully? Cross dresser? Deadbeat father? Nose piercing? Rainbow colored hair? Bad boy? Freak? One has to wonder about a man who acts so completely outrageous that all of the above could be correct answers. Anybody who authors a book titled "Bad As I Want To Be" truly craves to provoke and in Rodman's case act in increasingly bizarre ways. Like my previous article the question begs, where did this all come from? I know this will sound like a broken record, but look at his father: Philander Rodman.
Take a moment to look up the term Philander and you'll think that whoever named him was quite prophetic: 29 (TWENTY NINE) children from 16 (SIXTEEN) different women. From the sound of things, the elder Rodman has not been a part of Dennis' life since three years old. On top of that, he seems to live in this fantasy world that he's the long lost father of Dennis Rodman. No, he's a passive, self serving, deserting person who failed to take responsibility of being a man and a father.
Now read Dennis Rodman's quote:
"My father isn't part of my life. I haven't seen him in more than thirty years, so what is there to miss? I just look at it like this: Some man brought me into this world. That doesn't mean I have a father; I don't. I could say, 'This is my father. This is my dad,' but that doesn't sound right to me. I grew up with my mother and two younger sisters, Debra and Kim. There wasn't a male role model in my life until I got to college and started getting my [act] together."
One can argue whether Rodman has gotten his act together, but the bottom line is this. His life is one of confusion played out on a public stage. Sadly, he lacked the firm and loving direction that God instituted earthly fathers to provide. Even if one excuses his strange choices in fashion, he still is an insecure and irresponsible man.
Many of us struggle with the concept that God punishes the children for the sins of the father. In fact, it's number 2 on His Top Ten List:

Exodus 20:4-6
"You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments."

What I see in this is the fact that our actions have consequences. We do reap what we sow. Sin does not exist in a vacuum. There are no victim less crimes. There's price to be paid and we need to pony up at times. Pretty harsh? Philander Rodman worships the idol of himself. Perhaps even more compelling is the fact that Philander Rodman is a Junior meaning there was also a Philander Rodman Sr. Now one has to take into account how God ordained things. Does Philander Sr. have something to do with this? If so, his third generation has been deeply affected by whatever idolatry he was involved in.
Perhaps I'm being a little soft on my stance, but it's clear to me that the sins of the father or grandfather will bring the natural consequence of hardship upon the sons. As you can tell from my tone, this really bothers me. Being involved with youth, foster parenting, mentoring younger men and talking with male peers has made it perfectly clear: the father's good and bad deeds affect the children. We need to break this cycle. I consider myself culpable too. Even though the children in my house have experienced abandonment by their birth dads, I know that I carry the deep responsibility as the dad who was there on a day to day basis. Many times I have failed. To both Ariel and Amanda I have needed to speak to them as adults and apologize for the ways I fell short as a dad. My prayer for all my kids is that the true Father can bring about the life and healing that I fell short of providing.
So I conclude by once again pointing to our real Dad. Yes, you can call Him Daddy if you need. You can be formal or deeply intimate with Him. But realize that we all need Him. He's the one we can run to embrace and know that we are safe.

Why Forgive?

In the wake of the tragic shooting in Aurora, Colorado so much emotion comes out. Disgust, fear, anger, and sadness permeate us as we try to make sense of something senseless. Think of heading to the theater to watch a much anticipated film to only end up witnessing up front or becoming victim of a bloody, violent, murderess rampage? Think of the horror, shock and pain that they went through. Now consider how our country reacts. There's been a spike in requests for gun carry permits in an attempt to protect oneself. There are talking heads spouting all sorts of divisive vitriol from both sides of the political spectrum.
Add to this, there's rioting going on in Anaheim because a police officer shot and killed an unarmed youth; Happy Valley is still digesting the penalties and public scorn from the Sandusky trial; and George Zimmerman is awaiting trial for the shooting of Trayvon Martin with all of the racial tension that has simmered through that incident. How do we as a society find healing in the wake of all that has been going on?
My suggestion is to look at two men as imperfect examples. The first is Pierce O'Farrill. He is one of the victims of the shooting in Aurora. He has chosen the Christ-like attitude to forgive. I have to admit in my walk I would seriously struggle to be able to do this. It takes a supernatural healing and heart change to be able to forgive those who have wronged you. We have tender spots in our hearts that will cry out in either fear or anger. Yet, a young man like this can step up and decide to forgive and to find compassion and desire to understand why someone would commit such a heinous act.
The second is Pope John Paul II. In 1980 Mehmet Ali Ağca shot the Pope four times. The reaction from around the world was (as in the Aurora shooting) disgust, fear, and anger. In 1983, the Pope visited Agca in prison. In one of the most talked about acts of his papacy, he forgave his assasin. Time Magazine's cover story for that week had a picture of the visit with the quesion: "Why Forgive?"

I believe that this may have been the Pope's most important act during his life. He fully demonstrated the Christ-like grace of forgiveness. After his death it is said that Agca was deeply saddened by the event, that he considered the Pope his friend and expressed his deep love for him. That is amazing healing!
Forgiveness is such a difficult thing but a healing one. I am very much walking the slow path to being able to forgive others. It is a process of release. Not only for the wrong doer, but a release of the chains of the wronged. When that step begins, we find our burdens lifted. We will continue on our journey to healing.
One of my favorite Christian musical artists is Steve Taylor. Once dubbed the Court Jester Of The Kingdom, he is known for his cynical, and sarcastic views of life in in the Christian world. He has lambasted TV Evangelists (I Manipulate), conformity (I Want To Be A Clone) and political influence of conservativism (It's A Personal Thing). Amazingly, he was so touched by the Pope's actions that he wrote this beautiful and positive song in response to Time's question, "Why Forgive". He just said "To Forgive".

I saw a man
He was holding the hand
That had fired a gun at his heart
Oh, will we live to forgive?

I saw the eyes
And the look of surprise
As he left an indelible mark
Oh, will we live to forgive?


Come, find release
Go, make your peace

Follow his lead
Let the madness recede
When we shatter the cycle of pain
Oh, we will live to forgive

Come, find release
Go, make your peace

I saw a man
With a hole in His hand
Who could offer the miracle cure
Oh, He said live
I forgive
Oh, He said live
To forgive
Oh, He said live
To forgive

The Legacy Of Kings And Coaches

2 Chronicles 33:1-7
"Manasseh was twelve years old when he became king, and he reigned in Jerusalem fifty-five years. He did evil in the eyes of the Lord, following the detestable practices of the nations the Lord had driven out before the Israelites. He rebuilt the high places his father Hezekiah had demolished; he also erected altars to the Baals and made Asherah poles. He bowed down to all the starry hosts and worshiped them. He built altars in the temple of the Lord, of which the Lord had said, “My Name will remain in Jerusalem forever.” In both courts of the temple of the Lord, he built altars to all the starry hosts. He sacrificed his children in the fire in the Valley of Ben Hinnom, practiced divination and witchcraft, sought omens, and consulted mediums and spiritists. He did much evil in the eyes of the Lord, arousing his anger."
Of all the "bad" Kings of Judah many will point to Manasseh as the worst of them all. A privileged teen when he came to power, he pretty much led the country into moral ruin. Scholars believe that Asherah poles were in fact phallic symbols. He encouraged and participated in all sorts of pagan worship. Most shocking of all, he was all for child sacrifice and even sacrificed his very own children. One would like to think that a dirt bag like this would receive the worst and deepest of punishment:
2 Chronicles 33:11
"So the Lord brought against them the army commanders of the king of Assyria, who took Manasseh prisoner, put a hook in his nose, bound him with bronze shackles and took him to Babylon."
At this point we'd like the story to end. The sicko gets locked up and we all move on. Let him rot in his cell and the world is a better place. Not so:

2 Chronicles 33:12-17
"In his distress he sought the favor of the Lord his God and humbled himself greatly before the God of his ancestors. And when he prayed to him, the Lord was moved by his entreaty and listened to his plea; so he brought him back to Jerusalem and to his kingdom. Then Manasseh knew that the Lord is God.
Afterward he rebuilt the outer wall of the City of David, west of the Gihon spring in the valley, as far as the entrance of the Fish Gate and encircling the hill of Ophel; he also made it much higher. He stationed military commanders in all the fortified cities in Judah.
He got rid of the foreign gods and removed the image from the temple of the Lord, as well as all the altars he had built on the temple hill and in Jerusalem; and he threw them out of the city. Then he restored the altar of the Lord and sacrificed fellowship offerings and thank offerings on it, and told Judah to serve the Lord, the God of Israel. The people, however, continued to sacrifice at the high places, but only to the Lord their God."
Somewhere while Manasseh was in his cell he remembered the Lord and asked for forgiveness and God granted it! Proof that Manasseh's heart was changed was that he backed up his words with real action. So now we have a nice feel good story of redemption. This begs the question: Was Manasseh a "good" king or a "bad" one? I bring this up as we now have the dilemma of Joe Paterno.

Although he did not commit any abuse, he is accused of covering up the heinous acts of his former assistant coach, Jerry Sandusky. Vulnerable boys were sexually abused by this man while Paterno and the administration looked the other way and waffled on what to do. In the end, the football program was more important than the lives of innocent children and the crimes were either ignored or worse, covered up. Rick Reilly talks of the deception he fell for believing that this hailed program was headed by a saintly benevolent man. The NCAA handed down a bevy of huge sanctions against the football program. Most interesting to me was that all victories from 1998 to the present have been vacated. This was clearly a sanction against the legacy of Joe Paterno. This cost him 111 victories and drops him out from the title of the all time FBS coaching victory list (scary irony, this means the last quarterback to win a Penn State football game as of this writing is Mike McQueary the man who first help break the scandal). In the past 24 hours, Paterno's statue was removed from the football stadium.

Even two years ago, Paterno was viewed in awe: a man who ran a clean program that had never had a sniff of scandal. He also won a lot. In a sport rife with cheaters and law breakers, his program appeared remarkably pristine. His players graduated, he was and still is revered as a father figure to many, he donated millions to the school and the program brought millions more to the institution.
So this begs the question: is Paterno's legacy that of a great man who mentored, generously gave and won the "right" way or was he detached enabler who  created a culture that allowed a sexual predator to destroy the lives of countless children?
Good king? Bad king? Good coach? Bad coach? Good man? Evil man?
The lines on this are blurred. The issue is that we cannot measure a man's heart. Only God has that ability. Add to that, we are all human and capable of all sorts of heinous acts. Each and every one of us left unchecked can find ways to condone any sort of evil behavior. Yet in the same person we can find incredible acts of charity, generosity and self sacrifice. That is the dilemma. So as for legacies, both Manasseh the King and Paterno the coach will settle in to the largest pool. They are human: frail and capable of the most positive and negative acts.
Most of all they are both cautionary tales. With power comes the great magnifying glass of influence but also scrutiny. May we all bow down and recognize that the great and merciful Savior, the Extraordinary, is our only hope. Let us humbly lay before him our crowns along with our shortcomings. He is the healer.
James 4:10
"Humble yourselves before the Lord and He will lift you up."

Hands High In Praise

Late last week I got some great news regarding one of my children. It wasn't a life and death situation, but something I have been praying for and hoping for. When God finally answered with a huge "Yes!" I was stunned in amazement. The next reaction was spontaneous and very much unlike my normal reaction to things: I raised my hands up in joy. I was so happy, joyful and thankful that my body just reacted. Reflecting on this I realize that still after all of this time of hopefully maturing and growing in my walk with Christ I am way too reserved in my praise of Him; the Extraordinary. We have so much to praise Him for and yet not only is it limited in the time we spend praising Him it's limited in scope. Why can't we just scream, cry, laugh, bow, or dance in joy?

A big part of why men lack is that we are once again boxed in by the world's definition of a male emotion. We are created to be emotional, but we are stifled by social mores that dictate how we are to act. Way too early in life we are told that emotions are for the weak. We are limited to laughing and getting angry in terms of social acceptance. Pretty pathetic if you think about it. Men end up stuffing or detaching from their emotions; the end result is all sorts of issues including depression; rage; anxiety and fear. Praise is a huge and positive step in terms of integrating and experiencing our emotions. There should be a moment in all our lives when we seriously contemplate what Christ has done for us. Perhaps in a song, or a film on the Passion or a passage of Scripture could hit us so hard with the depth to which Christ went to show His love for us. It should bring us to tears. We should bow down in thanks. Let whatever emotion you feel towards God be fully expressed. It's quite freeing and deeply refreshing. It will ease much of the stored up pain that we all need relief from.

I know that Tim Tebow is a lightning rod of controversy but I truly admire the young man. He has that settled peace that most men twice his age lack. One huge reason is that he knows his true Father and is at peace showing his love for Him.
One other thing that we have to get away from is the fear of men. Why do we care so much about what everybody else thinks? Fear is the universal emotion resulting from the fall of man. We are so afraid of what others think. Consider how much shame and scorn is heaped upon public figures for any misstep. Once I heard a comedian mention why men don't raise their hands too high when they're dancing. He said it was because there's an invisible "queer" line just around the shoulders that men's hands can't cross. The funny part is that there is some truth to that perception. Why should we care what other people define things as? Those who are at peace with who they are seem to be able to rise above all of that. In essence it's absence of fear that frees us. Adam was afraid of God in the Garden after the fall. Conversely, Christ, the apostles and so many who have died for their faith faced their fear and peacefully trusted in their Father. That is amazing.
To draw us closer to our feelings and to show just how much we as men do feel, think about the big moments you have experienced in sports. With apologies to Bobby Thomson, Carlton Fisk, Bucky Dent, Alan Ameche, Bill Mazeroski, John Havlicek, Bobby Orr, and Joe Carter; here are some that come to mind that hit deep for me:

The rag tag lowly eight seed 1994 San Jose Sharks oust the mighty President Trophy winning Detroit Red Wings on Jamie Baker's late goal.
Randy Hahn's call:
"It's over! The San Jose Sharks have pulled off a miracle. They're going to round two, Detroit is out!"

Cal vs. Stanford in 1982. The Big Game. Simply known as The Play. Joe Starkey almost bursts a lung with his call:
"AND THE BEARS!!! THE BEARS HAVE WON!!! THE BEARS HAVE WON!!! Oh my God, the most amazing, sensational, traumatic, heart rending... exciting thrilling finish in the history of college football! California has won... the Big Game...over Stanford."

Something I've waited all my life to see: the Giants win the World Series in 2010. Thank you Edgar Renteria! Not the greatest call, but Duane Kuiper gets the honors:
"Swing and a miss and that's it! The Giants are World Champions!"

US vs. Russia in the 1980 Olympics. Some consider this the greatest event in sports history. This Sports Illustrated cover is one of only three covers in their history that has no caption. Obviously, we all needed no explanation. We all love the underdog story. Al Michaels made the call (in only the second hockey game he covered):

"Do you believe in miracles? Yes!"

In the lore of Bay Area sports, this is the biggest of them all. This was the beginning of the dynasty. The Catch. Sprint Right Option. Joe Montana to Dwight Clark. The voice of the hated Dodgers, and perhaps the greatest announcer of all time, Vin Scully had the call:

"Montana...looking, looking, throwing in the end zone...Clark caught it!"

Psalm 150:4-6

"praise him with timbrel and dancing, 

    praise him with the strings and pipe, 

praise him with the clash of cymbals, 

    praise him with resounding cymbals.

Let everything that has breath praise the Lord."

Just taking the time to think about those moments stirs something inside of me. Great memories. Times when I jumped up and cheered like crazy. We have it in us. We need to express it. Meditate on how many great things are in your life. Smile about them. Laugh about them. Cry about them. Raise your hands and scream at the top of your lungs. God created us to express ourselves.

Woohoo!

Bandit's Dad Was A Smokey

When I bought my VMax motorcycle I was talking with my daughter, Ariel, about naming it and I came up with Sharky's Machine. As Ariel and I both enjoy watching the San Jose Sharks together along with the motorcycle being teal in color it kind of fit. The name Sharky's Machine is actually for an 80s action film starring Burt Reynolds. It's a typical guy film with a tough as nails cop and lots of bullets and a few explosions. It also features still one of the coolest stunts ever as a bad guy gets shot and falls through a high rise window. This week had AMC showing one of the most intense films of all time Deliverance. I'm sure I can find some time to write about the intensity and symbolism there, but I'll just leave it as getting to see Burt Reynolds with a broken bone sticking out of his leg is not for the faint of heart (if him getting his finger tips cut off in Sharky's Machine doesn't turn you stomach enough).

When I think of Reynolds I also think about a quote I heard at a men's group meeting with the Fight For Manhood. This is one of the most significant ministries I have been involved in and I highly recommend for you to check it out. Before I get to the quote just think of who Burt Reynolds is. At one time he was the biggest box office draw in the world. His hit movies include Smokey And The Bandit, The Longest Yard, and Gator to name a few. He has fame, fortune, the affection of glamorous women and was a star high school athlete. I know growing up he was considered the cool guy laughing at authority, making his own rules and carving out his own path. In many respects, he is the world's definition of a man's man. He has had all the world has to offer.


Ecclesiastes 2:10-11
I denied myself nothing my eyes desired;
    I refused my heart no pleasure.
My heart took delight in all my labor,
    and this was the reward for all my toil.
Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done
    and what I had toiled to achieve,
everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; 
    nothing was gained under the sun.

Reynolds, like so many other men with riches, power, and fame are like Solomon. Yet somehow, having all the world had to offer didn't fill the void for either man. Here's the quote that rings in my brain so often when I think of Reynolds. It sounds a bit like my experience:


Burt Reynolds in Parade Magazine:
My dad was the chief of police, and when he came into the room all the light and air went out. There's a saying in the south - no man is a man until his dad tells him he is. It means that someday when you're 30 or 40, grown up, this man whom you respect and love and you want to love, you hope he'll put his arms around you and tell you, "You're a man now, and you don't have to do all those crazy things you're doing and get into fistfights and all that to defend your honor. You don't have to prove anything to me. You're a man and I love you." But my dad and me, we never hugged and never kissed and we never said "I love you." No we never even cried together. So what happened was later, I was deseperately looking for someone who would say, "Burt you're all grown up now, and I approve of you, I love you, you don't have to do those things anymore." But that didn't happen and I was lost inside. For most of my life, I couldn't connect - I was incomplete; and I didn't know then what I needed to know. 

There's so much in this quote I've spent a lot of time mulling over what he's saying.
One thing that stands out is how desperate he needs his father's love, acceptance and validation. Sadly, like most of us it never happened. Even worse, it seems that his dad was an intimidating presence. I wonder if my children would think that growing up, when I entered a room I sucked the air out? Our society has removed the father's all important role of giving identity to our children. We don't realize that we have been empowered by God to give a masculine love and validation. Our culture almost mocks the concept of rites of passage. I know that I wish that somewhere along the way someone gave me the consistent validation and masculine love I so desperately needed. As an example, my son in law who has served in the military (including a tour in Iraq), graduated college and won the heart of my most precious daughter obviously had not received that validation. The night before the wedding I gave him my own awkwardly presented but heartfelt and truthful personal validation. I told him that I was proud of him; that I would accept him, love him and treat him as my own adult son; and I told him that in my eyes he is a man. We hugged. At the wedding, before giving him Ariel's hand, I told him again that I'm proud of him. This is all so true. He is a good man and a man worthy of God's love. My continual prayer is that he daily becomes more and more confident of those facts.

Another surprising thing is that Reynolds wanted his dad to say "grow up and start acting like a man and that you don't have to prove anything to me." It's sad to see so many men who are desperately seeking validation. It's a vain exercise in of itself. Look at so much of the self glorification going on the music industry, on the playing field and on the political platform. Why can't we see past ourselves? Beyond that there are so many in their twenties and beyond who are still living like boys: consumed by their Xbox, cable TV, hobbies, and sports. I'm definitely not against personal pursuits, but how all consuming they can become (basically addictions). We so desperately need someone to tell us the truth: we're men and called to step up and live beyond our own pleasures; that we are committed to the well being and protection of others.
Also, what is clear from Reynolds is that we need to show our vulnerable emotions. I know I have a lot of growth to do in this area. Tragically, our society has so narrowly defined what a man is (Jason Gaddis calls it the The Man Box) that any emotion beyond anger is weak, for sissies, or is somehow an indication that you're homosexual. Sadly, showing emotion for a boy will invite ridicule. We learn to stuff our emotions and become incomplete and detached. We so desperately need dads who are willing to cry, hug, kiss and show genuine emotion. It is a long journey for most men to get there, but my prayer is that we can get there. Our wives, children and our world needs us to be more integrated intellectually and emotionally.
I'm sad to hear that at the time that Burt Reynolds made this quote, he had enough self realization that he knew he was lacking. He was lost inside, he couldn't connect with others, he was incomplete and didn't know what he needed to know. That is a great description of how I lived a large part of my life. Without the direction of an earthly father we will feel lost. Even with a good earthly father, his weaknesses and sin will leave gaps in our development. Only God can fill that gap. Only through His intervention and the placement of others who will walk the journey with you will you find the answers. I know for me it's a complicated, difficult journey but I am blessed with great friends with whom I owe a debt I could never repay. I also have a great God who did intervene in my life. He has somehow broke through all of the hurt and confusion and guided me to a better place. My hope is that whether we are an international superstar or just a regular guy with a family and a mortgage we all find what is lacking.
Hebrews 12:1-3
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.