“The problem in many of our congregations is not that we’ve chosen a wrong strategy or have an irrelevant style but that we are an unhealthy culture.” - Erwin McManus
I love sports and I love going to sporting events, especially when they’re free. The Big 12 basketball tournament is at the new Sprint Center in downtown Kansas City this weekend and I took my son to the free open practice sessions on Wednesday and yesterday a friend took me to see a couple of the games.
Now I love sports, but I have digressed in my relationship with ESPN, Sports Illustrated, and March Madness ever since marriage and fatherhood became my #1 leisure sport. So as I’m walking into the beautiful, yet out-of-place in dreary downtown stadium yesterday, I wondered if I would still be able to speak coherent sports jargon with my friends during the games. I couldn’t name a single player from any of the teams playing, and I wasn’t even sure what Iowa State’s school mascot was, but more about that later.
I took my seat just a few rows behind Kevin McHale, who was scouting those players I couldn’t name, I ordered food that graciously did not provide the nutritional content on its packaging, and I cheered, booed, and yelled with the eclectic crowd wearing various school colors.
And then something unusual happened…
Iowa State took the court for pregame warm-ups. I knew nothing about the school or the basketball team, and these were my initial reactions:
1. They are called the ‘Cyclones’. Nothing like naming your school after horrific natural disasters.
2. The mascot is a Cardinal. Not sure the connection between the cardinal and the cyclone, but I don’t think the cardinal comes out of that one too well.
3. The school colors are yellow and red. Doesn’t seem bad, right. Except last night looked like a McDonald’s convention at happy hour. Even the mascot, the bird not the cyclone, was dressed like the reincarnation of Ronald McDonald.
4. The band members were wearing hockey jerseys. This was a BASKETBALL tournament.
So by default, I decided to root against Team McDonalds and cheer for Texas A&M. It didn’t last.
Across the stadium, I noticed several guys painted in yellow, wearing red wigs, and chanting wildly. I looked beside me and I noticed I was one of the few fans not wearing the McDonalds two-tone special. The atmosphere in the stadium was changing. These fans weren’t annoying or obnoxious, they were intriguing. They made the game exciting, even though the basketball team wasn’t, they made me laugh, and won me over. It was great to see fans who traveled, from wherever Iowa State is, and physically and emotionally take over the filled-to-capacity stadium. Even the band, although they may not have realized what sport they were playing for, frustrated A&M’s band because they were louder, more passionate, and played until the last possible moment.
I was swept away in a sea of mustard and ketchup, wishing I had attended Iowa State and wondering why I hadn’t been a fan all along. The same team I mocked at first, became the object of my affection for the next 40 minutes.
It’s been said that the goodness of God leads us to repentance. For some reason we’ve become dyslectic with that truth. We think repentance leads us to the goodness of God. ‘Say your sorry enough, have a revelation of how worthless you are, and then you’ll encounter God.’ That gospel is not only ineffective and stupid, it’s wrong.
God says, ‘See me in nature, see me in the arts, see me in people groups all over the world, see my goodness in creation, harmony, and life…and be awed!’ That will lead you to become a community of people who believe in me.
It wasn’t the mascot, team uniforms, conflicted bird, or badly dressed band that determined my belief in Iowa State, it was the passion of their community. The love the fans had for their school, each other, and even their acceptance of converted A&M fans like me was a powerful force. The way they took over a stadium not by bumper stickers, religious rants, or protests but by how they seemed to be loving life, drew us in.
Christianity doesn’t work any differently. The belief that the church will be empowered when we win elections, more powerfully protest sin, and organize effective boycotts of the bad guys, makes our message impotent. Instead we must become vibrant followers of Christ, hunger healthy communities of truth, and desire to produce life and love wherever we go.
So I bless you to live life full, and pursue healthy communities marked with humility, excellence, and passion.
I love sports and I love going to sporting events, especially when they’re free. The Big 12 basketball tournament is at the new Sprint Center in downtown Kansas City this weekend and I took my son to the free open practice sessions on Wednesday and yesterday a friend took me to see a couple of the games.
Now I love sports, but I have digressed in my relationship with ESPN, Sports Illustrated, and March Madness ever since marriage and fatherhood became my #1 leisure sport. So as I’m walking into the beautiful, yet out-of-place in dreary downtown stadium yesterday, I wondered if I would still be able to speak coherent sports jargon with my friends during the games. I couldn’t name a single player from any of the teams playing, and I wasn’t even sure what Iowa State’s school mascot was, but more about that later.
I took my seat just a few rows behind Kevin McHale, who was scouting those players I couldn’t name, I ordered food that graciously did not provide the nutritional content on its packaging, and I cheered, booed, and yelled with the eclectic crowd wearing various school colors.
And then something unusual happened…
Iowa State took the court for pregame warm-ups. I knew nothing about the school or the basketball team, and these were my initial reactions:
1. They are called the ‘Cyclones’. Nothing like naming your school after horrific natural disasters.
2. The mascot is a Cardinal. Not sure the connection between the cardinal and the cyclone, but I don’t think the cardinal comes out of that one too well.
3. The school colors are yellow and red. Doesn’t seem bad, right. Except last night looked like a McDonald’s convention at happy hour. Even the mascot, the bird not the cyclone, was dressed like the reincarnation of Ronald McDonald.
4. The band members were wearing hockey jerseys. This was a BASKETBALL tournament.
So by default, I decided to root against Team McDonalds and cheer for Texas A&M. It didn’t last.
Across the stadium, I noticed several guys painted in yellow, wearing red wigs, and chanting wildly. I looked beside me and I noticed I was one of the few fans not wearing the McDonalds two-tone special. The atmosphere in the stadium was changing. These fans weren’t annoying or obnoxious, they were intriguing. They made the game exciting, even though the basketball team wasn’t, they made me laugh, and won me over. It was great to see fans who traveled, from wherever Iowa State is, and physically and emotionally take over the filled-to-capacity stadium. Even the band, although they may not have realized what sport they were playing for, frustrated A&M’s band because they were louder, more passionate, and played until the last possible moment.
I was swept away in a sea of mustard and ketchup, wishing I had attended Iowa State and wondering why I hadn’t been a fan all along. The same team I mocked at first, became the object of my affection for the next 40 minutes.
It’s been said that the goodness of God leads us to repentance. For some reason we’ve become dyslectic with that truth. We think repentance leads us to the goodness of God. ‘Say your sorry enough, have a revelation of how worthless you are, and then you’ll encounter God.’ That gospel is not only ineffective and stupid, it’s wrong.
God says, ‘See me in nature, see me in the arts, see me in people groups all over the world, see my goodness in creation, harmony, and life…and be awed!’ That will lead you to become a community of people who believe in me.
It wasn’t the mascot, team uniforms, conflicted bird, or badly dressed band that determined my belief in Iowa State, it was the passion of their community. The love the fans had for their school, each other, and even their acceptance of converted A&M fans like me was a powerful force. The way they took over a stadium not by bumper stickers, religious rants, or protests but by how they seemed to be loving life, drew us in.
Christianity doesn’t work any differently. The belief that the church will be empowered when we win elections, more powerfully protest sin, and organize effective boycotts of the bad guys, makes our message impotent. Instead we must become vibrant followers of Christ, hunger healthy communities of truth, and desire to produce life and love wherever we go.
So I bless you to live life full, and pursue healthy communities marked with humility, excellence, and passion.
