The Biggest Wimp of All

What image does the term "wimp" bring to your mind?

Not hard to guess. All the way back to the "Popeye" cartoons, someone who is characterized by wimpiness is assumed to be weak, lacking in self-confidence, and most importantly, unwilling to fight or unable to defend himself in a confrontation. A wimp, in most people's minds, is a person who is more likely to allow himself to be taken advantage of rather than to stand up for himself. A person who fears a fight more than he fears the loss of respect involved in refusing to fight.

A tough guy, on the other hand, is any member of the A-Team, willing and able to throw a punch and connect over the slightest provocation, knocking people out cold without a thought. A little closer to daily reality, a tough guy is someone who is eager to intimidate, ready to defend himself, and even willing to get physical if necessary (or perhaps when not totally necessary, but fitting with his frame of mind).

At least that is the defense the tough guy will offer for his actions. Unfortunately, our culture has become steeped in a twisted version of toughness, in which many people walk around with ridiculously shaky chips on their shoulders, so eager to confront and fight over almost anything, it makes you wonder how people became so touchy.

Fighting has been a prominent part of my work experience in my nine years of public school administration. Over these years, I have dealt with many students and their parents in the aftermath of fights that break out in school. Parental reactions vary somewhat, but a common theme is this one: "I've taught my child to defend himself, so he shouldn't be punished for fighting!" Of course, the student is punished anyway, despite his sensei's teachings, and learns a hard lesson. Unfortunately, the parent has given the child a weapon and a blessing, but not the judgment to use it properly. Self-defense in a truly life-threatening situation is one thing. Creating a needless melee in a perfectly safe public place is something altogether different.

Most of the time, these disturbances arise from nothing more than gossip. Second, third, even fourth-hand, unsubtantiated rumor is oftentimes the only basis for the confrontation that erupts and turns physical. Oftentimes the root of the problem is an insult perceived when none was intended. A glance or a gesture can also serve as the catalyst for open conflict.

Rarely is the cause for the fight something the students will still feel strongly about the next day, let alone the next week or month. The consequences of the confrontation far outweigh the original spark that set it off.

Sadly, any viewing of the TV show Cops will remind us that this description is not limited to adolescents, but applies to many adults as well.

What does this say about the nature of the wordly "tough guy"? (Or "girl", of course. Our culture is filled with girls and women
who are just as devoted to this way of thinking as any boy or man. You've come a long way, baby.)

This world's tough guy equates respectability with strength, which in his mind means the ability to make sure no one takes advantage of him or gets away with insulting him. Since this is his most dearly held value, he finds insult in daily interactions where none was intended, and he is quick to confront over the slightest violation of his self-imposed code. Pity the poor soul who tells a third party something derogatory about the tough guy, or who pulls out in front of the tough guy on the road, or who even makes eye contact with the tough guy in a way he doesn't like.

You just don't mess with this person, because this person is strong.

As usual, Scripture challenges the commonly held human assumptions about things.

Proverbs 16:32 reads, "He who is slow to anger is better than the mighty, And he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city."

We're accustomed to hearing about being slow to anger, but the phrase "rules his spirit" packs a punch more potent than anything this world's tough guy has in his arsenal. As Scripture reveals, the strength it takes to control oneself is far greater than the strength it takes to intimidate, confront, challenge, and fight another person.

"Ruling the spirit" includes far more than simply avoiding open warfare with other people. What about our reactions to the things people do? Do we react to rumor, rather than demanding facts? What about our thoughts concerning other people's motives? What about our wishes toward others? Do we assume the worst about people? Are we quick to judge our neighbors? Do we bear ill will, and hope for bad things to happen to other people? Do we churn with anger over perceived slights and insults?

Or, are we willing to take every thought captive for Christ? (2 Cor. 10:5). Are we willing to make the mental and emotional effort to keep our neighbors' actions in perspective, and see the good along with the bad? Are we willing to give people the benefit of the doubt, and not allow negative assumptions about their motives? Are we willing to pray for our enemies and refrain from wishing them harm? Do we remember our own faults when rehashing those of people we don't like? Do we keep alive the joy of our salvation, even in the face of inconsiderate acts all around us?

Make no mistake: Christians are not called to be mere pushovers. Jesus Himself took a stand against making His Father's house a house of merchandise, by driving the peddlers out of the temple. Christians, too, may be called upon to display outwardly visible strength for His purposes. But Jesus also instructed His disciples to give to others who ask, and to give more than others ask, and not to worry about being insulted, in order to demonstrate the love of the One we belong to. (Matt. 5:38-42). The glory of God is the important thing. Our personal feelings are not.

Who is the bigger wimp?

The student who avoids a fight at school? Or, the student who throws a punch over a rumored insult?

The wife who ignores criticism of her husband, or the wife who puts her husband in an even more difficult position by making a scene over it?

The man who continues to treat his inconsiderate neighbor with grace, or the man who returns slight for slight, and provocation for provocation?

The husband at home helping put his children to bed, or the shirtless, drunken fool being wrestled to the ground by law enforcement at 2 a.m. on Cops?

In each of these examples, our culture calls the former soft, and the latter tough. In reality, the latter is the wimp, the wuss, the pushover, the milquetoast. He or she is led by the leash by Satan, bent and submissive before the power of the evil one, barking when he says to bark, jumping when he says to jump, shamefully yielding the entire human will to the puppetry of a master manipulator. That's what is really happening behind the intimidating facade we see on the surface of the world's "tough guy".

Here is where the fundamental misunderstanding lies: Toughness or softness is not primarily related to what people see on the outside. It is first a matter of who has control. Do our actions, especially our acts of strength, come from Christ, or do they come from Satan? Whose purposes do they serve?

Peter demonstrated strength when he rejoiced at being "counted worthy to suffer shame for His name" (Acts 5:41), not when he cut a man's ear off with a sword (John 18:12) in an attempt to prevent Jesus's arrest.

The real tough guy is the one with the guts to face down Satan, and, by the power of Christ, cause the coward to flee. (James 4:7) He or she is living in Christ, blessed with the presence of the Spirit, able to look at Satan's temptations, see them for what they really are, and yield no ground to his evil.

So, what will it be, tough guy?

"I will be you."

Just the other night, I asked our son Benjamin, "What will you be when you grow up?"

His response was both heart-warming and terrifying: "I will be you."

"I will be you"?

You mean, you're thinking you'll be just like me? You mean, I'm the one you think of as a model of what to become? Obviously, he does. Most little boys, in their innocence, think of dad exactly the same way. Fathers should be honored and humbled by this sentiment, but far too many fail to appreciate the gravity of what this means.

Yes, it means many small things: Mannerisms, patterns of speech, trivial habits, loyalties to sports teams, preferences in music, and on and on.

But, many fathers, for a variety of reasons, forget the biggest things at stake in their influence over their children. After everything else has been forgotten, a child's view of God and relationship with Him are subject to tremendous influence at the hands of his parents.

Of course, every soul will stand accountable to God, but there is no doubt that the influence that shaped that soul early in life will have an effect on the ultimate outcome.

Indeed, Jesus Himself cautions against a careless attitude toward the influence we have over not only our own children, but anyone less mature in faith, when He states: "Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to sin, it would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he were drowned in the depth of the sea." (Matt. 18:6)

What a tragedy to be the father whose children learn to take God's name in vain, but not to pray. To seek entertainment, not to read Scripture. To seek vengeance, not forgiveness. To sing along with popular music, but not to worship. To react in anger to small inconvenciences, but not to exercise patience. Every father will teach his children a lifetime's curriculum in bite-size portions, one real-life moment at a time. There is no question about whether the learning will take place. The only question is what will be taught.

Humbling stuff. The kind of stuff that prompts a not-so-confident look in the mirror: "Is this what I want my child to become?"

Is that all there is? Nothing but a frightened realization of how much is at stake, and how unprepared for the task any honest father is likely to feel? Is there anything beyond a son's declaration of intent to imitate his father, and his father's mixed reaction to it? Is there any confidence at all that a Christian father can have?

Paul took his influence very seriously, and very personally. When writing to the Christians in Corinth, he tells them, "For though you might have ten thousand instructors in Christ, yet you do not have many fathers; for in Christ I have begotten you through the gospel." (I Cor. 4:15-16) Later in the same letter, he reminds these Christians, "Imitate me, just as I also imitate Christ." (I Cor. 11:1)

Where does Paul, the self-professed chief of sinners, find the confidence to embrace his role of influence, and boldly instruct less mature Christians to follow his example? After all, this is the same Paul who struggles in Romans 7 with the reality that he often fails to do the good he wants to do, and does the wrong he does not want to do. What Christian father cannot relate to that struggle? Yet, somehow, Paul finds the confidence to lead his less mature brothers and sisters in Christ, actually using the word "imitate" in his instructions to them. How do Christian fathers today find this same confidence when it comes to bringing up our children to love the Lord?

The answer lies in the reason Paul was so confident. Jesus Christ was the only reason Paul could tell his "children" in the faith to imitate him. As the Scripture states, the instruction to imitate Paul is a safe one, only because Paul is imitating Christ. By imitating Paul, these Christians will, in turn, be imitating Jesus Himself.

So, Paul's commitment to Christ makes him confident enough to hold himself up as an example to immature Christians, in spite of his own past conduct. Paul does not allow his haunting memories of past sin to stop him. Paul does not allow his ongoing struggles with sin to stop him. Paul simply strives to imitate Christ.

What does this say about many Christian fathers' feelings of fear and uncertainty about our own example to our children? Why are we afraid? Why do we feel insufficient to the task?

Perhaps the first step to increasing the Christian father's peace of mind is to return to the fundamental statement of who our example is. Perhaps it's a matter of realizing that our feeble ability is not the only factor in the equation. In fact, it's the least important factor.

Our Father, our example of how to be a father, equips us with all we need to provide the example our children need. He can overcome our flaws and make our sinful past an irrelevant memory.

What our Father is looking for are believers who will look to Him with the faith of a child and say, "I want to be just like you!"

What every child needs is a father who will look to God and say, "I want to be the kind of father you are!"

Such a father will be ready, and fully equipped, for a child who looks to him and says, "I will be you!"

And, that child will be safe in imitating such a father.

Dads, who will we be?

A Purpose Bigger Than the Pain

"The secret things belong to the Lord our God..." (Deuteronomy 29:29)

Pain is universal.

It doesn't take long after birth before a human being begins to suffer feelings of discomfort, even as simple as hunger pains. Everyone, at some point in life, endures pain on the level of:

Common illness.

Rejection.

Disappointment or disillusionment.

Inconvenience or unnecessary delay.

Lack of consideration shown by others.

On another level, certain brands of pain can be understood only by those who have endured them. Those who haven't, can only imagine the feeling of:

A chronic or serious illness that seems beyond cure.

The death of a child.

The betrayal of adultery.

Financial catastrophe.

Unjust punishment.

These and many other trials find their way into people's lives every day. Lives are changed by the impact of these experiences.

The question for the Christian is not whether pain will come, but how to respond when it does. Will the painful trials we endure pull us away from Christ, or motivate us to draw closer to Him? Every Christian must answer this question.

One of the most common questions asked during times of suffering is some variation on the theme of: "Why does God allow bad things to happen?" This question is easy to ask, and hard to answer. While there are deeper waters in which to dive for more complete answers to this question, every Christian should first come to grips with the basic reality of what God has and has not promised His children. God's promises have to do with eternity after this life, and with spiritual peace during our lifetime here on earth. His promises have never included any kind of assurance that we will be exempt from pain, even tragic or undeserved pain, in this lifetime.

Someone might think, "Well, that's easy to say, when you're enjoying peace in your life."

Precisely. That's just it. Times of peace and quiet in life are exactly the times when Christians should revisit God's promises and remind themselves that trouble can come, that it is likely to come, and when it comes, our response will emerge from the depth, or lack of depth, of our faith. Christians cannot afford to wait and wrestle with these questions when they've just been hit by tragic news. That's a wrestling match we won't be likely to win. You can't build a levee in the middle of a hurricane.

But, no matter how much we try to prepare, when tragedy and sorrow do come, the question is also likely to arise: "Why would my God, who could have intervened and prevented this disaster, stand back and allow it to happen?" Even the most seasoned Christian, who has been with God through thick and thin, could be tempted to lose faith because of this question.

To remain faithful in the face of this question, the Christian must make a choice to have faith in a purpose bigger than the pain. Once a Christian determines to have faith in God's purposes, he can respond to pain by living in faith, hope, and love, in spite of whatever pain he might have to endure. The only other choice is to refuse to believe in a larger purpose, and then to suffer bitterly in times of pain, struggling with doubt and frustration.

The ultimate example of choosing faith in pain is Christ on the cross. Jesus would have preferred not to go there, and even asked His Father to find another way. But, the only way to redeem the human race was to follow through with the mission. The mission could not fail. The mission was more important than the pain Jesus would have to endure. So, the answer to Jesus's prayer was "No". He was not spared the pain, but He did not lose faith in the purpose for it. He committed Himself to the mission long before the pain.

How might this concept be played out in the life of the Christian? Is every painful situation so clear in its purpose?

Another concept Christians benefit from accepting is the idea that we may not always know or understand God's will or influence in a situation. We're never promised to be kept in the loop as to why difficult times come our way. We might or might not have the ability or the opportunity to see the purpose that is bigger than our pain. What then? Are we willing to maintain faith in God only when we can see the purpose bigger than our pain? Or, is there a better way?

For the Christian, there are several possible scenarios for times when we are in pain:

*"I see the purpose bigger than my pain, right now." -- The Apostle Paul is a good example of this. When he sat in prison and wrote his letter to the Philippians, he stated right up front that his imprisonment served to further the gospel, because it stirred up other Christians to do the work he was restricted from doing. He also saw his influence on those entrusted with guarding him in prison. Is the Christian prepared to endure pain for the sake of a purpose bigger than himself?

*"I didn't see the purpose bigger than my pain at the time, but I saw it later." -- Joseph is the perfect example of this realization. He didn't see any purpose in being sold into slavery by his brothers, nor in being falsely accused by Potiphar's wife, nor in being imprisoned and forgotten about by a fellow inmate he had helped. But, once it all came full circle, and his long-lost brothers arrived in Egypt seeking food during the famine, everything became clear. The reason for all his suffering was made plain. Is the Christian willing to have faith in suffering, holding out hope that he, like Joseph, might see the purpose for it later on?

*"I never saw the purpose bigger than my pain." -- Is this thought too discouraging to contemplate? It shouldn't be. Job is the prime example of this. Scholars may dispute what might be read between the lines, but the fact is that Scripture never states that Job ever really understood what happened to him. All through his story, he believes wholeheartedly that God, for some unknown reason, has chosen to punish him without cause. In the end, he humbles himself before God, and all is restored, but we're never shown anything more than Job's misunderstanding. He never knew that Satan was really behind it all, and that the cruel test inflicted upon him by Satan served God's purposes in the end. Can the Christian endure the pain of never knowing the purpose being served in his suffering? Will the Christian commit to remaining faithful, and accepting the fact that the answer might not ever come? Will the Christian accept the fact that much suffering exists simply as a result of living in a sinful world influenced by Satan?

In the end, there must be some degree of acceptance of the message of Deuteronomy 29:29. According to this passage, there are some things that are secret, understood only by God Himself. Whatever these things are, they just don't belong to us right now, perhaps not ever. Can the Christian make peace with that? Will the Christian commit to faithfulness till death, even if that means living with questions unanswered? Even if that means suffering pain without seeing the purpose?

Will your anchor hold in a storm?

Will your house stand against the wind?

Will your faith remain strong in times of pain?

Are you preparing your faith now, or waiting for that storm to hit?

What God Has Joined...

In Matthew 19, the Pharisees test Jesus by posing an insincere question about divorce. Jesus responds by taking the discussion back to the beginning. He explains that the husband and wife have become "one flesh", and includes this admonition: "What God has joined together, let man not separate." (19:6).

This passage is often quoted in wedding ceremonies, and appropriately so. What better occasion to recall these words of Christ?

In a marriage, which person is more important, more necessary? The husband, or the wife? Obviously, this is a foolish question. Neither is more important than the other. The two are equally important, and both are necessary for the marriage to exist.

The concept of God joining two complementary parts together is not limited to marriage alone. There are many facets of the Christian life that include equally important elements joined together to form a complete picture. Too often, Christians gravitate toward one or the other, depending on personality, preference, or upbringing. But, to do so is just as short-sighted and limiting as trying to determine whether a husband or wife is more important to a marriage.

Just a few examples:

Love/Deeds: I Corinthians 13:1-3 reminds the Christian that all the godly deeds in the world are null and void if not performed in love.

Faith/Deeds: James 2:14-26 issues powerful instruction, detailing how faith is dead without good deeds resulting from it.

How easy it is to fall to either extreme: feeling confident in the depth of our faith, while pretty much keeping it to ourselves, or working like crazy "for God", without nurturing in our hearts the love that God has for those we serve.

Knowledge/Zeal: Proverbs 19:2 states that zeal without knowledge is not good; it causes us to "miss the way". How often do we find a Christian who excels in knowledge, but has lost enthusiasm for Christ? Or, one who is very enthusiastic, yet lacking in knowledge of the Word? Which is better? Can one be better than the other? They must be blended!

Grace/Obedience: Ephesians 2:8 makes clear that we are saved by the grace of God through Christ, and specifically reminds us that we are not saved by our works. We also read in 2 Thessalonians 1:8 that God will punish those who do not obey the gospel of Christ. Our salvation comes by grace, but obedience is a necessary element to receive that grace.

Spirit/Understanding: I Corinthians 14:15 contributes wise counsel to the ongoing discussion about worship. Which is more important? To worship with the spirit? Or to understand what we are doing? According to Paul, both! These elements go together, and should not be separated. Yet, how many discussions of worship have we had in which Christians have camped on either end of this spectrum?

Every Christian must strive to be in submission to the will of God in every aspect of life. The focus should be on understanding and putting into practice the full message of the scriptures, not just the parts that match our personality or way of thinking. In fact, things that are challenging to us deserve that much more attention and prayer, so that we may become fully equipped to serve Him.

What God has joined, let man not separate.

Benjamin's Music

We had a funny thing happen the other day.

We were at a gas station on the way home from church, when Benjamin began singing a song from the back seat. (Just as a little background: For this to make sense, you need to know that Benjamin was, at the time, keeping a pet "Roly Poly" from the backyard. He has since released it back into "the wild".)

Anyway, out of nowhere, and to no one but himself, Benjamin sang, "Ro-o-ly Polies, get gas, get gas! I-I-In their cars, their cars, their cars!" That was about as far as the song went, but the song was sung to the tune of "The Blue Danube" by Strauss. (Don't be impressed by my quoting that. I had to hum the tune to the Band Director at school to get the title.) We had a good laugh. We're assuming he learned that tune from one of his "Baby Einstein" DVD's.

Later on at home, Benjamin noticed me listening to music on our iPod. Benjamin wanted to listen in as well, so I let him. The song was "No One" by Alicia Keys. (Totally worth a buck on iTunes, by the way....)

I'm not sure if Benjamin had really paid attention to this song before, but he sure picked it up quickly. With headphones in ears, he belted out the chorus, "No one, No one, Noooooo ooooooooonnnne!" with a pretty much blank expression on his face.

We cracked up.

After this, it was the Cars soundtrack, singing along with Chuck Berry to "Route 66". Benjamin's becoming quite the iPod king!

Home Runs & Roller Coasters

"Why do you look for the living among the dead?" -- Luke 24:5

This question was asked of the women who came to Jesus's tomb on the third day after His death. They found His tomb open and empty, and two angels appeared, challenging them to remember Jesus's words about how He would rise again. These women were looking for the right person, but looking in the wrong place. They weren't going to find Jesus in that tomb.

Have you ever found yourself seeking something good, but looking in the wrong place?

Looking for...

A stable relationship, in a bar?

Intimacy, outside your marriage?

Financial peace, at the scratch-off counter?

Relief from hurt, at the bottom of a bottle?

Self-worth, through neverending hours at work?

What about our worship? Don't we all seek more meaningful worship? Don't we all want a more intimate relationship with God? These are good and noble goals, but where do we look to find these things? Are we looking in the right places?

There are two significant moments in my life that illustrate something important about the nature of worship.

The first occurred in October of 1988. It was Game 1 of the World Series. My beloved Dodgers faced the powerful A's, and weren't given much of a chance to win. The end of Game 1 became a classic ESPN moment, as Kirk Gibson gave the Dodgers the victory with a dramatic home run in the bottom of the ninth inning.

The second occurred in the summer of 1993. I took my first ride on the famous Texas Giant roller coaster at Six Flags. It was an awesome ride! Just intense enough to get your heart pumping, but not scary enough to ruin the experience. I really enjoyed it, and couldn't wait to ride again.

If there were snapshots of my face at both of these moments, I think my expression would be about the same: Jubilation! Smiling, shouting, screaming for joy! All the excitement you would expect for both situations.

But, if you could take these two snapshots and lay them down side by side, the question would be: Are these two moments really the same? Are these identical facial expressions really expressing the same emotions?

The answer is a definite "no". These two moments are actually quite different from each other, and have very little in common, aside from the facial expressions that resulted from them.

October, 1988:

The last pitch of Game 1 of the 1988 World Series was much more to me than just the moment you would have seen had you been with me that night. To this day, I get a lump in my throat just thinking about it. And, seeing the replay is almost more than I can take.

Why is this moment so significant? It's something only a lifelong Dodger fan could understand, and perhaps not even all of those.

To give you a little background...

You didn't hear my dad's stories of the excitement in L.A. when the Dodgers moved to town from Brooklyn in 1958, or of "his" Dodgers of the '60s, led by Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale, pitchers who were nearly unhittable in their prime.

You weren't there with me during the 1981 World Series, feeling the fear I felt when Goose Gossage came to the mound to pitch for the dreaded Yankees.

You never heard me recite the Dodgers' lineup as a child, remembering the players as if I knew them personally.

You weren't lucky enough to enjoy a Dodger Dog with me, sitting in beautiful Dodger Stadium, hearing the organ music.

You didn't see the afternoons I spent in my backyard pitching tennis balls at the house, pretending to be a right-handed Fernando Valenzuela.

You've never seen my autographed baseball from former Dodger first baseman Steve Garvey. It's still on display in my office today.

You don't know about the times I secretly took a transistor radio with me to bed so I could continue listening to the Dodger game after my parents told me to get to sleep.

You didn't hear my childish prayers to God that the Dodgers would rally to win an important game.

You didn't feel my heartbreak in the 1985 National League Championship Series, when the Dodgers lost Game 5 on an unlikely home run by Cardinals' shortstop Ozzie Smith.

You didn't live through the frustration I felt as the Dodgers suffered through miserable seasons in '86 and '87.

You didn't feel the surge of hope I felt as the Dodgers retooled for the '88 campaign, picking up outfielder Kirk Gibson, who would later hit that famous home run.

Your mind is not programmed to hate the Giants.

You can't possibly understand the frustration and disconnect I feel at the Dodgers' inability to return to playoff greatness since that magical 1988 season. This season marks 20 years, and that's a long time.

Devotion is the only word that comes to mind to capture all this history. A lifetime of devotion. That's what came bursting out of me that night in October of 1988 when Gibson's home run cleared the fence. It's also what never could have come bursting out of anyone else who had not loved this team with their whole heart for so long.

How do you package devotion? How do you put it in a jar and hand it to someone? The answer is simple: You don't. You can't. There's no shortcut to it. There's no microwave package that will be ready in a couple of minutes. The only way to experience the joy of devotion is to give yourself to someone or something, without regard for what you might get in return, and maintain that embrace no matter the cost. Ask a couple celebrating a 50th anniversary how to get what they have, and see what they tell you.

Summer, 1993:

So, what about the Texas Giant? What can be said about that? I paid for a ticket to the park, stood in line, and rode the ride. That's about it. It was a great ride, but it was just a ride. I rode it once, maybe twice more, never again finding it as fulfilling as I did the first time. It was just never the same. And, how could it have been?

Our Worship:

"God is spirit, and His worshippers must worship Him in spirit and in truth." -- John 4:24

Again, the question: What about our worship? Many Christians desire something more meaningful than what they currently experience. Something more moving, that touches them deeper.

Of the two moments discussed here, many Christians desire the worship equivalent of Game 1 of the 1988 World Series. That's a good thing to want. But, in our search for that, are we actually climbing aboard the Texas Giant and waiting for something to happen?

By default, most of the discussion surrounding meaningful worship has to do with what is planned and presented up in front of a church audience. The discussions tend to focus on worship format, which songs to sing, how to sing them, type and length of preaching, physical layout of the worship area, lighting, technology, etc.

All these things have their place, and need to be discussed. Every worship assembly should be designed and planned prayerfully, with the goal of glorifying God and keeping the attention on Him. A poorly planned or sloppily executed worship assembly is painful to endure, and draws more attention away from God than turning on ESPN would do.

But, as important as those discussions are, they do not capture the most important question. The question becomes a matter of what our worship really is. Is it something that happens to us, or something we give of ourselves to God?

If it is something that happens to us, then we are right when we think the path to more meaningful worship leads directly to the stage in front of the church audience. Then, it is a matter of who presents what in front of us on Sunday. Then, the way to achieve that elusive experience we're desiring is to get whatever is hip to get, and use it until it is no longer hip. It's someone else's responsibility to give us Game 1 of the 1988 World Series while we climb aboard the Texas Giant.

However, if worship is not something that happens to us, but rather, something we offer to God, then the path to more meaningful worship leads directly to the mirror. Worship becomes a product of the life we live from Monday through Saturday, not just an intake of what someone prepared for us on Sunday. Worship becomes something we offer to God from the depth of our hearts, without the slightest regard for the hipness or non-hipness of anything anyone planned or presented from the stage in front of us. Worship becomes directly linked to the level of devotion to God in our daily lives. It becomes our own responsibility to create the conditions conducive for Game 1 of the 1988 World Series. And, we realize that a ride on the Texas Giant, or any other roller coaster, can never match a home run like that. We give up on that thought entirely.

Are we prepared to take personal responsibility for the worship we offer God?

Will we abandon hope that the Texas Giant can give us Game 1 of the 1988 World Series?

Will we devote ourselves to God every day, and create the personal history with Him that will bring about those home run moments that put a lump in our throats, and bring tears to our eyes?

We have the right destination in mind. Will we understand that there is no shortcut to get us there?

The Narrow Victory

I've been a Los Angeles Lakers fan my entire life. Well, maybe from age 7 or 8 or so.

My earliest Laker memory was overhearing my dad tell my mom that the Lakers were going to be good again, "because they've got Magic back." This would have been sometime in '81, whenever Magic Johnson returned from the knee injury that sidelined him for most of that season. I was confused by my dad's comment, not understanding who or what he was talking about. He told me who Magic was, and explained the nickname: "He plays so good, it's like magic." A love began that would last a lifetime.

I don't remember the Lakers' championship in '80, but I do remember the one in '82, and every one thereafter. I also recall some bitter defeats and disappointments along the way.

Then, there was the dry spell from '88 - '00, a twelve-year drought in which the Lakers did not win a title. In fact, they weren't always very good at all.

Fortunes turned, and the Lakers rose again. From 2000 - 2002, the Lakers won three consecutive NBA titles, led by the tandem of Shaquille O'Neal and Kobe Bryant.

During this period, I found myself comparing this team to the Lakers' teams that won five titles in the '80s, led by Magic Johnson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. My memories of the earlier squad were much more favorable, their period of dominance being a happy time in my mind, marked by consistent play and team harmony. The more recent championship run, as exciting as it was, was not nearly as happy. This team was marked by inconsistency, up-and-down play, and periodic dissension between the stars of the team. It just wasn't as fun to be a fan.

The main difference, however, came in the nature of the victories of these teams.

The earlier Lakers' teams consistently played to their ability. It took a worthy opponent to test them, and it took a superior opponent to take them down. I remember many lopsided victories over teams that just couldn't keep up, and some epic battles against teams that could. Not often did a lowly team play beyond their ability to challenge these Lakers.

The more recent team, however, was a different story. I can't back this up with any data, but I just don't remember many blowout wins by this team. Sure, there was the time in the spring of 2001, when they demolished San Antonio in a playoff series, but I don't recall many victories like that. I don't remember many 20-point wins. I do remember a lot of 1-point nailbiters and needless overtimes. I remember opponents that should not have been able to challenge these Lakers taking them deep into the late rounds. I was there in person one night in Dallas in 2000, to see the flat-footed Lakers succumb to Shawn Bradley draining endless 20-footers, leading the Mavericks to victory, late in a season in which the Lakers would actually win the title. Why?

It was so frustrating to see a team that should have dominated, never quite giving their opponents what they might have given them. To be sure, much credit is due to the level of talent on opposing teams. It's quite possible that there just wasn't the gap in ability between these Lakers and their opponents, as there was between the '80s Lakers and their opponents. But, watching it as it happened, it just seemed that the effort and focus were not always there, and that that could have made a difference. These Lakers were the masters of the narrow victory, which made for some exciting finishes, but also much needless heartache and heartburn.

I was not alone. The Lakers' General Manager at the time was Jerry West, himself a legendary Laker star. West was seen several times over this three-year period leaving the arena during the late minutes of a game, finding himself unable to watch as these Lakers barely held a slim lead, or tried to regain the lead in the waning minutes. He shared the frustration of many fans who, while appreciative of any victory, wondered if it really had to be so hard.

In the world of sports, a win is a win, and when it comes right down to it, players and fans alike will take a win over a loss any day, regardless of the margin of victory.

However, the margin of victory is important in other areas.

A political candidate who wins an election will be told his mandate to act in the new leadership role is closely tied to the margin of victory he enjoyed on election day. A diligent student will not be happy with simply passing a test, but will hope for a dominating performance. And, a person of faith needs to know that the source of life to which he looks is not merely capable of meeting his needs, but is far and away the best choice available.

God created man. He gave man the free will to love God or not. He redeemed man through His Son Jesus Christ. He lives in His children through His Holy Spirit. The Christian's victory is already won, by a loving God who is merciful toward man, but will have no mercy for Satan on the last day.

Our God is not the God of the narrow victory.

His victory over Satan is total and final. It was never close. Now, it's just a matter of time, and all Satan can do is hurt as many of God's children as he can before he runs out of time. It's a pathetic, last-ditch effort by a bitter, defeated enemy. Yes, potentially lethal to his victims, but hopeless against the power of God.

Have you put your faith in the God who has already won your battle? Or, are you struggling against yourself, trying to eke out a slim, ever-shifting lead against your temptations and shortcomings?

Are you allowing God to dominate sin in your life? Or, is an unworthy opponent needlessly pushing you to your limit?

It really doesn't have to be that hard.