Christ and Compromise

There are times when a middle ground  makes sense. Our political environment would do well to find compromise, solving verbose battles with quiet, level heads behind the scenes while the diatribe-laden "party leaders" fight it out on cable news. Personal relationships of all kinds are often called to follow the advice of the catchy country song, "You start walking your way, I'll start walking mine. We'll meet in the middle . . ." in order to survive. The business environment is fraught with such deals as well. The middle ground is often a place of progress and peace.

It does not, however, belong in the theology of a church.

I got myself worked up when reading a commentary piece by Jon Meacham in this week's Time Magazine regarding the strategy the Anglican church is taking regarding it's stance on a controversial doctrine. One sentence in particular stood out: the bishop had met with former Secretary of State James Baker and the two "agreed to think out possible diplomatic solutions to the crisis."

Diplomatic solutions? Is that the goal now? Diplomacy? Safety? Peace?

Meacham praises this approach through a muddled argument of needing to value some Scripture over others and to evaluate church doctrine in light of history. While I find Meacham to be a thoughtful and skilled writer, and though I have great respect for the tradition of the Anglican Church, I see this goal of diplomacy a severe divergence from Christ.

Christ was anything but diplomatic. Christ overturned tables, chastised, and challenged, boldly declaring "My way or no way." His love was (and is unconditional), but so was his Truth. He was unwavering in his commitment to the will of His Father. He may be known as the Prince of Peace, but He refused to gain that peace through compromise.

Diplomacy is for church league softball, musical choices, and deciding which brownies to serve at the church potluck, not for theology. There is one standard, set by God. The bishop, as a leader, is responsible for passionately, exhaustively, and humbly seeking out truth, valuing that, and communicating it to his followers. Whatever that truth is, on any issue, to that he must cling. If he wants diplomacy, perhaps leading Christ-followers is the wrong position in which to be.

Umpiring Notes

I've already written about what I learned from basketball camp in the month of June, but I find it relevant to write a little about my high school baseball umpiring experience as well.

Being an umpire now for 8 summers has made me a better coach, and being a coach has made me a significantly better umpire. I'm better at each because I'm able to effectively put myself in the shoes of the other. I know how coaches want to be treated, and I know how umpires want to be spoken to. The coach-umpire relationship is fraught with conflict, disagreement, and emotion; yet the good ones (coaches and umpires) find a way to make that relationship work despite the obstacles. Looking at what it takes to make this work provides some keys for all of us who must deal with difficult people in difficult circumstances.

The first question that must be asked in any confrontational situation is this: Why are you talking? Seriously, what's your goal? As an umpire I tell coaches over and over again that they can ask me anything they want to when we're face to face. They can even tell me I'm wrong. I might be. But if they ask the question from the dugout, or from the third base line, they aren't asking to gain understanding; they aren't trying to fix the problem. All of a sudden, they're trying to create a show for the audience. The only reason to shout from 90 feet away is so that others can see you; and if that's the case, then you've already decided that you're right and the other person is against you. I've also seen some umpires say some pretty dumb things as well. The bad ones talk when they don't need to. They're trying to be cute, or garner favor with coaches, or establish that there will be no relationship and no communication because they've already decided that they're always right and above reproach. It's a stupid way to go, if the goal is effective communication and a relationship that works. It's equally stupid everywhere else besides athletic contests as well. 

Secondly, you've got to realize the goal of the one with whom you're speaking. A coach's goal is to win. Every time. An umpire's goal is to go unnoticed by doing their job well. If both the coach and the umpire can keep in mind the main goal of the other, it washes over a number of sins. If coaches know I'm working hard to do my job well as an umpire, yet I happen to miss a call, they'll get over it. If officials know I'm spending countless hours trying to find a way to win, causing me to make comments I shouldn't, they'll work with me. And if coaches and umpires both understand that they share the goal of participating in a well-played, fair competition for teenage athletes, then all the better. You've got to know where the other person is coming from in order to make it work.

Finally, a short memory is key. I miss calls. I run my mouth from the sidelines. I'm less than perfect in both my athletic jobs. So is everyone else. We can either forget the mistakes and move on, working together towards our shared goal, or we can hold on to wrongs and never effectively work together. It's really tough to forget when you think someone wronged you (see my last post). It's tougher trying to go through life seeking perfect people to work with and share your life with.

Whether in a theological debate, a lovers quarrel, next to a co-worker, or speaking with your kids, I think these ideas are instructive. Speak to gain understanding without putting on a show, realize the goals of those in the conversation, and forget a lot. You may not like who you're working with by the end of it, but you may just have given yourself the opportunity to get what want.

Remember Me Not: What I'm Learning From the Life of Steve Jobs

I'm currently reading the biography on Steve Jobs that came out within the last year. I'm only about 125 pages into it (it runs 600 pages), but it's striking how many people remember just how big of a jerk he was.

Right now I'm up to the late 70's and early 80's when Apple was growing and began creating the Macintosh computer. The author performed most of the interviews for this book in the last couple of years. In vivid detail, over and over and over again, the people who worked with him recall specific ugly events from three decades ago. Some remember how innovative he was, even back then; but those memories are drowning in a sea of angry anecdotes.

I don't write this to throw Steve Jobs under the bus. I never met him. I hear he had an amazing mind and revolutionized industries that I don't understand. He was human. But the point here, is clear: people remember the ugly stuff. In bright, colorful (and likely exaggerated) detail, they can still see in their minds the time that you said. . . whatever it was you shouldn't have. And whether or not they respect you or forgive you, they're going to remember when you were at your worst.

I find this especially relevant to coaches. I can't count the number of times I've heard people, especially adults long past their athletic endeavors, recount the time that some coach said this or that, shattered their spirit, and screwed them over. That coach committed the unforgivable sin of saying the wrong thing. Once. Maybe twice. But once or twice is enough to be remembered for a lifetime.

It's not just coaches, though, that are in this boat. We all are. I had one superintendent who was good to me for most of three years; but in his last year working with me, he lied to my face. I haven't forgotten it. I've had friends, past and present, who were great 99% of the time. I've forgotten some of the good; but even though the past is done and there are no grudges, I can still remember the few times I've felt wronged. And I know there are countless students, athletes, co-workers, and friends who will probably remember me the way Steve Jobs' co-workers and friends remembered him.

This is unavoidable, but it doesn't have to be prevalent. Knowing this about human nature, be careful. Today's words matter. Before that first cup of coffee, speak less. When angry or in confrontation, choose words carefully. If you're in a position of authority or influence, demand of yourself to be "on" all the time. Actions may speak louder than words, but words are usually remembered longer when they're the wrong ones.

Notes From Camp 2012: Not a Finished Product

Our week of basketball camp ended with a weekend at the Iowa State team camp. We concluded with a phrase that we like to remind the players of at varying points of the season: "We are not a finished product." Win or lose, in June, the pieces are simply not completely put together. Nobody is as good as they're going to be, and we're not entirely sure what we're going to look like when it's all said and done. The message is the same to individuals and to the team as a whole.

With this perspective, current weaknesses are less daunting, less permanent. Hope for success is abundant and control over the outcome is placed firmly in the hands of the team. The message is clear: whatever you are now, you don't have to be when the season is all over. We can be better, or worse. The opportunity presents itself to define what the finished product should look like, what it will take to make that a reality, and display through action how important that vision is.

We use this phrase in November as well as we prepare for our pre-Christmas games. The phrase is repeated over Christmas break as we adjust and plan for the stretch run. But we don't get to say it in February. As coaches are fond of saying that time of year, you are what you are. The product is ultimately finished, and that product will either match the vision or depressingly count the days until that vision can be forgotten. I've seen both types of teams - those reaching their potential and playing with confidence in the stretch run, and those who will remember their experience as one full of "might-have-been's."

This is an essential phrase for everyone outside of team sports as well because we aren't finished products either. Many aspects of our lives are undefined, developing, fluid. Your reputation is not a finished product. Neither is your marriage or your relationship with your family. Same with your career, your cooking skills, the physical shape you're in, and your relationship with God. We all have time to define what the finished product should look like and take action accordingly.

Ignoring the fact that a product is being formed in a certain area of life won't do any of us any good. The season will end, and you will be in the locker room facing what your final performance turned out to be. Ignoring it just guarantees that the product will be a disappointment. And you can't look at the losses in your past to determine what your vision should look like. Yeah, they mattered. They might have been shattering losses. But the season isn't over with. It might be just beginning. What do you want the end to look like?

What our players must face, and so must all of us, is that each day we're moving toward the end. It's not here. We have time to get where we want to be. But every day we either move closer or further away from that vision of what we want to be. 

This is the last of the 2012 Camp posts. I've enjoyed this series again this year and hope to continue them in the future. If you missed any of the previous posts from this year, you can click on them below:

Look Like You Care

Learn While You're Watching

What If I Didn't Foul?

Notes from Camp 2012: What if I Didn't Foul?

Sportsmanship is a constant theme emphasized by our head coach in the youth camp. Younger kids (who are quick studies) are prone to bickering, especially about fouls and fairness. This is never so true as during the vaunted one-on-one tournament. 

When we're about to begin the tournament every year, we go over the rules in careful detail and then wait for the inevitable flood of questions from the kids. Some are questions that have already been answered; some are questions about obscure, unimaginable scenarios; and others are questions about drinks or the weather. Eventually, someone gets to a question of fairness. This year was no different. Upon discovering that the offense calls the fouls, one kid asked the obvious question: "What if they say 'foul,' and I didn't foul them?" 

Our head coach's response was perfect: "That's how life goes."

While not exactly what the kid wanted to hear, I'm sure, it's exactly what he needed to hear. So do most adults. That's how life goes. Unfairness occurs. Difficult people are all around. Basically, you will get screwed over at some point. Expect it.

I suppose one has to be careful. If you constantly expect the worst from people, that's not good either. But I think it's fair to expect the best and accept that you'll be disappointed at times. Rather than throwing adult-sized fits to all who will listen, desperately seeking for retribution or some judge to declare you the winner, perhaps a better response is a deep breath, a disappointed sigh, and a rugged determination to win anyway.

Christians especially must get better at this. Many of us at some time or another behave as if we believe that because we have God, we should expect comfort. Or at the very least, we should expect to win most of the time here on earth. But that's not the case. Yes, if God is for you, who can be against you? But that doesn't mean you don't live in a fallen world. God was with Daniel, and he was tossed into a den of lions. God was with Jonah, and Peter, and Joshua, and Moses, and Paul. All of them lived under pretty terrible conditions at times. And the Bible is full of their complaints. But almost every one of the complaints is followed by verbal expressions of shame at their doubt in the goodness of God.

There are certainly many losses in this life for which tears are appropriate. Weep for them. But know the difference. If it's just another game of one-on-one, deal with it, silently, and find a way to win anyway.

Notes From Camp 2012: Learn While You're Watching

Very few events frustrate coaches as much as teaching a drill, a play, or a skill to a group of players, have one group perform the task well, and then have the next group stumble cluelessly through. At this point the average coach sighs heavily and repeats instructions. Thirty seconds later, when the next group is up, the same bumbling cluelessness dominates again. Here the strategy amongst coaches differs: some will shake their head, some yell, some patiently reteach once again, and many stare at the assistant coaches in despair and disbelief. This inevitably occurred at camp, and the coaching staff found themselves repeating the phrase "learn while you're watching" over and over and over.

Yet no matter how many times we said it, and no matter how many times we will say it in the future, some kids just aren't going to get it. Unless they're not the one physically doing it at the time, their attention is elsewhere. We had some kids watch a drill for 5 minutes, watch 10 kids in front of them go through the drill, and still be lost or out to lunch when their turn came up to perform a single task. I see it in the classroom all the time as well. I give directions, get asked questions that I've already addressed in the directions, then get asked again. 

Perhaps this is a product of the times. We don't have to really know anything - we can Google it. Forget what you were supposed to buy at the store? Just text and find out. Forget directions? Pull out your phone. No idea when your mother's birthday is? Perhaps Facebook will tell you. 

One cannot be constantly in the action. At some point, we must all sit back and watch in our lives. It's not always our turn. But our turn is coming up. Whether it's finally our turn in a job, a relationship, or a bags tournament, there will be a time to perform. What will you do while you wait? Daydream? Text aimlessly? Complain about the wait till it is your turn? Or learn? 

Get ready. Your turn is coming. And you don't want to be the one causing those sighs and desperate looks from the coaching staff.

Notes From Camp 2012: Look Like You Care

June is basketball camp month; and just like last year, I've collected some of the wisdom from basketball camp that translates to the rest of us as well. Last year I enjoyed this series of posts, as I discussed the following lessons:

• Get in the Gap
• The Word of the Day is "Adversity"
• Make New Mistakes
• Use the Off-Season
• Do Your Ball-Handling Drills

The first lesson from this year's camps is whatever you do, take pride in what you're doing and look like you care. Unfortunately we had some kids come to our team camp, especially junior high kids, who worked hard at appearing as if they didn't care when things weren't going all that well. It's a common trait we see in players when they do not expect to be successful at something. It's the easy way out. If you can't win a rebounding drill, joke about how you can't jump. If you can't lead a sprint, stay comfortably in the middle of the pack and then dramatically hack and wheeze once you're finished. Going to miss most shots you take? Spend your day chucking up half-court prayers, laughing about the ricochets off of teammates' heads.

This behavior is common because if you look like you care and then lose, you fear you might look like a fool. If your weaknesses are funny, though, then at least you're entertained and you can pretend to those around you that you're not any good because you simply don't want to be.

After listening to our head coach have this discussion with players at all levels of our camp, I found myself fearing to find anything in my life that I laugh away and feign detachment. For this behavior is not confined to players. Bad with money? Joke about foolish purchases. Out of shape? Burn those extra pounds off through sarcasm. Distance growing in important relationships? Offer one-liners rather than reconciliation. We are a society who labels as "stupid" or "not worth my time" anything we don't understand or can't do well. 

What do you make light of? About what do you sell to your peers a lack of passion? If there's anything in your schedule that you find yourself reacting in this manner, there's really only two choices to make: get it off your schedule if you don't care about it, or take pride in it if you do. Go hard. Care. If it's worth your time, then it's worth your effort.