Titus series: Temperance/self-control

I find that being temperate is exceptionally difficult, especially if one wants to be connected with sports. First, as a coach, I believe I've grown exponentially in this degree. I used to get really worked up about things on the basketball court; my emotions were a constant roller-coaster, unfortunately with a lot of angry words directed towards officials. What's worse is being a fan. It runs in the family to be an especially pessimistic fan and to get pretty upset at the televison or radio based on the actions of 18-23 years olds who I don't even know. Knowing this about myself, I've allowed myself to only follow UNI basketball and football closely - I dropped passionate allegiance to all other teams (aside from perhaps the Phillies from MLB). My mood was too often determined by games, and I was anything but temperate. I'm not any better at this; I just limit the opportunities for my day to be ruined and my remote to be thrown across the room by only following my alma mater (who isn't on TV that often).

I've learned better temperance in my relationships with people over the years. I've grown so much, in fact, that after another teacher hotly criticized the manner in which I teach, it was with a great calm and collected voice that I let her know that I could care less because she isn't my boss. Growth, right? In all seriousness, my job is a big weakspot with temperance. It's easy to go off the deep end in reaction to decisions I don't agree with made my administrators, and teachers are notorious for voicing their frustration with students.

Temperance is a tough balancing act, though. If you never get real worked up about something, you probably aren't passionate about it. Passion is important. Of course, the Titus passage I'm reviewing here encourages building a reputation for a passion for good works. I'm not sure sitting in the 3rd row at the McLeod Center screaming my lungs out at the officials at a Panther basketball game would qualify as "good works." But it's important to have passion about a few things in your life, and with passion comes disappointment. Roy Williams, basketball coach at North Carolina, this week had a good observation. Coach Williams and North Carolina are accustomed to winning a lot, and that's not happening this season. Someone he ran into mentioned to him that in the persepective of the whole world, this bad season wasn't that big of deal. That individual mentioned Haiti. Coach Williams agreed that it wasn't life and death, and Haitians certainly have much more to fret over. However, he reminded the person, "But this team and this game is my life." It's what he had given his time and emotion and energy toward, so it does create wounds when it doesn't go well.

Passion opens the door to not exhibiting temperance, and I think that's okay. I wouldn't describe Christ as temperate when he was doing some major rebuking of the money-changers in the temple. I wouldn't describe Paul as temperate as he risked everything to passionately plead with others to believe in this Christ.

More important in times of great passion is the other word I used in this point: self-control. I've heard a lot of different definitions of self-control, but the one I subscribe to the most is being who you say you are at all times. When I can't be temperate, when my situation is exceptionally high or exceptionally low, am I who I say I am? Are my values still exhibited in my actions? Are my behaviors ones I would say I'm proud of? To me, that's self-control. If I say that I should control my tongue and not speak negatively about others, then I should exhibit that after an especially bad call on the basketball floor. If I believe God is in control and will give me all I need, I'll pray instead of worrying when life gets real rocky. And when I come into money, I'll use it in a way that reflects my belief in building eternal treasure, not temporal treasure. That, to me, is self-control. And when I can't be temperate, I should strive for self-control.