The Cheap Seats

I have always been a big fan of basketball, and the NBA (especially during the playoff's). Until tonight, I hadn't been fortunate enough to make it out to an actual game. A buddy of mine got tickets from a friend of his at church, and to my luck, the girl he was going to take couldn't make it.

I had a really great time, even though I had the occasional feeling that I was on a date with my buddy. The Mavs lost to the Trailblazers & Andre Miller went for 52 pts in the overtime win.

While I had a blast I couldn't help but notice something rather interesting. You see, my buddy and I were in the building, but barely. Sitting in the nosebleed section wasn't exactly my idea of a night to remember, especially while squeezed in between a big guy like him, and a rather portly lady who smelled like she was wearing beer perfume.

We spent a large part of the first half scouting out where we would move to in the second half. Low and behold we found some great seats that we open for the plunder. At the half we made our way down, and ended up making it through the third quarter, and most of the 4th before a girl gave us a priceless look as she appealed to her boyfriend who eventually informed us that we were in their seats. We knew it wouldn't last, but enjoyed 15 minutes from the sidelines nonetheless.

By night's end, I found myself thinking around the differences between watching a game from the cheap seats, and being in the floor. Of course the obvious, "they're closer" comes to mind, but they're still playing the same game. I really didn't even like either team playing (kinda hate the Mavs though). So I found myself looking to those around me.

There seemed to be a direct correlation between the quality of our seats and the type of people around us. It was like a beauty contest down near the court. The average guy sitting court-side was wearing pointy 'ALDO' shoes, tight jeans with bedazzled butt pockets, skull encrusted dress shirt or v-neck (sometimes both), and big sunglasses either on his face, or nestled in his fauxhawk. Accompanying our friend is the beautiful woman, with double d's falling out, botoxed lips, and hair extensions.

The general assumption that I took away was that generally speaking, the beautiful people sit next to the show. Far away from the mongrel race that calls the upper deck home. I know it's out of left field a bit, but...how great is it that the Kingdom of God is nothing like this.

There's a lot of money in Dallas, and a lot of BIG churches. If I'm not careful, I could easily fall into the misunderstanding that those rich, and important people are the ones watching the Lord work, as "He" has them build goliath sized sanctuaries and reaching other rich, and important people.

In fact I'm almost convinced it's works in quite the opposite manner. It's the poor in spirit the person who owns the kingdom of heaven? Aren't the mourners the ones comforted? The people who see the whole show of God's glory are the pure in heart right?

I guess I don't have a paradigm changing statement to propel my thoughts to the important things. But I sure am glad that I don't have to make myself look beautiful, important, or rich in order to see God move and work.

Sometimes I like to break a mental sweat.

So, for those who don’t know me too well, I sell computers at….well, let’s just call it the “fruit stand”. A daily part of my job is showing our customers all the awesome features, and functions of their devices.

The other day I came upon just such an opportunity that proved to be a bit more challenging than any interaction I’ve ever had in the store. A gentlemen walked in the store, late forty’s/early fifty’s, he had a mustache, and a note pad, which is code for “I need to learn something” (The notepad is the code, not the mustache). I gave him the usually friendly greeting, “Welcome to the ‘fruit stand’. Can I help you find something?” “Yeah,” he replied, “I was wondering if you guys had any books that could teach me some stuff about my phone. You see I have a little bit of a memory problem, and it would be really helpful if I could see the users manual in written form.”

I took him to the back and showed him some of the books we have on the phone, all the while probing to see what kinds of stuff he was going to use the book for. “Is there anything specific I could maybe answer for you?” I asked. “Yeah,” he replied, “as a matter of fact there is. I’ve been having a bit of difficulty with my calendar app. See here, I can open the app like this, but I can’t close out the screen.” I told him, “Yeah, if you push this ‘home’ button there in the bottom center, it will take you back to your home screen, and close out the app.” He gave me a bewildered look, and inquired some more. “But when I open up the app again that stuff’s still going to be there.” The confusion became contagious, “Well yeah,” I said, “you’ll want to have that information so you can ad appointments, and schedule events in your calendar.” Seemingly a little frustrated he said, “But I want to clear out the screen, I don’t want to see this calendar!” So for the next 45 minutes I ran around in circles with this man, teaching him multiple times how to add, delete, and edit all his events in the calendar, all the while trying to explain to him the purpose behind the app, and the benefits he’d get from using the app properly.

Somewhere around the 30 minutes mark it struck me, this is too often how my relationship with God looks. I tried to imagine looking at myself from his perspective, and the patience he has, and is showing while teaching me how to live, and love well. Like the man with memory problems, I read the users manual, and listen to the spirit’s reasoning with blinders on, and cotton in my ears. Some how the electric pulses in my brain are being blocked, and I leave the interaction frustrated wondering why I can’t learn. I become the man James speaks of who looks at himself in the mirror, and then when he walks away from it, forgets what he looks like.

Praise God that he is a tenured teacher, and far more skilled than I. Slowly and surely I begin to see that his way is much more beautiful, much more user friendly. The lag between his teaching, and my comprehension that have always proven so frustrating to me, builds in me a trust in him because of his kindness, compassion, and patience. “His school is tough, and is one of brokenness” as I’ve heard Swindoll say before. God give me strength to embrace the brokenness that leads to breakthrough.

Escaping the Beauty

I love the Rocky mountains! If you've never been, they're kind of difficult to explain without trying to sound like a poet. Said most simply, they're "take your breath away" beautiful. They make you feel small in the grand scheme of things, like you could simply tuck yourself away in a fold of the mountains and live there without any worries.

I was born there at the foot of Pike's Peak, knowing nothing other than these mountains until grade school when I moved to Florida. We made it back often throughout each year, and every time without fail, I was caught saying "wow". Whether driving through a pass of mountains, or sitting on a rock on a hike and just taking in the landscape, their beauty is inescapable.

It struck me this week, however, usually around a week or so into my trip, they become somewhat normal. Not their beauty is any less than picturesque, but that they have simply become familiar.

Too often this is how it works with the people and places we become familiar with, their humor, and uniqueness, their skills and strengths, and even their beauty can seem to become somewhat tarnished. It's almost as if we can easily forget the greatness of the things that are closest to us.

David prayed to the Lord in Psalm 27:4 and asked that he might gaze upon the unique in incomparable beauty of the Lord. What we have seen in our day is the fulfillment of that beauty in the life of the God-man Jesus Christ. He is the essence of humility, serving those who were hard to serve, loving the unlovable, and seeking out those who sought to tear him down. His was a mission of grace, revealing the beauty of God through the gospel of reconciliation and surrendering his life for the atoning sacrifice of all who believe.

He has made this reconciliation available to us, and we are invited into restored into relationship with God through Christ. This is tangible beauty, this beauty is here and it is ever-present. The crux of this beauty, however, is that it far too often becomes familiar, and in that familiarity, the beauty of our Holy God can become sullied in our own eyes.

What is lacking in my life when I see the Lord like this is the same thing that escapes me when the Rockies become less beautiful; it's perspective. We are finite beings, who live in houses that will erode, and bodies that will become dust very soon. We must look to truth to see everything as God does. Through his scripture he reveals himself, and his great desire for all men to know him. The works of his hands are evident as we gain this perspective, and as we see him as He truly is, we will see him in all His glory high and lifted up, as our great God and King, beautiful.

Tolerance

    Our system is broken. Everybody knows it, and we all believe we have the answer to the problem. Ideologies of life, morality, and politics divide us into tightly defined bunkers as we hurl napalm filled labels at one another. These segments of our culture rally around a spoken word, common idea or visible leader, working to overthrow our enemy who just happens to live a few houses down. In a fight like this cowardice abounds, but it often goes by a familiar name that in a brilliant marketing move sounds much more crisp and unifying, tolerance. Tolerance is the new “trump card” in the argument between right and wrong.

    Postmodernity offers plenty of insight into the topic, yet completely fails to recognize its true meaning mostly due to it’s inability to recognize anything as universally true. Through a postmodern lens we are forced to view competing ideas as equally real, fair, or valuable. Because after all, it might be true for you. We are no longer tolerating the individual, we are tolerating their ideas.

    Historically in the modern area, an understanding of tolerance was placed upon the individual himself. Instead of defending an opponent’s theory, we were defending the opponent. This is where true tolerance must return, “While I think your opinion is absolute garbage for these following reasons, I aggressively and wholeheartedly defend your right to defend it.”

    If we can push through the emotion of the moment, and break through the thick tags and labels, we’ll find flesh and blood, real people with real problems. The fact is that truth exists, and scripture calls us to be equipped to defend the truth while offering grace to those who see things differently.

John Piper Interviews Rick Warren on Doctrine

John Piper Interviews Rick Warren on Doctrine

Really great conversation by two of the most recognized leaders in the world-wide evangelicalism.

Work In Progress

I recently told a friend in what was a very open moment, "When God crushes you it hurts." And boy does it ever! Why then, does it take crushing to grab our attention? It's so against everything we’ve been taught to enjoy such a pounding. I’d much rather be coasting through life picking flowers, and catching rays of sunshine in a bottle.

I’ve spent my whole life trying to avoid pain. I run from it in many ways, and lean towards the side of caution nearly every chance I get. Why is that? Is it my past experiences that have shaped me to long for safety, or is it simply human nature to covet the road most frequently traveled? Personally I have come to realize that neither question matters.

I’ve gone through such a season, for that matter I suppose I’m still in it. Throughout the whole process I have asked God for perspective and I must say that he’s beginning to give me bits and pieces. He showed me my insides and they’re ugly. My motives have been checked at the counter, and the Airline attendant has charged me out the butt for the excess baggage. To sum it up, He’s shown me that Glenn Gordon is a proud and arrogant person who is in love with himself and the things that God can give me. I cherish the idea of being viewed as one carrying the banner of Christ proudly, which is an oxymoron worthy of the harshest of eye-rolls. For the most part I’ve done a great job throughout the years of curbing these convictions due to reasons unbeknownst to me.

But at this point, do the why’s matter? I’m not sure, but what I do know is that the question of, “what now?” will be the catalyst that determines which way my life goes. The answer will in essence determine whether or not my life makes a difference to the kingdom of God.

Quite frankly I only see two roads for my life. Road number one is a dark road, filled with potholes and speed bumps. There are a lot of travelers on this road. It’s a thoroughfare of pride, the road Satan himself carved and forded first when he aspired to be higher than God. From his marketing campaign it looks like a fun ride. Everywhere you look billboards scream about the treasures that are in store on the road marked by self-importance. They say that Glenn deserves to be recognized, that he’s a commodity to the world. These signs tell him that the world needs him, and that his decision to travel on this road could be a milestone in history. They tell him how his ministry can effect lives positively, and how he’ll get all the credit. They scream to him about how valuable he is in the grand scheme of things and that he only needs to look to himself to find the motivation to walk. They’re all lies. It isn’t difficult to walk on this road at all; anybody can do it, in fact most do. But it leads to a lonely empty room filled with the thoughts of what might have been.

Road two is a road marked by the pursuit of humility, where motives are continually checked, and the Lord is given free rein to work in Glenn through whatever means necessary. Humility road is filled with accountability and hard questions. The other people on this road don’t look like the rest of the world. To those on Pride road these people look like servants, weaklings who allow people to push them around. However nothing could be further from the truth. Their strength is found in their savior who through His perfect grace takes their weaknesses and uses them to display His power. They deflect any attention, or praise given them to the one who offered them the ability to surrender. Those on this road don’t do this so people will tell them how humble they are. No, their treasure is round in the intimacy with the One who is waiting at the end of this road with open arms. There isn’t necessarily a picture of this leader to which the travelers strive, yet He sent somebody who knows the way and has left a roadmap to follow. He traveled the road better than any other traveler could. Fact is that He was the only man to complete the trip. He was the most humble of anyone, and his victory offers hope to the other sojourners.

The destination of the road to humility is ironically glory. There is this principle that we read throughout the Bible, that those who humble themselves before the Lord are eventually lifted up in due time. For most of my life this has been my desire. I knew this principle, and figured if I just talk myself down then I will be lifted up. It makes sense, right? See the only problem here is that my self-degradation, and self-denial were shallow masks for a proud and hard heart. They are just that mine. Humility isn’t thinking less of myself, it’s not regarding myself at all. Humility is being so wrapped up in God that his will is foremost on my thoughts.

So now Glenn is left with the choice to follow this man called Christ on a tough road filled with repentance and brokenness or his own heart. Everything around him pleads for him to follow his heart, but while pride offers momentary exaltation the road less traveled offers hope, and a final result that will last forever.

I know which road I want to take, and I know what is needed to get me on this road. One of my favorite quotes I’ve head came from a chapel service where Chuck Swindoll said, “When God wants to do an impossible task, He takes an impossible person and crushes them.” This is made evident thought the entirety of scripture. God continually kicks the crutches out from under those He wishes to use in His kingdom. In some ways it makes perfect sense. God wants us to understand that we can’t do it, that we are powerless to fulfill His will on our own accord. Whatever he has called me to, I am powerless to complete apart from his Grace. I must rely on his power to support me and guide me to be the humble servant that He calls all of us to be. A continual submission like this isn’t something that comes naturally, but it begins with the understanding of the depravity of our flesh initiated by crushing.

This is the perspective I have so long wanted. The understanding that I am at this place in my life right now because He needs to show me that He can be trusted and that I cannot. His ways are most certainly higher than mine, and in some strange way I sometimes think He gets a kick out of telling me this.

Therefore I have decided to pursue humility, to enjoy the crushing while it lasts, and to take advantage of the position he has placed me in. Right now He has me here so that I can see Him for who He is, myself for who I am, and the tremendous chasm that separates the two.

Times like these make me understand the incredible nature of the gospel. That a bridge builder, a road paver can lead through humility to life that is worth living. A life more adventurous than one lived for my own gain, that looks beyond “self” and values the will of God above all else.

Gordon Ramsay, Dude, and The Manhood Challenge

So I had another dream last night. I found myself in on a construction site. The concrete slab was formed, the outside walls were up, but the interior was gutted. I immediately felt familiar with the situation, "Of Course! I'm framing." Yet I didn't recognize anybody else on the framing crew. I put on my belt, and walked to the trailer to unload my tools for a normal day of manual labor. To my surprise when I walked out the door I was met by the one and only Gordon Ramsay. Yes that Gordon Ramsay, world renown chef, and TVs face of the reality cooking show Hell's Kitchen. 

Initially I was a bit unnerved, I recently had a dream in which Chef Ramsay was a drug smuggler who forced me to smuggle cocaine into the public school system at the threat of the ones I love (I also remember something about talking sharks, or dolphins, I'm not quite sure. Either way though, it was a doosie). Skeptical as I may have been of his integrity, Chef Ramsay began laying out the ground rules for the competition. "WHAT COMPETITION?" I thought, "I didn't sign up for this. Well at least it's not illegal." Smacking his palm with the back of his hand Chef Ramsay spoke, "Let's begin, Yes? Today as part of your manhood challenge we'll be framing out the interior of this new home. Right! As part of the program you will be paired up into teams of two and receive one set of blue prints. Here's the kick of it, we only have one set of tools on location to share amongst the lot of you." 

At this point I looked around to see who I might want to pair up with. A guy approached me and asked me if I wanted to work with him, strange thing is I knew this guy. He was on a the crew that decked out our house on Whitehall with my dad, my brother, and I. I didn't remember his name, and still don't so I just called him "dude" and "man" the whole time. Dude's a great framer, psycho as all get-out, but a great framer. His skin looks like a well seasoned baseball glove, and not those plastic looking ones you buy at wall-mart, the $250 kangaroo leather kind. He was rockin' the long curly hair, shirtless obviously, baggies, and a pair of Chuck Taylors. Dude sort of sontered as he walked kinda like John Wayne, or Hass from Bonanza. Dude smoked like a chimney, and from the sound of it his voice box has taken the toll, he said it keeps him skinny.

We were all aloud to pick one tool from the trailer to use the entire challenge. I took a skill saw, and Dude picked up a nail gun. We figured it was the obvious choice since it came with an air hook up. I don't know how we ended up with the nail gun and the saw, everybody else was waking around with hand tools while dude and I were setting up our fully powered tools. 

Dude and I began on a wall near the back of the house. I was cutting and Dude was nailing. We were throwing walls up left and right, we even framed out several archways. I'm still not sure how we did so well, framing is often difficult without any form of tape measure. But that didn't stop us. 

The single pervading thought I had throughout the whole dream was, "I better get a good lead in the framing part of the competition. Lord knows I'm going down in the automotive leg." 

Though I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to think from this dream, I often wonder if I have some kind of subconscious desire to be a reality show contestant, or maybe a chef on Hell's Kitchen. For all I know maybe this is me doubting my manhood because of my lack of automotive skills. Either way I though it was a dream worth having.