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.