Strength of Character

42 is one of the best movies I have ever seen.  In spite of what you may have heard, it is not primarily a movie about baseball, but rather a movie about the power of the human spirit to triumph over evil.  It is a movie about the power of personal character, the power of faith, and the power of family.   Yes, it is a movie about Jackie Robinson, one of the most famous major league baseball players who ever lived, but what moved me most when I recently saw the movie was not the strength of his baseball skills, but rather the strength of his character.Bud Selig, the Commissioner of Major League Baseball, said this week, “There are a lot of great things that have happened over the years, but I have often said that Jackie Robinson's coming to the big leagues is not only the most powerful moment, but the most important moment.”  He made this statement while visiting Milwaukee this week where he spoke with students of Roosevelt Middle School of the Arts about the movie.   Accompanying him that day was a very special guest, a woman by the name of Sharon Robinson, who just happens to be the daughter of the late, great Jackie Robinson. The middle school students were treated to a special showing of 42, the movie that tells the story of Jackie Robinson's rookie year with the Brooklyn Dodgers.  On April 15, 1947, Robinson became the first black man to play Major League Baseball.   While the movie highlights Robinson's amazing athletic strengths, it is his strength of character that is most memorable. When Jackie's daughter, Sharon Robinson, asked the students, after having just seen the movie, how they would describe her father, the things they commented on were his bravery, self control, strength, power, determination, and the fact that he never gave up.  I find it fascinating  that they all spoke about Robinson's character, and not his ability to steal bases or hit with power to the opposite field. The movie makes it clear that there were three factors that gave Robinson the strength to endure the horrific racism he encountered.  The first was his own personal strength of character.  The second was the moral compass of his Christian faith.  And the third was the strength of his marriage to his wife, Rachel. All three are movingly portrayed in the movie.

Bravery. Self-control. Strong and powerful. Determination.  Never giving up.  This is how the middle schoolers remembered Jackie Robinson.  Wouldn't we all want to be remembered in this way?  We don't need to be national icons to exhibit these qualities.  What we do need though is strength of personal character, a strong moral compass, and strong, supportive relationships.

Fear Is Not the Only Force At Work in the World

In 1980 I ran my first marathon and have run dozens more since then in Chicago, Nashville, Philadelphia, Milwaukee, and many other cities. And I have had the honor of running the Boston Marathon twice. In my opinion, the greatest part about marathons is what we runners call "the human race." We relish the fact that the whole human race is represented: young and old and male and female compete together, those who are running and those who compete in wheel chairs as well, sighted and blind runners run side by side, and runners from every corner of the globe run together in races like Boston. And in no other sport do the world's elite athletes in their sport participate in the exact same event as the average, everyday athlete. When we runners have talked about the whole human race being present at every marathon, we never imagined that description to include the possibility of terrorists, but from this week going forward we will. In Boston this week, it turns out that "the whole human race" included about 25,000 runners, 500,000 spectators and 2 (the best guess at this point) terrorists. Boston is a painful reminder that within the whole human race we find the best and the worst of human behavior.

In the midst of all that I have read and seen this week, the words in the image at the top of this article have stayed with me. "Fear is not the only force at work in the world." I love these words because they honor the fact that fear is indeed part of what we all feel after a terrorist attack, and yet at the same time these words remind us that there are so many other forces at work in the world both before and after an attack like this.. Both the runners and the responders showed us that love, courage, compassion, commitment, discipline, sacrifice, faith, and hope are also very much alive and at work in the world.

We have a saying in Living Compass that says, "whatever we pay attention to is what will grow." For me, this means this week that I am allowing myself to feel my fear, grief, and anger, while at the same time I am giving most of my attention to the countless demonstrations of character and conviction that I have also witnessed this week in Boston.

The valley of the shadow of death is indeed real. Life is horribly unfair at times. Bad things happen to good people. The 23rd psalm does not deny the valley of the shadow of death, while at the same time it reminds us that we do not have to be consumed with fear. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil." I take this to mean that while I will feel fear, I need not get stuck in that feeling. I can walk through that valley of death and of fear and emerge on the other side filled with hope, love, healing, and even forgiveness. That journey through the valley of death and fear is not easy. It takes time, commitment, discipline, and perseverance--something the 23,000 runners at the Boston marathon know a lot about and who in this midst of our fear serve as an inspiration for all of us.

When We Can't Untangle Ourselves

This is a picture of a humpback whale in great distress just outside of the Golden Gate bridge in California.  The whale had become entangled in numerous crab nets and traps and was struggling for survival when a fisherman saw the whale and radioed for help.  The whale was getting weaker and failing fast. When help arrived it became clear that there was no way the whale was going to be able to free itself.  The more frantically it tried to escape the nets the more they tightened.  The only possibility of saving the whale was for divers to enter the water with knives to cut the nets off of the whale.  This was of course going to be risky, but was less than might be expected as the whale was so exhausted.

The divers began their rescue attempt and the divers who were working near the whale's head reported that they felt the whales eyes watching them as they slowly the nets.  The divers' courageous efforts were successful and soon the whale was free.  Before the whale swam off, the whale circled the boats several times, seemingly saying a thank you for saving its life.

I have been both the whale and the divers in this story at different times in my life.  I have been the one in need of help and the one to offer help.  I'm guessing this probably is true for most of you as well.    There have been times when I've been tangled up in worry about how I was handling a difficult situation and other times when I have been tangled in grief or self-doubt.   What has made all the difference in such a situation is when a friend or loved one has taken the time to listen to my worries and thoughts, and helped me sort through them.  A listening ear, and a listening heart, can help set us free and help give us the clarity we need to choose a course of action, resolve our worry, or move through grief.

I have worked with many people in my ministry who find themselves tangled up in shame, guilt, and self-criticism.  This in turn often manifests itself in more tangles--tangles with alcohol or drugs, or tangled up relationships.  While the divers used knives to free the whale, the primary tool we have to help others who are ensnared in shame and self-criticism are simply our loving and compassionate presence.  One conversation at a time, we can help cut the cords of whatever nets are binding them.

Perhaps you know someone who is tangled up in some way right now.  Maybe it is you.  Any of us can get entangled in worry, grief, self-doubt, anger, some kind of addiction, or an unhealthy relationship.  Perhaps the story of the whale who was helpless and the divers who risked getting involved will inspire us to either reach out for help or do what we can to make a difference for another, whichever the case may be.  The divers had no idea if they would be successful or not, and yet they had the courage to try, and the whale was able to trust that the divers could help.  May we be inspired to do the same, whoever we are in the story.

The Chess Teacher

I learned two very important lessons this week playing chess with a stranger in Washington Square Park in New York City.  I am in New York for several meetings related to Living Compass, including an all-day presentation at General Theological Seminary.   I had some free time one sunny afternoon, and being an avid chess player, I walked over and observe some games being played by locals at Washington Square Park.  The park's chess players are quite famous and have been featured in many movies, most notably Searching for Bobby Fischer.  Playing a game of chess at Washington Park has always been on my bucket list and I'm happy to say it has now been crossed off.  

As I approached the chess tables in the southwest corner of the park, I noticed there were several intense games going on.  Many had several spectators surrounding them and so I excitedly joined in to watch some very high level chess chess, hoping to learn a thing or two.  I walked around for some time, watching several games, when I heard a man call out to me.  He motioned me over and asked if I wanted to sit down and play a game.  I was delighted to do so.  We introduced ourselves and I found out his name was James.

James,  whom I had noticed earlier while I had been observing the other games, had been sitting by himself, surrounded by a few bags of what I assumed were all of his worldly possessions.  He was now at a chess table with all the pieces set up when he invited me be play. He graciously offered the white pieces, which if you know anything about chess, is always an advantage.  I tried to defer, but he would not hear of it.  He said he was a regular at the park and I was obviously a guest, and so as a guest I should play the white pieces.

I'm not proud of this, but I was already making the assumption that I was going to be a much better chess player than James based on his appearance, and so that was why I was trying to let him play white to give him the advantage.  Again, and I'm embarrassed to admit this, I made the assumption that a person living on the streets probably wouldn't be very good at chess. This was the first lesson I learned--even though it's something I seem to have to relearn over and over again--I cannot judge a person by their appearances.  How many times have we all done this, and how many times have we been wrong?  Appearances really tell us so little!

I made my first move with white, and  I immediately realized I had misjudged James.  After I completed my opening move (a Queen's Pawn opening for those of you who are chess players) James looked me in the eye and said, “Now there's one more detail we have to agree on.  I play all my games for $10 a game--winner take all.”  The fact that he said this with a glint in his eye made it clear to me that I was in the presence of a brilliant chess player.  I then continued my opening of the game with the Queen's Gambit, which he chose to accept. He then went on to play a variation of defense that I had never seen before, and I play a lot of chess!  I kept thinking to myself, “this man is a genius,” at the same time I was feeling so embarrassed about how I had prejudged him.

The game went back and forth for a long time.  We traded pieces every step of the way and the game was completely even for the first forty-five minutes.  I was hanging on as best as I could when he made a brilliant move to capture a passed pawn I had on the far left side of the board.  In a close game, the loss of one pawn can be the difference between victory and defeat, and in this case that's exactly what happened.  Ten moves later James checkmated me.

I learned two important lessons during my game at Washington Square Park.  The first, as stated, is to be more aware of the filters I use, consciously or unconsciously, as I make assumptions about others.  They are never helpful and are almost always wrong.  Every one of us is much more complex and much deeper than our simple appearance reveals.  The second lesson I learned is this: always advance a passed pawn as early in the game as you can.  You see, after our game ended, James took the opportunity to teach me this lesson.  He recreated from memory the exact set up of the board when he made the decisive winning move.  He showed me how I should have played the situation and how I could have forced a tie game if I had played it correctly.  The lesson was brilliant.  For a good ten minutes he was my teacher and I was his student. I handed James a twenty dollar bill when I stood up to leave.  He said he wasn't sure he could make change for a twenty.  I said there was no need for change--that ten dollars was for his victory, and the other ten dollars was for the lesson about how to advance a passed pawn correctly.   I refrained from mentioning that the more important lesson he had taught me that day, about judging others, was priceless.

Hunting For Resurrection

Some people are uncomfortable with the fact that many of the current customs and traditions that surround religious holidays seem purely secular, having nothing to do with the true meaning of the religious nature of the holiday being celebrated.  The celebrations that surround most Christian holidays, however, include many traditions whose origins are other than Christian.  As Christians prepare for the celebration of Easter, we once again see the mixture of sacred and secular traditions as bunnies, eggs, and resurrection flow together in the celebrations of most people who celebrate Easter. The mixing together of Christian and non-Christian traditions has never really upset me.  In fact, I embrace this confluence of traditions because I believe that in order for anything to actually become an ongoing tradition, it must in some important way connect to and help amplify the meaning of what is being celebrated.  For me, there is ultimately no separation between the sacred and the secular; that which is sacred is present in every aspect of life no matter what day of the year it is.

Our modern celebration of Easter includes many traditions with non-Christian origins.    One of my favorites is the tradition of Easter eggs which comes from an ancient fertility rite.  Who doesn't enjoy placing a hard boiled egg in a cup of dyed water and watching it almost magically take on the color of the dye?  And for the more adventurous, there is the tradition of egg blowing, whereby an egg is carefully emptied through the careful blowing out of the whites and yolk and then carefully decorated.

Then there is my  favorite tradition of all,  the tradition of the hunting for eggs.  I love Easter egg hunts!  I loved participating in them as a child and I loved creating them every year for our three children.   This Easter tradition, while carried out in many homes, is also celebrated in many churches and community centers  as well,     including the White House which has been hosting one for 135 years.

An Easter egg hunt is a perfect example of how a non-Christian tradition helps illuminate and amplify the truth of what Christians are celebrating on Easter.  Easter egg hunts remind us that sometimes we have to look around and do a little searching to discover the signs of resurrection around us.  Sometimes the signs of resurrection are obvious and easy to find and sometimes they are  more hidden and we have to work a little harder to uncover them.  The Easter egg hunt also shows us that we are better off if we  go looking for resurrection together.  Who ever heard of a solitary Easter egg hunt, of a person looking for eggs alone?  The discovery of resurrection, too, is always more fruitful when experienced in community with others and is a lot more fun that way as well. There is one final truth regarding resurrection that we can also learn from the tradition of the Easter egg hunt.  In order for there to even be an Easter egg hunt, someone has to first make the commitment to place the eggs in their hiding places.  When it comes to resurrection it is God, of course, who has already placed the signs of resurrection in countless places in our world.  Now it is up to us to search for them, and when we discover them, to rejoice  with the same delight as young children do at an Easter egg hunt when they discover the hidden eggs. We at Living Compass wish all of you a most joyous Easter.