It has often been said that a true test of character is what type of person you are when no one else is watching. And while I certainly believe there's truth to that, I think there's an even more true test of character:

The person you TRULY are is the person you are when you've been insulted, persecuted, or attacked. And if that's the case, then Jeremy Lin's story is less about basketball than it is about an example of faith that every Christian would do well to follow.

In case you were asleep in a cave or something during the first months of 2012, allow me to catch you up on Jeremy Lin's story in three sentences:

Lin is a Harvard-educated Asian-American who wanted to play in the NBA.

Lin was either overlooked or cut by literally every NBA team, including the one that begrudgingly gave him a contract.

Lin finally got a chance to show what he could do in a desperate attempt by a coach to save his job, and when he did, he set the world on fire with his play, sparking the New York Knicks to a winning streak and becoming a household name overnight.

There - if you needed it, you're now caught up. As it turns out, though, Lin's story was the type of real-life tale that nearly everyone could relate to. We've all failed at something we love at one time or another; we've all been pigeon-holed into a place we've never wanted to be; we've all felt like the underdog. And whether you're an unathletic Ivy Leaguer, Asian, from New York, or a fan of sports in general, Lin's story was absolutely captivating.

Of course, as we've discussed in this space before, the world is fickle. Lin's opportunity disappeared as soon as it appeared, and the player everyone was clamoring for turned into just another injured body on the bench of a mediocre team in a not-so-popular professional sports league. But it was then that the Jeremy Lin story showed its true colors.

That's because Jeremy Lin showed who he is when he's offended, insulted, and hurt. During the height of the 'Linsanity' fervor, a headline went up on ESPN.com that included a racial slur that anyone with a pulse should know is absolutely, dead wrong. The headline cost the employee responsible his job, and for all anyone knew, that was the end. But for Jeremy Lin, it was important that the man knew something: he was forgiven. Lin sat down, shared a meal with a man who had publicly humilated him on a national scale, and, most important, showed him the grace and love that his faith in Christ demands.

As impossible as it seems sometimes, Jesus taught His disciples that as often as someone sins against us, we are to forgive them. And there are no stipulations to this - we aren't just to forgive those who are truly sorry or who show us they've changed; we are just to forgive those who we want to be friends with or who who will never again hurt us. That type of forgiveness is common in even the most wicked kingdoms of men. Instead, Jesus wants us to live as citizens in a different kingdom - a better kingdom, a kingdom based on love, mercy and compassion.

For Jeremy Lin, living in that kingdom meant that he would show grace, even if it was inconvenient, difficult, or embarrassing. And it's that character, rooted in a real relationship with Jesus that is most powerful about the Jeremy Lin story. Basketball, after all, may only last a few years at best; being a real example of Christ will last an eternity.

If Jeremy Lin can do it, you can too. You can forgive; you can show grace. And if, as you read these words, someone pops in your head and you immediately say to yourself, 'anyone but him (or her),' chances are good that's precisely the person you need to forgive - even if they've never asked.

I understand that sounds  (L)insane. But hey - sometimes following Christ is. 

God has said, 'I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.' - Hebrews 13:5b

If it can happen to Peyton Manning, it can happen to you. And that means one thing: in the world's eyes, you are disposable.

Take it from someone who spent the first eighteen years of his life a little more than a half hour from downtown Indianapolis: no athlete meant more to a city than Peyton Manning. Not Albert Pujols to St. Louis; not Derek Jeter to New York; not even Michael Jordan to Chicago. For most of my childhood, the Indianapolis Colts were, at best, an afterthought, and at worst, a joke. I wasn't raised to be a Colts fan for much the same reason my friends in Missouri weren't raised to be Kansas City Royals fans; life is hard enough without having to root for a perennially terrible sports team on top of it.

But all of that changed in 1998 when the the absolutely horrendous Indianapolis Colts landed the first pick in the NFL draft, and with that pick, landed the best prospect in years: quarterback Peyton Manning out of the University of Tennessee. I didn't jump on the bandwagon, mainly because there was another new to the state of Indiana quarterback at Purdue University that was causing me to fall in love, but for those who did, they were treated to 14 years of football bliss: 12 years where the Colts won 10 games or more; 4 MVP trophies; countless records; two trips to the Super Bowl, with one trophy. The Colts had gone from a joke to a model franchise nearly overnight, and it was all due to number 18. And because of the Colts' success, the city of Indianapolis was energized, building a new stadium and even hosting this year's Super Bowl, a rare honor for a cold-weather city. Peyton Manning had put Indianapolis on the national map, and he had given the city and the state of Indiana something to be proud of for more than a decade.

And for Manning's troubles, today, the Colts cut him.

The reason is simple: Manning sustained an injury and may never be the superstar, Hall of Fame player he once was again. Of course, he might - but there's also a chance he might not. Plus there's another can't-miss, hot-shot quarterback prospect waiting for the Colts in this year's draft. So, after the best 14 sports years the city of Indianapolis has ever seen, Manning is gone - because he might not be quite as useful as he once was.

He might as well be a prized race horse with a broken leg, and the Colts may as well have taken him out back with a shotgun and put him down.

Now, I'm not expecting you to feel sorry for a millionaire athlete. Sure, he now has two choices: stop playing the game that he loves and change careers, or uproot his family, leave his home, and find another place to live in a few short months. And yes, I do, personally, think that anyone who criticized Pujols' move to Anaheim this offseason for being 'greedy,' and 'betraying' the city of St. Louis should recognize that loyalty goes both ways in sports, and teams exhibit less loyalty to their players than players ever have to their teams. But more than anything else, there's a larger point here:

In the world's eyes, you are disposable.

To the Indianapolis Colts, Peyton Manning was disposable. He was worth keeping around as long as he was at the top of his game; as long as he guaranteed them the playoffs; as long as he was 100% healthy. Like the Thomas and his train-friends, as long as he was a 'useful engine,' Manning was welcome in town. But the second he isn't (or, someone can do his job cheaper), he's gone. This is precisely the way all people are treated in this world.

How many times have we seen people give decades to a company only to be shown the door just a few short years before retirement? How many husbands have traded in their wives for a younger model once their children have been raised and are out of the house? How many friendships have ended because, after years of one side using the other, there's no more water in the well and they move on to the next? How many veterans risk everything to serve this great nation, only to return to poverty and homelessness?

That's the way the world works - if you're good enough, smart enough, and doggone it, people like you, then the world is your oyster. And the second you're not, you're yesterday's trash, thrown to the mythical place called 'away.'

And that's what makes the gospel such a beautiful thing. When Jesus was on earth, He explained that the Kingdom of God was like a flock of sheep. He is the shepherd, and we are His sheep. And we are loved, cherished and honored by the shepherd, so much so that He will gladly lay down His life for us. Therefore, no one can take us from God's hand - He loves us so dearly, whether or not we're good enough or useful, that He will stand by our side, protecting us from harm for all eternity.

That is real love. And that's the way the world is supposed to be.

Unfortunately, there's nowhere in this world that we can find love like that. To the world and its kingdoms, even someone like Peyton Manning is absolutely, utterly disposable, and that means that you better believe that you are too. So, the question is simple:

Whose hands are you in?

It doesn't matter what you think.

I understand the harshness with which the previous sentence was worded, and I understand equally how that may fly in the face of what you're told on a daily basis. We here in America cherish our own personal opinions and viewpoints, and the right for us to hold to them is one that a great many people have given their lives to protect.


But the truth is the truth: it doesn't matter what you think.

Don't worry, though - you're not alone in this. You can easily substitute 'you' for any other personal pronoun (he, she, they, etc.), and grammatical inaccuracies aside, the point remains the same: it doesn't matter what anyone thinks. What matters is what God thinks.

While there are a great many applications to this principle, perhaps the most important one for our purposes is this one: it doesn't matter what you think about yourself. It doesn't matter what he or she or they think about you. What matters is what God thinks about you.

And to see yourself through God's eyes, you need to see who Jesus really is.

The Apostle John wrote a book nearly two thousand years ago we've called Revelation, and while the majority of commentators since have decided that the best that we can do with it is fruitlessly argue about the end-times, the book remains, perhaps, the best place to see who Jesus really is. Three times Jesus reveals a picture of who He is to John, and three times, John faithfully writes it down for us to see.

The first picture is the Jewish picture of the Ancient of Days, the Creator of the universe, looking like the Son of Man. In other words, Jesus is the perfect marriage of humanity and divinity, and He's standing among the church.

The second picture is of a slain lamb, worthy to reveal God's plans and accepting the worship of angels and those in His kingdom - a kingdom of priests and rulers.

The third picture is a of a conquering warrior king, riding into battle to defend His bride (the church) from all of her enemies. And He does more than defend her; He takes care of her enemies in a grisly, brutal, eternal way.

Those three pictures may not sound like much to the average Christian. Sure, they're cool and all, and yes, they make sweet tattoos if you're into that sort of thing. But for most of us, that's as far as the pictures go. And if that's you (or, if this is the first time you've been exposed to these pictures), it's time to look closer:

The first picture tells you that God loves you so much that He lives in and among you, always.

The second picture tells you that God loves you so much that He was willing to suffer and die so that you could be a part of His royal family, representing Him to the world around you.

The third picture tells you that God loves you so much that you're willing to fight for, even against the biggest, baddest evil in the world.

You are worth God living with. You are worth God living in. You are a priest, holy and perfect. You are royalty, a Prince or a Princess. You are so valuable - even at your worst - that God will fight for you.

It doesn't matter what you or anyone else thinks of you - THAT is the truth about you, because THAT is what God thinks of you. That is the story God is telling about you - no matter who you are - because that's the way God wants it to be.

That leaves you with a choice to make. You can embrace and trust God's story about you - and in doing so, not only gain a relationship with the God who loves you in an unexplainable way, but also eternal life along the way - or, you can hold to the stories you concoct about yourself. You can choose the truth that God tells about you, or the lies that people tell you.

It's up to you. But know this: no matter what you decide, there is only one opinion that really counts.

And it's not yours.

When we, as the church, are discussing the key issues that people in this world talk about, there's a certain way we should approach any conversation. And if at any point during such a discussion should you be curious as to whether or not you're on the right path, just ask yourself a simple question: 'Is what I'm doing the exact opposite of the comic above?' If the answer to that is 'yes,' chances are solid that you're doing precisely as you should.

The internet is a wonderful place for countless reasons. But when it comes to theological pursuits, far too often we're given the type of analysis that the above cartoon gives us. When it was first passed around Facebook yesterday by, seemingly, 75% of my friends, I was initially irritated. The more I got to thinking about it, however, my irritation turned into something much more.

If we went into all the reasons why you and I and everyone you know should be offended by it, we'd be here all day. So let's forget for a moment that commenting on abortion in a cartoon is much too flippant for such serious subject matter. And let's forget that the 'God' of said comment has the attitude of a teenager who's trying to convince his parents that he really did try on that test he got an 'F' on. And for the moment, let's ignore that the message that the comic conveys is somewhere between idiotic and un-provable, depending on your theological bent. Instead, let's simply deal with what seems to be the most pressing issue at hand:

Stuff like this doesn't work. At all.

Let's say, for a moment, that you, like me, believe that God values the sanctity of life, even of the unborn. And let's assume that you take seriously Jesus' instructions to love those around you in the same way that He loves you, and in doing so, it is your sincere hope that you can share the gospel of peace and hope with the world around you, inspiring others to become disciples of Jesus as well. If that's you (and by the way, if you're a Christian and the previous sentences don't describe you, it's time to re-evaluate what you think it means to follow Jesus), then I have an honest question:

How does this cartoon help you succeed in any part of what you're trying to accomplish?

It doesn't promote God's view of the sanctity of life; the God of this comic has thrown up His hands and decided the best approach to communicating this truth is to mouth off to someone who has an honest question about His ways. And it doesn't help spark a conversation with non-believers about why abortion may be wrong; instead, it's simply a zinger that makes Christians give each other digital high-fives and makes non-Christians either seethe or roll their eyes. And most of all, it in no way, shape, or form conveys that we love those people who have made choices in this world that we disagree with. In fact, it conveys the opposite - that we, as Christians, think so little of others that our time is best spent mocking them.

I think that's what Christians miss so often when we discuss something like abortion - we forget that the people we disagree with are human beings with thoughts and feelings and emotions. We pretend like we're the only ones who understand the gravity of what it means to have an abortion, and we portray ourselves as having all the answers to a question that, if only they would accept Jesus would magically become easy. The reason we feel like this, I'd imagine, is simple: we've never taken the time to actually have a real, honest conversation with those who have been faced with such a decision. Instead, we've created a caricature of what we think they must be like (foolish, unfeeling, selfish, etc.), and we've spent our time spreading the word to everyone who can pat us on the back for our observations.

It's time we stopped the nonsense. And when we stop doing things that divide us and, instead, realize that to love our neighbor we must love both the woman who chooses an abortion as well as her unborn child, maybe we can make some real progress. Maybe we can figure out real ways to help, support, and guide those who have made the serious, life-changing decision to carry their unexpected pregnancy to full-term, and maybe we can figure out real ways to share forgiveness, restoration, and redemption with those who have made the serious, life-changing decision to terminate their unexpected pregnancy. Maybe, if we could see that those on the other side of the aisle are people just like us whom God loves and sent Jesus for, we could realize that God's heart is broken not just for the loss of one life, but of two. And then, perhaps we could admit that God's heart breaks for our arrogance, flippancy and hard-heartedness as well.

Or, we can keep making and passing along cartoons. Either way.

It's up to you.

I was appalled. Judging from the standing ovation from the audience, however, I was in the minority.

That, of course, was not surprising - after all, I HAD chosen to go to a concert that I knew going in I would do anything but enjoy. I was invited by a dear friend and church member last week to see Rascal Flatts, a country music 'band' at Mizzou Arena in Columbia. And even though I feel for country music in general what I feel for vegetables (distaste bordering on disgust, even if most people my age don't agree), I chose to go because I like spending time with friends and church members.

The concert itself went roughly the way I assumed it would - the music was not my cup of tea, but everyone else seemed to be having fun and it was a neat experience, music aside. And then, with the final song, everything changed. The song itself was actually quite nice - it was called 'He Ain't The Leavin' Kind,' and while it was certainly cheesy, it was also clearly a song about God's faithfulness, even towards those who don't place their faith in Him. During the song, they projected scenes of churches and crosses and other religious imagery behind them, and while I won't be downloading it anytime soon, I appreciated the message that ended the night.

My appreciation turned into something else entirely, however, when at the very end, they changed the word 'He' (to denote God) in the song to 'they.' The imagery behind them changed from a church to an American Flag, and out trotted six U.S. Marines in full uniform. As the crowd went wild, their song extolling God turned into a song praising the faithfulness of the United States Military.

This was, sadly, not something that surprised me. After all, for many Americans, this country is God's country, and therefore, the people therein are 'God's people.' We are a Christian nation, and therefore, our military exploits must be God-inspired, and our soldiers must be God's servants. To so many people - good people, well-intentioned people - changing the words of a song praising God to praise the military was a nice gesture, instead of the insanity that it clearly was.

Now, please don't misunderstand me: I have zero -ZERO - issue with honoring our troops, both at home and abroad. Our veterans should be given the utmost respect for making the ultimate sacrifice for our way of life, especially when they may not agree with their leaders' politics. And between you and me, it makes me terribly upset to hear stories of veterans who go without medical care or homes or help adjusting when they return home after their active duty. If there's ANYONE our government should help, it's our soldiers who have risked everything to protect and promote its policies. 

But to place a United States Marine on an equal level with God is idolatry. And it's dangerous. When we think that America is a Christian nation and than Americans are God's people is not just wrong (America is a religiously free and neutral nation and God's people are those who are in God's kingdom through Jesus' grace and sacrifice), but it causes us to see the world in a way we were never meant to see it. If America is God's nation, that means other nations aren't, and it gives us 'permission' to fail to show compassion, mercy, and kindness to people of other countries. It breeds within us the arrogance that comes from believing that we've won the cosmic lottery by being born into God's 'chosen' borders, and it stops us from rightfully seeing Jesus as a king of a kingdom that is not bound by time or space or political parties.

And more than anything, it blinds us to the inherent danger that comes from mixing God and government. That's a mistake that so many people over the years have made, including not so inconsequentially, a group of Jewish faithful who pledged allegiance to Rome in order to nail God's Son to two pieces of wood.

It's fine to be a patriotic, proud American. But know this: belonging to the United States has never meant that we belong to God, no matter how much we try to marry the two ideas into one.

And no matter how many people cheer when we do. 

Logically thinking, he should have known better. Of all the mistakes that he could have made, this should have been at the top of the 'do not do' list.

The reason is simple: no other event in the history of his people had been more significant than the Exodus. It was at this point that a group of slaves re-connected with their God and became a nation; it was at this point that they adopted the constitution of laws that would define who they were; it was at this point that the Jewish people became the Jewish people. And the events surrounding the Exodus became their most famous legends and stories: the crossing of the Red Sea. The Passover. The Plagues. Every Israelite knew that the Exodus was to Jewish history what the Revolutionary War is to Americans: a sacred, beloved piece of history that should be celebrated and remembered.

But for King Solomon, something apparently got lost in translation, because the one thing you would think he wouldn't do - enslaving a people group to build massive buildings for his empire - was the one thing he ended up doing. And he didn't just use slaves to build any old structure; he used them to build his temple for God. That's right - he forced other people to re-live his ancestors' darkest moments, and he did so in the name of God. That's as illogical as a group of Americans flying planes into a European skyscraper or a group of modern day Jews attempting to create a master race by exterminating everyone who didn't have brown hair. It wouldn't be just horrifying; it would also show a complete lack of self-awareness.

The truth is, whether Solomon realized it or not, he had become what he hated. Having been blessed with riches and power, he succumbed to the same temptations that his forefathers' enemies had when they were blessed with with riches and power. And so it shouldn't surprise us that this was just the tip of the iceberg of Solomon's corruption, and eventually, he didn't just make poor decisions; he made decisions that severed his relationship with God.

The sobering truth is this: we are all capable of becoming what we hate. All of us - Christian or otherwise - make decisions in our lives to become the people we want to be. But along the way, we're faced with the same temptations that confront all of mankind - even those whom we desperately want to avoid emulating.

That's why it's so important that we embrace the truth that we aren't just going through life with God's help, but that we go through life only because of what God has done on our behalf. We don't overcome the world because Jesus has; He has overcome the world for us. As human beings, we're flawed, weak, and in many ways, helpless.

Logically thinking, we should know better. But the truth is, just like Solomon, we will all, at one time or another, become the very thing that we hate. And it's times like that that we'll be forced to either try to recover on our own, or trust in the one who has earned our recovery for us.

As for me? I'll choose the one who's already done all the heavy lifting, the one who never succumbed to the temptations of man, and never partook in the actions that He so despised. I'll trust in Jesus. 

And that's because I know that I can be Solomon.

For we hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law. - Romans 3:28

You see that a person is justified by works and not by faith alone. - James 2:24


The above two sentences are taken from the Bible, the Holy Scriptures of Christianity. They were written at roughly the same time, by individuals who held similar positions in the early church, and they were written to the roughly equivalent audiences of ancient Christians. If we are to believe mainstream Christian dogma, they also just so happen to be divinely-inspired thoughts from the one, true God of the universe.

So if all of that is true, why does it seem like they teach opposite truths?

Paul's letter to the Romans appears, at face value, to teach that being right with God (i.e. 'justification') comes via our faith and NOT the things we do - even adherence to God's explicit instructions. And James' letter from Jerusalem, at face value, seems to teach the opposite: that being right with God comes from both what we believe AND what we do about those beliefs. What's a person in the church to do when faced with such a conundrum?

If you're like most Christians, you'll simply ask people like me. We are, after all, the 'clergy' of the church, and as educated theologians, we are all armed to the teeth with explanations that answer any and every theological question in a neat, tidy way so that no one - questioning church-goer or atheist antagonist alike - can rightfully say the bible contradicts itself. Maybe they're talking about different 'works,' or a different 'law,' or, perhaps, their definition of 'faith' is different. But regardless, ask any Reverend or Father or preacher worth his or her salt, and you'll come away with a nice, easy answer that places these two passages in a nice, tidy theological box. Having all the answers makes us all sleep better at night, after all.

But what if it's not as easy as all that? What if, instead of trying to find the 'right' Christian theological system, God never intended for us to try to harmonize every bible verse? What if, instead of seeing theology as a box to cram every idea into, God is perfectly comfortable with the tension of competing ideas?

Sound crazy? A little.

But it's no crazier than a teenage virgin giving birth to a Holy Spirit-conceived Son of God.

It's no crazier than a man who walked on water, turned water into wine, and brought the dead back to life teaching that in order to follow Him and be a part of God's kingdom, we will all need to 'pick up our crosses' and 'die' to ourselves.

And it's certainly not crazier than that man dying on a cross as a sacrifice for the sins of mankind and then, three days later, getting up and living again.

As much as we try to rationalize every difficulty in God's word, it seems that there is an awful lot in there that seems impossible that we simply take at face value. And we do so for a whole host of reasons that don't include fitting every theological idea into a box.

When it comes to the tension between so-called 'faith alone' and 'faith plus works,' I can give you all sorts of ways to make them fit together. But maybe God put these different notions in His word on purpose. Maybe a church that believes in Jesus but needs a reminder to care for the orphans and widows outside of their windows would need to hear that God wants their faith to impact their actions. And maybe a church that knows that trusting God means trusting Jesus' words, but is haunted by the specters of their Jewish neighbors who attempt to earn God's favor via the Mosaic Law need to be reminded that there's nothing we can do to make God love us any more than He already does.

Maybe, just maybe, God understands that people are different and need to be treated in different ways at different times.

Or maybe not. I don't know. All I do know is that there's one thing that a Christian - ANY Christian - can hang their hats on: the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth.

And when we do that, the theological boxes seem a whole lot less important.

God loves you.

Those three words have been uttered so many times by so many people that it's become, for many, a meaningless cliche. And it's come, so often, with so many strings attached that it's become, if not a bald-face lie, then something that evokes feelings that are anything but warm and fuzzy. But when we're faced with just how scandalous God's universal, unfailing love really is, we're forced to deal with emotions much more complex than those that lies and cliches bring out in us.

The truth is, the New Testament teaches us one overarching, dominant concept about God: that not only does He love each and every person that has ever walked the face of this planet, but He loves them enough to send Jesus Christ, His Son, to die so that each of them have the opportunity to spend eternity with Him. In other words, God loves absolutely everyone.

And everyone, logically speaking, includes Michael Plumadore.

If you clicked that link and the read the article, your first thought probably wasn't concerning love, be it God's or anyone else's. According to reports, last week in Fort Wayne, Indiana, Michael Plumadore was babysitting a family friend, a nine year old girl. For reasons that aren't entirely clear, he decided to beat the girl to death, cut her body up with a hacksaw, and decided to keep her head, hands and feet in his home. He threw away the rest of the remains at a local business, and kept his trophies in Ziplock bags in his freezer.

Now, I've seen more horror movies than I can count. I own nearly the entire Saw series, I've been watching Stephen King's stories since I was the tragically dead girl's age, and have become so numb to most of the world's atrocities that most of what we see on the news barely makes me flinch. And yet, when I read this story, I could immediately think of nothing else than how much worse this true event is than what Hollywood writers ever come up with, and how it's infinitely worse than the vast majority of what we see on the evening news.

And, apparently, I'm not alone. Taking a quick perusal of the reader comments reveals a predictable consensus of opinion:

- Put a 25 cent bullet in this guy head and be done with it, no court, no attorneys, no prison, done!!!!

- OK, so... I'm a Liberal from Liberalville but I say kill this guy. He's useless on this planet. Kill him.

- This sick F needs to be extinguished immediately.

- No reason for this mutt to keep living. Kill him.

- torture this piece of crap, cut him up piece by piece while he is still alive and dispose of the crap in the garbage.

- I don't usually comment on these forums but they need to cut this piece of craps head off, stick it on a pole and stand it up in town square.

Without fail, each person who decided to comment on this article felt a sense of outrage, demanded justice, and thought of creative ways to enact it. And yet, if we're to believe the gospel, that's not how God feels about Michael Plumadore. As horrific as his actions have been, God made Him; Jesus died for Him; the Holy Spirit wants to live inside of Him. This man has dignity, value and worth; He is loved by the Creator of this, and every universe.

That is an absolutely mind-blowing fact, and it should give us pause before we condemn and attack those around us whose lifestyles don't align with our sense of morality and ethics, not to mention before we look in the mirror and see ourselves and useless and unworthy as well.

When tragedies in our world happen, there's a God of love who weeps right alongside of us, mourning and grieving for every person who suffers. But that goes for everyone - not just the ones we deem worthy. No matter who you are, God loves you.

Even if you're Michael Plumadore.

There are lots of conceivable reasons that someone might visit Disneyworld. Perhaps a couple in honeymooning or a family is vacationing; maybe someone lives near Orlando, Florida and has a season pass to the happiest place on earth; or, it might just be that like Stephanie and I, two people in love are celebrating their anniversary with Mickey, Minnie and the rest of Walt Disney's creations. But no matter why someone might go to Disneyworld, one thing is for sure: there's only one reason that makes me want to physically assault tween girls in the face with my foot:

Justin Bieber.

We had spent two of the most perfect, relaxing days at the Epcot Center and Animal Kingdom, and we couldn't have been happier. The vacation felt like it had just begun, and yet, it was already the best that we had ever had. The third day of our vacation had the makings of the best day yet, as we were going to Disney's signature park, the Magic Kingdom, and while we were there, we had reservations to eat with the Disney princesses in Cinderella's castle (note: there are few words to describe how awkward in-character Disney princesses can make a 27 year old guy with no kids. But that's a subject for another blog...). All in all, it would be hard to wipe the smile from our faces.

But then came the news that would stop us - and everyone else in the Disney parks - in our tracks: Justin Bieber was at Disneyworld. Apparently, without giving any park goers or even employees any heads-up, Disney had chosen this particular day to film its Christmas Special, with a special guest that would make every girl between the ages of 9 and 15 swoon. And as the cherry on top of the crap sundae that was this news, there was this: the Bieb had told his fans precisely where to find him on this particular Saturday.  

To say that the Magic Kingdom was unseasonably busy would be an understatement; everywhere you turned, you were swarmed by an army of giggling schoolgirls wearing shirts with this face on it, all of them so excited you would think he arose from the fires of their passion as a golden calf to worship. And for the December crowd that had specificallly come to Disneyworld at a non-peak season, this was less than exciting news. I believe that a man in the crowd behind me said it best when, in his thick Northeaster accent, he succinctly said, 'It's just not right. We didn't come to Disney to see Justin Biebah.'

The whole ordeal got me thinking: who is it that people come to church to see? What is it that motivates people to get out of bed on a Sunday morning, get in their cars, and leave their houses on, potentially, the only day a week they don't have to?

The answer is obvious: Jesus. His life, death, and resurrection; His teachings of grace, love, commitment and sacrifice; His ministry of unconditional compassion to the poor, lost and downtrodden people of society. It's Jesus that should be our focus, and Jesus that we should be advertising to the world. And it's Jesus that people should be filling our pews for.

Unfortunately, there are many in today's modern church that come with an ulterior motive, and there are far too many pastors and teachers who are all too happy to oblige them with legalistic rules, political agenda, prosperity gospels and fancy shows that turn worship into American Idol. In other words, there are far too many people who are going to Disneyworld just to see Justin Bieber.

With all this outside pressure and temptation to cash in on what the masses demand, keeping the focus on Jesus, and Jesus alone is one of the most surprisingly difficult things to accomplish for any minister. And Jesus' message of the most difficult things any Christian can attempt to keep as the core focus of their lives. But at the end of the day, there's nothing that will last longer or mean more than Jesus, and there's no one else who's worth placing our trust, hope and faith in than Him. Week in and week out, there's no one else you should go to church to see.

Not even someone as idolized as the Bieb. 

I recently saw Jesus in a place I never expected.

Granted, my lack of expectancy is completely my fault. After all, there's absolutely no reason at all that I should have been surprised to see Jesus in such a place. Sure, there are many people who would claim that Jesus would never be caught dead in a tiny bar in Columbia, but those people are wrong. Having fun among the people is precisely where Jesus found Himself. Heck, His first miracle was replenishing the dwindling supply of booze at a party, and, if you pay attention, nearly all of Jesus' major events took place at Jewish festivals. So the truth is, it's my fault that I didn't think I'd see Jesus in a place like Mojo's.

I was there with a few friends to see a South Carolina band called All Get Out, who just so happen to have created a masterpiece in their new record, 'The Season.'Ordinarily I find that I'm well past the age where going to shows - even of bands I love - is fun, but this time was different. The venue was small, and the band wouldn't even play until after 11 P.M. on a school night, so I assumed that I wouldn't be overly jostled by teenagers (I'm well aware how this sounds; I'm absolutely an old man when it comes to some things). And after the show, I couldn't have been more happy that I had gone - All Get Out was absolutely mesmerizing to see live, putting on one of the best shows I've ever seen. But long after I forget what the concert was like, I'll remember what I saw earlier in the evening.

The local opening band was doing what every local opening band does: muddling through a setlist with around a dozen people paying attention. As they got to their final song though (universally a band's 'best' offering), something happened: the three piece band suddenly lost one of their members. The singer and guitar player had broken a string, and while trying to plug in and tune his backup guitar, he realized that something was wrong. He had burned through two working guitars in less than a minute, and now, stood helplessly on the stage sans instrument. The band wouldn't be able to play their last song without it, and the singer began to explain to the 'crowd' what had happened.

And that's when he was interrupted by a guy he'd never met. It was Mel, the lead guitar player for All Get Out, handing him HIS guitar so they could finish the show. Now, if you don't play guitar, you may not understand just how significant this is, so know this: guitar players NEVER let anyone else touch their guitars. And that goes double for quasi-famous touring bands. For this situation to go down like this - for a touring band to give an instrument to a random guy they'd never met, just for one song, after they'd shown an affinity for breaking guitars - can only be explained by one word: love.

I got an opportunity to talk to Mel after the show, and he refused to think that he had done anything special. Sure, he'd allowed a small struggling band to finish their set by making a sacrifice that literally 99% of musicians wouldn't make. But to him, it wasn't even a choice - as he said, he'd been in that spot before and it felt terrible. He wouldn't want anyone to go through that.

When we think about serving God, we rarely think of it in the terms that Jesus did:loving one another, whether we're 'friends' or not. And when we think about loving one another, we rearely think of it in the terms that Jesus did: in small actions that mean big things. It can be giving a man a glass of water or visiting someone when they're sick or offering your guitar to a tiny band in need; the smallest actions can be the biggest messages of love.

I saw Jesus that night at Mojo's. I saw him in the hands of Mel, the guitar player for a band who poetically peppers their lyrics with profanity. I saw him in the face of the local band's guitar player, who was clearly the 'least' of the musicians that night who simply needed a little bit of help. And it caused me to pause and think: do people see Jesus in me? Do they see Jesus in you?

I hope so. And I hope when they do that it's something they can come to expect.