As I drug my weary carcass out of bed at 6:45 AM local time this morning to get my 6-year-old ready for school, having slept maybe four hours for the fourth night in a row, the thought occurred to me (as it usually does), “Have you lost your Vulcan mind?” As I rub the sleep from my eyes and dart my right eye back and forth a couple of times to get that annoying floater out of the way (…it really stinks getting old, but it beats the alternative…), I start the mental inventory: Four kids 9 and under. Full-time job. Part-time minister…well, really I do that full-time, too, but let’s not feel too sorry for ourselves. This weekend is my oldest daughter’s statewide Junior Bible Quiz Tournament. She’ll do very well. She’s worked hard, having memorized well over 100 Bible verses in addition to other Bible facts. It’s Easter season, one of the busiest times of the year for us at the church.
As if all of that weren’t enough, why in the world would I even attempt to keep feeding this monster of a contest? Shouldn’t I have just sent out an email this year saying, “Sorry, folks, but I have to face reality. I don’t have time for this any more. Other priorities make it impossible.” I mean, it’s not like you all wouldn’t have understood. Wouldn’t it have been better to just say “no” this year?
Maybe, but that’s just not how I’m put together.
Wednesday night at church my wife, Heather, and I were attending our elective class on parenting, and Heather had volunteered to provide something fun as an ice-breaker. We played a game where two teams of five people poured a bag M&M’s on the table, and each team member was responsible for eating allthe M&M’s of one color. The first team to finish their bag wins. I was the anchor man for our team, and of course, the color to which I was assigned had the greatest quantity in our bag. As I struggled to choke down what must have been a gross ton of chocolate, which, incidentally, will absolutely melt in your hands if you hold onto it with sweaty palms long enough, it became apparent that I was not going to beat my counterpart, who was nearly finished with his color. When one of my teammates said something to the effect, “He might as well just stop and not make himself sick,” my wife replied, “He won’t quit. He’s a Little.”
Some folks who know me think that I always have to win. While that may have been true when I was younger, I’d like to think it’s not the case anymore. I do not have to win. I just have to be a winner. That means giving your best effort. That means not quitting even when it becomes difficult, or it appears that it isn’t worth it to continue. That means being passionate about things simply because you care enough to be passionate about them, rather than drowning in the same sea of apathy that seems to be consuming the masses these days. My mother said to me recently, “We have enough dead-heads in the world.” How true. I spent more than 7 years of my life working in youth ministry, and while I was certainly moved and disturbed by the ubiquitous problems plaguing our teens: drugs, alcohol, permissiveness, moral decay, and the like, I think I was most disturbed by something I saw becoming so prevalent among today’s younger generation, and that is a general lack of zeal…about anything. This “Whatever, dude!” attitude is something I’m determined to fight, even if only in my own children. If you are going to do something, then care enough not only about the task, but about your own character to do it well, do it right, and do it “with all your heart”, as the Bible says.
That sounds great and very philosophical, but I can hear the snickering and snorting already. After all, a contest revolving around a sport is hardly the kind of thing that is going to change to the world. Absolutely true. But doing it well, doing it right, and doing it with zeal might just change me, and who knows but it might be the little bit of inspiration that would produce a change for the better in you. Every year I receive copious expressions of gratitude from people who play this crazy game. Why? Because the contest is so great? Because it is so important? Hardly. There’s not even a prize for the winner, for crying out loud. I think people are saying “thank you” not so much for the contest itself, but for caring enough about it to invest the love and effort to make it what it is.Â
I hope this little lesson somehow reaches the ears of our younger contestants. People recognize labors of love, and when you work expecting nothing in return, the natural response will be gratitude, and sincere gratitude is one of the greatest rewards of life. You cannot put a price on it. That, my friends, is why I do the contest.
And of course, I always want to W-I-N!!!!!
I promise this is my one and only sermon. Now back to our regularly scheduled March Madness programming.
The Rev.