intramuralist ™

(Tapping first into my deep appreciation for 80’s music…)

“Shout, shout, let it all out
These are the things I can do without
Come on, I’m talking to you, come on

Shout, shout, let it all out
These are the things I can do without
Come on, I’m talking to you, come on…”

What is it with the plethora of people on Facebook, Twitter, media and social media who feel a need to shout at the rest of us? What is it about people who feel tolerance only goes one way?

Whether it’s about how we should feel about Bruce Jenner, Caitlyn Jenner, same-sex marriage, religious freedom, gun control, the Confederate flag, white privilege, black oppression, immigration, activism…ugh… can I simply state the obvious?

 Some of you are shouting at us.

Let me state the next most obvious — a huge point that I believe the shouters totally miss:

None of the rest of us will change our minds because of your shouting. In fact, it is more likely that we will become more entrenched in our positions precisely because of your shouting.

You can shout, shout, and let it all out, but the rudeness of your shouting — the fact that you only are good at loving some people well and have little respect for those who may or may not believe differently — means the rest of us will be minimally encouraged to act and think like you.

Let me say that again…

When you shout… when you’re rude… when you’re mean… when you say you don’t care that you’re being rude or mean — whichever side you’re supposedly on — when you engage in such disrespectful articulation, very few outside your small circle of influence will want to adopt your opinion. You are doing more damage than good.

Not only are you embracing the above Tears for Fears’ mantra from 1985, you also seem to embrace the The Isley Brothers in 1959…

“You know you make me wanna (Shout!)
Kick my heels up and (Shout!)
Throw my hands up and (Shout!)
Throw my head back and (Shout!)
Come on now (Shout!)…

(Shout) yeah, yeah, yeah…
(Shout) yeah, yeah, yeah…
(Shout) yeah, yeah, yeah…”

While both songs share the same simple title, I’m thinking our shouting friends need to re-read the lyrics from the entire Isley Brothers melody. Two-thirds of the way through the song, they share a message to our shouters. In fact, they say it 17 times before giving way to continued shouts:

“A little bit softer now.”

Yes… a little bit softer now. Please.

Do we each want us to discuss the legitimacy of our perspectives or points? Do we want to make progress? Do we want to move toward solution or peace? Or are we incapable of respectful debate? Are we simply more comfortable being loud, justifying disrespect, and hearing our own selves think?

May I humbly suggest we begin by stopping the shouting.

Respectfully… always…
AR

Ok, ok… I must admit… these past few weeks I have been a total bandwagon jumper — my entire family, in fact.

[No, not for Bernie or the Donald… with all due respect, doubtful either of those will be happening anytime soon.]

We just couldn’t get enough of the 2015 American women’s World Cup team!!

Setting our days and schedules around each match, we found ourselves again huddled Sunday night, when the women won the cup, dominating reigning champion Japan, 5-2.

There were so many reasons to love this year’s team — starting, of course, with the women’s oh-so-cool, glow-in-the-dark, neon yellow socks…

There was first the obvious manifestation of perseverance and hard work — a lesson all students and athletes and young entrepreneurs can learn from. Note that World Cup qualifying began in April of 2013. Then — out of 134 teams — only 24 made the field. That means the athletes had to work hard, fight through adversity, and keep their eyes fixed on the prize… for over two years. I am struck by how that completely contrasts with current culture, which way too often embraces entitlement and instant gratification — equivalent to the total absence of perseverance and hard work.

The women also modeled how success is found in teamwork. Said arguably best by the Hope Solo, awarded the cup’s best goalkeeper, who has notably faced significant off field controversy: “As for my Golden Glove award, I’d like to dedicate it to my teammates and all the coaches that have stood by me all this time, in good times and bad, when I needed their support. It may be an individual award, but there are a lot of people who enabled me to be here holding this trophy today, which is the greatest moment of my career, and I thank them. I dedicate it to my coaches and my teammates, especially my defenders.”

[America’s team won this cup. How often in American do we forget we are a team?]

I also jumped on this enthusiastic bandwagon because I was attracted to what seemed to be just the right amount of pride laced within the accompanying patriotism… Too many proclaim themselves as “patriotic” but still shout insults at others. Too many scream at others and their flags. Too many from the left and the right adopt a sense of patriotism that excludes any opposing viewpoints on our team. Too many are too arrogant. My sense is that those “too many” don’t know what patriotism really is.

[How awesome, no doubt, it was to witness the women wave and wear the flag, running around the field, as the victory was sealed.

]

A few more random notes…

I loved the pomp and circumstance. I loved the national anthems. I loved the kids in the crowd and the creative, painted faces. I loved the respect and civility between the countries — between the players. I will not quickly forget soccer great, Homare Sawa — the 36 year old beloved icon in Japan, who found a way to smile and sincerely congratulate the American women even in her disappointing defeat.

And one more thing…

America loves a good hero. I think that’s why we too quickly fall prey to worshipping a candidate or celebrity; we’re always looking for that deserving hero — the one that’s “gotta be strong… gotta be fast… gotta be fresh from the fight.” And Sunday we found one.

 Amid this totally team game, captain Carli Lloyd emerged as the hungry, humble star. Lloyd scored 3 goals within 16 minutes. She scored one goal from approximately 60 yards away. She was the best player in the biggest moment on the biggest stage. And when her teammate, soccer legend Abby Wambach entered the game as a substitute in the 78th minute — playing in her last World Cup — Lloyd took off her captain’s armband, wrapping it instead around Wambach. The crowd swooned.

[Again, we all love a good hero.]

It was a fun month and a special, American team — one the bandwagon jumpers will always remember… such great reasons to love them…

[… did I mention the neon socks?]

Respectfully…
AR

There are some moments in life that change us. Let me rephrase. There are some moments in life that have the potential to change us — that is, if we intentionally pause… hesitating long enough to grasp the sobriety of the situation… to recognize all that’s going on… to learn from the moment and say “I want to change this now.”

Friday was one of those moments for me. While state senator and pastor Clementa Pinckney was eulogized in Charleston, South Carolina, police officer Sonny Kim was honored in Cincinnati, Ohio.

Each man was widely respected in his community. Each man led others by the depth and consistency of his character. Each man believed, as was said so eloquently at the funeral in Cincinnati, that “service is the rent you pay to live on planet Earth.” Each man came face-to-face with evil. Each man did not know the day he would die. Each man sacrificed his life. Each man loved Jesus. “Amazing Grace” was thus sang at the funeral of each man.

Attending the service in Cincinnati was an honor and a privilege. Several observations moved me…

• Upon arrival, a stranger greeting an unknown policeman, hugging him, thanking him for his service.
• The massive outpouring of policemen; some 6000-7000 attended the funeral; some 4000-5000 were officers.
• The three teenage, surviving sons… no words.
• The charge to each of the boys… courage to the youngest, embracing his father’s example to the middle, and duty to the oldest.
• The brother, remarking how he saw his sibling change the moment he held that beautiful, oldest son.
• The blessed widow, reaching out to touch the casket, as it rolled away a final time.
• The grieving mother, shaken.
• The diversity of the audience… black, white, Asian, Latino…
• The oldest son’s show choir singing… “Until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hand.”
• The teens in the audience, supporting their friend, learning about the tougher moments of life.
• The minister’s message, acknowledging how the officer’s life reflected Jesus, pondering how we can reflect God more, too.
• The 750 police cars included in the processional to the burial.
• The thousands who lined the streets, saluting one more time.
• The pending rainstorm, that seemingly kept no one away.
• The riderless horse.
• And the final dispatch… “Communications to Badge P396″… and then the acknowledgement of no response.

It was an emotional, powerful day. My words do not say enough.

When I returned home five hours later, I was drained. Instead of immediately grappling with the truth of the day, I numbly turned on my computer seeing what else was in the news. I immediately read the reports of Rev. Pinckney’s service; it, too, seemed bittersweetly beautiful.

And then I encountered all the tweets and status updates surrounding the Supreme Court. Many were fine, but too many others had “#lovewins” or “#sinwins” followed by a “take that” at the end of their rant. Hence, I turned my laptop off.

Instead of the crud that too often pollutes our world, I wanted to stop, sobered by the reality of the day. I want to honor both Pinckney and Kim by wrestling with aspects of my life that I have opportunity to change, if I’m willing to pause and examine where I reflect God well — and where I do not. Changed lives keeps sacrifice from being in vain.

Some posts are harder to write than others. This was one of them.

Respectfully…

AR

With all due respect, I am a fair-weather, tv golf fan. I’m sorry. I have no desire to disappoint anyone — especially not the male members of my extended family. I just am not really a fan. I mean, I fake it well. I, also, was once a fairly decent player, but there’s a difference between playing and watching. Playing golf is fun; watching four to five hours on tv typically puts me to sleep.

I think the problem for me in recent years is that I have struggled with someone to root for. I wanted someone who was seemingly worthy of my cheer both on and off the green. The game’s “greats” gave way to Tiger Woods against everyone else, and then something about Tiger never quite settled well with me. I speak not of the personal revelations that put a dent in his professional prowess (as each of us have made our share of mistakes). But when Tiger’s rampant infidelity was revealed, the cover up was also exposed. Previously, the media rarely reported on any negative impressions pertaining to Tiger — be that about his well known fairway temper or off-field unfaithfulness. As written by Charles P. Pierce in “Esquire Magazine”:

“Back in 1997, one of the worst-kept secrets on the PGA Tour was that Tiger was something of a hound. Everybody knew. Everybody had a story. Occasionally somebody saw it, but nobody wanted to talk about it, except in bar-room whispers late at night. Tiger’s People at the International Management Group visibly got the vapors if you even implied anything about it. However, from that moment on, the marketing cocoon around him became almost impenetrable. The Tiger Woods that was constructed for corporate consumption was spotless and smooth, an edgeless brand easily peddled to sheikhs and shakers. The perfect marriage with the perfect kids slipped so easily into the narrative it seemed he’d been born married. Anything dissonant was dealt with quickly and mercilessly…

When Woods was driven to the sidelines by the relentless coverage of his tawdry affairs, the multiple mistresses seemed utterly at odds with his squeaky-clean image. But that image was a carefully crafted construct, since journalists — and everyone else — had little access to the player he truly was. He is a man with the extraordinary ability to hit a white ball into a little hole, but beyond that, we were all had.”

I suppose that’s it. In sports and politics, I don’t like being “had.” I want to cheer and vote for a person who is genuine. And in sports and politics, too many people intentionally feed the facade; they have something to gain.

Golf, however, has a new star. 21 year old Jordan Spieth has won the first two major tournaments of the year. When he won the Masters, in his “thank you’s,” he included the “food and beverage staff.” When he won last weekend’s U.S. Open, his first public comments were that he felt bad for the runner-up, who three-putted hole 18. He has a charity set up for special needs individuals, and on his own website, he reaches out to his 14 year old sister with special needs, saying, “Being Ellie’s brother humbles me every day of my life.”

Veteran Ernie Els calls Spieth one of the kindest players on the tour. The young man seems respected by the entirety of the golfing community even though he is one of the new kids on the block. In fact, when Spieth’s father was asked after the Masters about his son’s success, he said, “He has a God-given gift to be able to play the game like that, but we’re more proud of him for the kind of person he is — the way he handles himself and treats everybody.”

Sounds to me that Jordan Spieth is genuine. Sounds to me that he is worthy of my cheer both on and off the green. Authenticity is worth cheering — and voting — for.

Sunday evening was the final round of this year’s U.S. Open. Since the course played was in Washington state, it was an unusually late night. With Spieth in contention, however, I watched a full four hours. I didn’t even take a nap.

Respectfully…

AR

Yesterday we witnessed something impressive… something courageous… something both humble and bold… something, too, we might miss if we’re too busy adjusting our partisan hats.

South Carolina Gov. Nikki Haley held a press conference calling on the Confederate flag to be removed from the state capitol. She said: “Today, we are in here in a moment of unity in our state, without ill will, to say it is time to move the flag from capitol grounds.”  Cheers erupted immediately.

For many, the flag is a proud symbol of heritage and respect. For many others, it is a painful reminder of oppression.

That pain was especially evident as we watched the evil unfold in Charleston last week. As stated by Gov. Haley: “We are not going to allow this symbol to divide us any longer. The fact that it causes pain to so many is enough to move it from the Capitol grounds.”

Haley led her state in the following ways yesterday:

• She solicited the insight and input of both parties.
• She listened to other people; she listened to her constituents, other civil, social, and religious leaders, and to the elect.
• She allowed others to sway her opinion and was willing to change her mind.
• She seemingly empathized deeply with both the black and the white.
• She minced no words in calling evil, “evil.”
• She did not shy from controversy.
• She made and articulated an unambiguous decision.
• She showed respect for those who may disagree.
• She refrained from chastising anyone.
• She put no focus on herself.

She also added: “In just the last few months, the nation watched our state go through another time of crisis when we dealt with the betrayal of one of our own in the tragic shooting of Walter Scott. South Carolina did not respond with rioting and violence like other places have. We responded by talking to each other, by putting ourselves in other people’s shoes, and by finding common ground in the name of moving our state forward.” [emphasis mine]

In other words, amidst a diverse people group, South Carolina has found a wiser, more productive, solution-oriented path of progress.

Then as Haley addressed this volatile, controversial issue, she added arguably her boldest truth yet in her call to remove the flag:

“We do not need to declare a winner and a loser here.”

Read that again. There is no need for a “winner” or “loser.” That is courageous, selfless leadership. It is bold. How many of our elect or elect-wanna-be’s choose such a unifying approach? … to tackle a controversial issue without declaring a winner or loser? … to refrain from labeling those who feel differently as ignorant, stupid, or severely misguided?

As I watched (and cheered on) Haley on Monday, I wondered how our country could benefit from more of this bold, courageous leadership… leaders who invite all parties to the table… leaders who refuse to make solely partisan decisions… and leaders who will never arrogantly chastise all who disagree. There stood Haley, along with 20 some others in obvious, full support — black, white, Republican, Democrat, partisan committee chairmen, and a former Governor. Each had something to add; each deserved listening to.

Friends, the Intramuralist has no plans to ever endorse a candidate — and it’s not that I’m some closet, huge Haley fan. But as so many of us get so tired of the elect and elect-wanna-be’s (from both parties) being so impure in their leadership and accompanying rhetoric, I found Haley’s response to the flag refreshing. And then when I saw persons from all sides of the proverbial partisan aisle also amen her actions, I thought, we need more leaders who exemplify what Haley courageously did today.

Respectfully…

AR

Today is one of those days when my planned post was totally scrapped. I had written about the events in Charleston. I had written about the horrific hate crime and how heartbreaking it is to witness the intentional end to innocent life…

I acknowledged how as a nation we react. Our collective reaction was actually bittersweetly beautiful after 9/11… for even though still in shock, together we were determined to triumph amidst the ashes; hope and perseverance trumped all evil that took down the towers. I then talked about evil in my post…

My troubling observation was that while I understand the passion that wishes to ensure events like Charleston never happen again, I keep thinking we’re missing the bigger point; something’s off in us. I just don’t sense the underlying problem in regard to what happened in Charleston is gun control; it’s not about guns. It’s also not about racism. It’s about evil. It’s about evil manifest as racism and hatred.

I realize such is not a popular point. It’s ok. I get it. All of us want this violence to stop, and my sense is that such is the intention of the social media and microphone screamers (we all know who they are). It’s just that if we fail to wrestle with the bigger, underlying problem, we will stop and solve very little. That’s what my previously planned post was about.

And then last night, along with several hundred others, I went to a community vigil honoring Cincinnati police officer Sonny Kim.

On Friday morning, Kim responded to a 911 call of a man acting erratically in the streets. We would later learn that the call came from the erratically-acting man. He set the situation up, and before the call, he texted friends that he wanted to die at the hands of police. Before he then received his fatal wish, he first shot and killed Kim, who was first on the scene. Sonny Kim was a 27 year, decorated, respected veteran of the Cincinnati police force. He was the so-called “best” of the “best.”

In Charleston, a white man intentionally killed nine black men and women. In Cincinnati, a black man intentionally killed a man born in South Korea. The two 21 year olds were both motivated by evil.

At the vigil for Kim, the father of a good friend of my two oldest boys, significant emotion was rampant. But none of the reactions were divisive. There was no shouting; there was no screaming; there was nothing self-serving; and there was no pointing of fingers even at the one who committed the obvious, heinous wrong. In fact, one police officer who spoke boldly amidst his tears said, “It doesn’t always make sense. You can’t figure everything out.”



And I felt him saying, too (via my liberal paraphrase), “Don’t spend your time and energy trying to figure this senseless evil out. Instead, come together. Come together as one,” he said. “Humble yourselves, honoring Officer Kim in how you live and love one another now. Submit to God. It’s the only way life makes sense. When you submit to God, you will find the unity that moves us forward in a healthy and wise way.”

It was a bittersweet, beautiful night.

Today in Charleston, South Carolina, members of the historic Emanuel AME Church will reconvene in worship. They will acknowledge senseless evil exists on this planet, some things hurt more than ever imagined, and that God is still in control and worthy of our relationship and submission. For those who heard the victims’ families speak last week, we witnessed that beautiful, unified, tear-laced submission.

It’s tough. It’s also beautiful when we have the wisdom and humility to actually come together.

Respectfully… with a heavy heart…

AR

For weeks we’ve watched as the class of 2015 turned their tassels and attention from years gone by to all that’s ahead. Make no mistake about it; there’s lots ahead.

What a beautiful thing. Imagine… a clean slate… one to be freshly written upon… by the innocence of youth, surpassing the age of adolescence, as these fine young men and women now enter adulthood.

Let me first give a shout out to the parents whose road I’ve shared as we watch kid number one fly the coop… I have so much respect and appreciation for you. It has also been my absolute privilege to share this time together, cheering for one another’s children, celebrating the uniqueness of each individual child’s gift. What a joy and a privilege to celebrate your child!

I must admit, however, that I probably would not have been as sincere in cheering on your child if it wasn’t for the wisdom of Dr. Tim Kimmel. Over a dozen some years ago, I was so impressed by his Raising Kids for True Greatness, as it changed the way I thought… changed what I believed… and yes, it changed the way I cheered. Warning: the book is also, completely, anti-current culture — a culture that seemingly encourages finding worth in comparing ourselves to one another.

Kimmel challenges the reader to quit seeing life as limited; quit seeing opportunity as limited. We tend to see opportunity as created by man, and thus, there’s only so much opportunity to go around. That means there’s only one lead in the play, one starting QB, and one solo in the choir for the director to dish out. And when we fall prey to that line of thinking, we then also believe that if your kid got that lead or that start or that solo, then he or she took that away from me. If someone else has that spot or solo, there’s one less opportunity for me.

But when we learn to instead trust in the great big God of the universe — meaning we recognize that he is the creator not only of us but also of the actual opportunity — we learn that he allows people to be put in places that grow them best. He molds us. He teaches us. He grows us. And transparently speaking, sometimes I have grown best and most by not being the so-called lead in the play.

Once we trust God with the way our opportunities unfold, it takes all the pressure off to be congratulatory when inside, such is furthest from our thoughts; we don’t have to fake it. We can be genuinely happy for the perceived success of someone else’s child because we no longer see another’s success as negatively impacting us. We no longer see life as a comparison or competition. (Such is another beautiful thing… 🙂 )

One of my senior son’s “lasts” this past year was high school baseball. We have loved being a part of the baseball community. We have also experienced several special moments — complete games, a handful of one-hitters, striking out the side in a no outs/loaded bases situation. It’s been a wonderful time.

But one of my favorite baseball moments came in the final weeks of this year’s playoff season… his first home run… ever. And he smashed that pitch in a key moment of a game versus a rather intense rival.

The best part? Seeing his face as he rounded third and headed for home. He was grinning from ear to ear.

Did I mention that the proud home run hitter wasn’t my son?

It was an absolute beautiful thing.

Respectfully… with great joy…

AR