Category: Current Event

 

My desire is to always advocate for integrity — to embrace and promote what is good and true and right — in society, sports, politics, you-name-it. While willing to wrestle with all issues and events and never shy from a scenario, sometimes we must be more intentional in focusing on what is good.

And so when I came to my keyboard this day, originally contemplating how to entwine the current stories surrounding quarterback Tom Brady and candidate Hillary Clinton, there was a bit of an internal struggle. (Put all Patriot and partisan hats aside, friends; I’m seeking objectivity.) I am fascinated that both Tom and Hillary are (1) revered by many, (2) have attained positions of unparalleled influence, (3) are highly intelligent, (4) have been caught in lies, and (5) are now not forthcoming with the truth. Why are they quiet? Is the truth worse than the lie? And does the intent of their deception in any way disqualify them from the future position they each desire to hold — be that behind the walls of Canton’s famed hall or on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue?

While it’s no secret that I am not a New England fan, hater, nor a desirer of another “Bush” or “Clinton” in the White House again soon (I desire fresher ideas, friends), remember that the Intramuralist always advocates for integrity. We are seeing some cracks which should prompt the at least posing of questions regarding character — as opposed to marginalizing the lies because of our fandom. I know that’s a tough position — especially when you admire the person so much (… said by this lifelong Pete Rose fan).

Yet as stated at the beginning of today’s post, sometimes we must be intentional in focusing on what is good, and after my morning yesterday, the questions regarding quarterbacks and candidates easily went away.

Yesterday was the Special Olympics in our area. In a large high school stadium, athletes from across the city came to compete in various track and field events. It was clear from the onset, that this was special. So much about the event was different than the typical games we all play — in society, sports, politics, you-name-it. And so much about this was good…

• Age and race did not matter.
• Speed and style did not matter.
• All athletes were celebrated.
• All athletes were congratulated.
• All placements were celebrated.
• And it was also ok to identify the specific placement of each athlete.

Nothing zapped the joy of these athletes. It was a day in which they felt special — knowing and feeling their life was nothing lesser. This was good.

Two moments struck me as especially profound, no less. First was when the national anthem began to play and the athletes and crowd stood together, with the majority singing along… when’s the last time you were some place where the crowd sang loudly and proudly along?

And second was the race of the young boy — maybe 11 or 12 — as he approached the finish line. Still some 10-15 feet away from the end, the boy began wildly waving his arms and running a bit more haphazardly. At first, I thought he was in pain, crying, and somehow upset. And then I saw his eyes — and saw how happy he was — all because he was about to finish in 4th place… 4th place.

Did I mention we must sometimes be more intentional in focusing on what is good?

Respectfully…

AR

Several years ago I sat in the stands after traveling the four plus hours to a baseball tournament for one of my sons. During our fourth or fifth game of the extended weekend, I remember one parent wanting to vent with me; she was irate her son had to sit out that game. I got it. I understood. I also desired to listen well, wanting to encourage her, and do nothing to diminish her perceived plight. Her situation was hard for her.

Note: up to that point — game four or five — my son had only played one inning… one inning of one game.

After traveling that far for that many days, I would have appreciated my son playing more. Granted, he’s a pitcher, and sometimes pitchers — especially in relief — play more sporadically, dependent on how a specific game evolves. His one inning was a good one — and that made me thankful. I haven’t always, however — and am still not always — good at being thankful for “one innings,” so-to-speak.

I will admit, no less, that I am consistently struck by the number of times so many of us (myself included) miss out on the beauty of those one innings because we’re so focused on some other aspect of our circumstances that’s frustrating or hurtful; we become so emboldened by the perceived plight within our circumstances — an irritation or inconvenience, a heartache or hurt, a passion or personal desire — that we become blinded to any plight of another; we’re actually unable to see what’s happening to another, because our own emotion and/or passion often blinds us. It’s thus also a seemingly subconscious way of making life, unfortunately, “all about me.” Sometimes, I believe, because we are so anxious or irate, we assume another’s plight couldn’t be harder.

As referenced in Tuesday’s post, I remember well the month my infant son was in the cardiac ICU ward. Those days were hard — sweet in some ways, but awful, actually, in others. My heart hurt, and while my faith never wavered, the reality was still scary and sobering. And yet, when I’d walk the halls, awash in my own concern, I remember moments when I’d notice the manifest fears in the faces of those who paced the same hallways… downcast… swollen eyes… persons who obviously hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks, months, maybe years. Then I’d see the children… some facing overwhelming, mind-boggling, physical and emotional challenges. It’s totally gut-wrenching seeing a child in pain.

I learned then that it’s keenly vital to look at the faces of another. If we don’t, we will never fully consider their plight… we will never weigh the challenges of their reality… and we will then far too easily make life “all about me.”

Take a brief glance at the most current, current events — from the Baltimore unrest to the terror attack in Texas to the “Clinton cash” to “Deflategate,” etc. In each there are many who are only able to see their own perspective or plight. As I shared on the baseball diamond, I get it. I understand. My point is not to diminish that person’s plight; my point is that sometimes we are so focused on our own valid passions and challenges, that we can no longer see any belonging to another.

After an hour at the weekend baseball tournament, the other parent seemed to calm down significantly. She seemed a little less stressed that her son was not playing. I felt, too, I was able to listen well and steer her to find some positives in the situation. We focused on how well her son had played in the days prior — without marginalizing her current concern.

I also chose not to remind her of my son’s lack of playing time. It wasn’t necessary. I didn’t want to miss the beauty of one inning.

Respectfully…

AR

My youngest son was born missing a wall in his heart. Before the wall could be fixed, he became critically ill, as at five months old, he contacted a severe respiratory virus that threatened his life. We found ourselves spending most of March of 2002 in the cardiac ICU ward at Children’s Hospital in Cincinnati. It was a sobering, challenging, gut-wrenching time.

While my family and I will forever be thankful for those who walked beside us then — the guests, gifts, helping hands and prayers across the globe — there were also many moments spent alone — often quietly only with our son, who was unable to respond.

Food was not permitted in the ICU wing, so one of those lonely Sunday evenings I remember strolling into the visitors’ lounge, attempting to pick at some semblance of dinner, even though my heart was totally elsewhere. I wasn’t actually alone in the lounge that night; already visiting were five very large, probably 250 lb. plus African-American men.

The five were talking amidst one another, in a fairly lively manner, with ESPN tuned into on the corner television. I sat alone at the table, picking at my food. They made no effort to speak to me — nor me to them.

With the top of the hour came the sports network’s lead story: an NBA coach had made a racially inflammatory comment; his comment was directed toward the hiring of African-American coaches.

The waiting room went silent.

Together we watched the in depth reports — sitting still even as ESPN moved to the next story. All lively conversation from my fellow lounge visitors had quickly come to a halt. Here I sat… me the only Caucasian in the room… seemingly half each man’s size… amidst a group which was understandably, obviously disturbed by what they had just heard.

I realized then that often we are only good at communicating with those who look like us. We often only attempt to communicate when we’re fairly certain the other person is likeminded — and that likeminded calculation is typically driven by an instant assessment of outward appearance; our communication is often based on outward appearance. And even though our outward appearances were strikingly different that day, I knew I needed to speak to those men.

“You know why that guy says things like that?” And with those brief words acutely cutting the silence, I could tell I stunned each of the five, as I had their immediate attention; they stared straight at me — silent — undoubtedly unsure what was about to next come out of my mouth.

I looked them square in the eye. I paused. And then I boldly said, “Because his team ain’t winning. When teams aren’t winning, people say stupid things.”

“Amen!” went the room, and instantaneously the liveliness returned, as did the chorus of smiles and extended amens, as we now all chatted together. We talked about professional basketball. We talked about Shaq and Kobe and Michael’s return from retirement. If my memory serves me correctly, we even went on to discuss the upcoming NFL draft. But then, a most beautiful thing happened…

After 10 or so minutes of discussing current sporting events, we moved on to the more significant. We began to share why each of us was sitting in that waiting room. The reality was that we were in the ICU ward because someone we loved — a child, no less — was critically ill.

I realized that when I had first walked into that room, there was no attempt by any of us to discern the heart of the other; we were distracted by our own passions. No one was mean or disrespectful; we just made no attempt to sincerely communicate. Most likely we had made a few judgments about each other based on outward appearance. When then faced with the racial disrespect, those subtle judgments began swirling in our minds — even in our silence.

If we are going to communicate in a healthy way, friends, we must refrain from such external judgment — judgment which too often hails from every ethnic, income, intellect, political, and demographic group. Judgment will always obstruct the most important communication… whether that happens in Baltimore, Maryland or the hospital waiting room.

I was able to eat a little bit more of my dinner that night. I left shortly thereafter with high fives, hugs, and a shared commitment to pray for one another’s loved ones. I was thankful to talk about what was most important.

Respectfully…

AR

Last week we again witnessed society’s growing sensitivity to name calling and identification. We watched the unrest in Baltimore. In reaction to the deep disturbance, both Pres. Obama and Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake utilized the word “thug” to describe the protestors who were violent. After a negative reaction by some to the use of that word, the Mayor apologized, tweeting, “I wanted to clarify my comments on ‘thugs.’ When you speak out of frustration and anger, one can say things in a way that you don’t mean.”

The President, however, doubled-down on his words, with White House Press Sec. Josh Earnest reiterating after the outrage, “Whether it’s arson or the looting of a liquor store, those were thuggish acts.”

The definition of “thug” is as follows: “a cruel or vicious ruffian, robber, or murderer.” A “ruffian” (personally, I kind of like that word) equates to “a tough, lawless person; roughneck; bully.”

Not all protestors were violent; in fact, from the Intramuralist’s limited perspective, I believe the clear minority of protestors to be violent. Those who were violent, however, were cruel, vicious, and lawless. By definition they acted like “thugs.”

I realize that such identification carries with it a negative connotation. There’s a negative association with the word that makes many of us uncomfortable; we don’t like it; it speaks to something less than the ideal — something possibly negative. Obviously, if the violent protestors can be defined as vicious and lawless, that then diminishes the validity of their passion and point. No one wants their point or passion diminished.

The violent protestors and their defenders, no less, are merely practicing what much of society seems to have already, subtly accepted. We continue to avoid certain names or identifications — intentionally avoiding any implications or distinctions within the definition. We even go so far as to substitute other words, acting as if the identifications are equally accurate — and thus, equally good and true.

A further example is found in today’s seemingly, increasingly sensitive approach to identification found within organized religion. Many of us are uncomfortable with specific name calling, identification, or descriptions. Perhaps it’s why the White House has avoided the word “Islamic” or “Muslim” when describing the radical, violent terrorists. The majority of Muslims are not terrorists, but the current groups plaguing the world are Islamic; they don’t want any negative association tied to the religion.

We seem to have similar trouble discussing Christianity. We used to be more comfortable identifying a person who has placed their hope and faith in Jesus Christ as a “Christian.” Now, though, we often utilize the word “spiritual” instead for entire people groups — groups which sometimes have nothing to do with Jesus. We seem uncomfortable identifying any faith that might be perceived as lesser — as anything that may diminish the validity of the potential wisdom or truth.

I thus appreciated the words this week of The Daily Beast’s Barrett Holmes Pitner, who wrote that use of the word “thug” is “a way to diminish and thus disregard black life instead of respectfully exploring the experiences of black Americans.” I agree with the diminishing. The use of the word “thug” diminishes much; it diminishes the point the protestors are attempting to make. The reality is also true that if any person acts in such a vicious and lawless manner, their point will be diminished.

The problem with our words — and the associated identification, friends — isn’t the use of the words; it’s the intentional avoidance… and the avoidance due to what may or may not actually be true.

Respectfully… always…

AR

I want to talk about what’s happening in Baltimore. I actually want to talk about what’s happening across the country… across the globe — both on a grand scale and in the individual heart. But I’m not certain we can have that discussion yet. This may be too tough, too tricky. Too many are too willing to jump on the latest rant.

When we quickly pounce upon the latest rant, we no longer listen to nor examine the validity of another concern. Make no mistake about it; many rants have validity. But that’s the key: many rants have validity. For example, consider “black lives matter”; they do. Consider, also, the violent protestors’ foolishness; it is. No excuse should be made for why one truth isn’t true. And neither truth trumps the other — regardless of how many attempt to aver any “chicken vs. egg” type of argument.

What this tells me — as we witness so many deeply troubled — is that we haven’t identified a true bottom line of what’s happening. It’s as if we keep struggling with symptoms manifest in society, but we never really wrestle with what’s driving the disturbance.

So in my desire not to incite any rant but to instead move toward solution — which should be consistent with wise leadership — allow me to first make 5 observations:

1. There is a distrust of police among a significant number in the African-American community.
2. Many are quick to judge the police.
3. Many are quick to judge the protestors.
4. Many claim solely one people group is to blame. And…
5. Many are utilizing the phrase “as long as” to justify their conclusions and response.

Allow me to expand on observation #5, attempting to tie this all in together…

I keep hearing persons utilize the phrase “as long as” to justify their actions. That happens in all conflict. That’s happening in Baltimore. It happens in politics; it sometimes happens in marriage — even on Facebook. The “as long as” mantra conveniently absolves self of any responsibility and casts all onus on someone else. For example…

“As long as” poverty exists… “As long as” income is unequal… “As long as” black people are disrespected… “As long as” police are distrusted… “As long as” property is destroyed… “As long as” white privilege exists… “As long as” oppression is ignored… “As long as”…

As long as we focus the attention on someone else, we never have to look within ourselves. That’s a tough truth. It may be too tough for some to discuss.

So let me add one more idea…

I said earlier that I don’t believe we’re wrestling with the true bottom line. I think that’s key. The bottom line in this issue is not, in my opinion, about tensions between the black and white communities. In my opinion, it’s bigger; it’s about a lack of respect for all life. For all life. The only place I learn to respect all life equally is by submission to One who is always wiser than me. Only in my faith am I taught to humble myself, recognize that I don’t have life all figured out, and then honor other people due to the reality that God created them, too — “all men are created equal.” I am no better nor worse than they.

Yet we live in a culture where we are increasingly discriminatory toward life. We pick and choose which lives mean more. We trump some life more than others — the rich or poor, healthy or handicapped, smart or stupid, born or unborn, young or old, male or female, etc. etc. Please feel no judgment there, friends. I am equally guilty of at times believing one life is more valuable than another.

The only wise response seems to humble ourselves and pray. When we humble ourselves and pray, we deal with our own guilt. When we humble ourselves and pray, we are more capable of refraining from jumping on the rants. And when we humble ourselves and pray, we have more compassion for all people… not just some. Maybe then, finally, we can wrestle with the actual bottom line. Maybe then we can discuss what’s so tricky and tough.

Respectfully…

AR

Each of us is involved in different activities. Our friends and kids have varied interests. And whether it be football or flag corps or bowling or the “Brain Game” team, each activity has that climactic moment capping the season, when excellence is acknowledged. In one sport we call it the “super bowl”; in another, it’s a wacky 3 weeks of “madness.”

Among multiple activities, my sophomore son is involved in high school show choir. In show choir, there is not a single, season-ending event, but there exist less than a handful of climactic competitions that are considered most prestigious. Not everyone who is capable participates in these events; however, those that do are typically very talented.

JT and his peers competed this past weekend at what may currently be the most prestigious high school finals: FAME of the Show Choir National Championship Series, held in Chicago. Qualified choirs had to previously finish either 1st or 2nd (or be given a special judge’s pass) from one of six qualifying events held across the country beginning in February. Our choir — “By Request” — qualified by coming in second in FAME’s March contest at the Lincoln Center in New York City.

For the finals, choirs came from California, Iowa, Mississippi, New York, Oklahoma, etc. Eighteen excellent choirs participated. Each group is then given one chance. For an average of approximately seventeen minutes on stage, each high school took their one and only turn.

When “By Request” began to sing (being the softie that I seem to be coming more and more as I grow older), my eyes got a little teary. There is just something about seeing youth utilize their giftedness — whatever their gifts may be — that is beautiful and pure.

They immediately began thrilling the crowd with the cleanness of their choreography and crispness of their voice; it became quickly clear that they were giving their seventeen minutes of so-called “FAME” everything they had. Their season would be capped by this moment. Note that while our choir has received multiple accolades all season long, I had yet to see these growing young men and women perform as wonderfully as they did that day.

The crowd and kids knew it, too; they had done their best. And so both the kids behind the curtain and the adults in the auditorium high-fived and hugged one another when their performance ended; we were so proud.

Let me be clear, though…

Our pride was not based on any ranking. Our thankfulness was not dependent on placement. Our joy was also not tied to the concept of winning. Our joy was totally based on the fact that those kids did their best. And our best is always good enough.

A few short hours later (since in this country, it seems we must always have a winner), the award ceremony took place. Adding to my tears, no less, was the succeeding moment when “By Request” was named “1st runner up. It was an awesome, humbling experience.

It was one of those moments you knew was precious… you knew was unique… you just knew was such an overwhelming, obvious blessing that you wanted to soak up every single second, embracing the accomplishment, cherishing the time — proud of each of the kids.

But I was struck by one thing more… those kids who’ve worked so hard all year long — along with so many others across the country — had no qualms about not being first. Their joy was not tempered in any way by not being crowned the sole winner of the competition. They were humbled and excited and full of joy because they knew they did their best… and they knew their best was good enough.

Here’s to you, “By Request.” We’re proud of you…

Always.

Respectfully…

AR

Take note of the following recent headlines: (Don’t read anything into these. I am attempting to make a point…)

• The Hillary Show
• America Needs Hillary
• Here Comes Hillary
• Clinton Begins Campaign, and It’s a Toss-Up
• Why Clinton Campaign Will Be Trainwreck
• Hillary Clinton, Reinvented
• Hillary Clinton’s Quest to Prove Her Populist Edge
• Hillary Clinton’s “Inevitable” Problem
• Everyone Knows Clinton Is the Candidate of Wall St.
• Clinton’s Truman Show Campaign
• Memo to Hillary: Bitch Is Still the New Black
• Hillary Is the Plastic Candidate with the AstroTurf Campaign

• Clinton Lifts Populist Spirits
• Hillary’s Fake Populism is a Hit
• Hillary’s Liz Warren Impression Not Going Well
• Hillary Clinton: Out of Sync With the Times
• Hillary Clinton’s Joyless Ride
• Hillary’s Real Opponent: Obama
• For Better/Worse, Hillary Runs for Obama 3rd Term
• Hillary Tries to Recast Ties to Obama
• Jeepers! Hillary’s Campaign Is Even Creepier Than You Think
• Hillary Clinton Is a Survivor
• Why Hillary Clinton Will Likely Lose
• Clinton Is Everything Dems Say They Oppose
• Can Hillary Clinton Really Change?
• Can Hillary Overcome Her Weaknesses?
• Clinton Is the Democrats’ Romney
• Grandmother-in-Chief
• Clinton Fatigue Returns
• The Selling of Hillary, 2016

Each of the above 30 headlines came from a prominent national publication last week. From a fairly flippant perusal, it’s easy to see that many already have an opinion on Hillary — on who she is and on the running of her campaign.

Let me quickly offer two quick caveats: (1) the Intramuralist cannot and will not spend the next 18 months talking about any one person. And (2) there’s no need to pick on Hillary.

Hillary Clinton (like most candidates) has been actively crafting a campaign that makes her look good, sound good, and appear to be the most desirable candidate. Let’s be clear: the goal of the campaign is to secure the most votes. One of the greatest impurities of the American election process (which again, affects all candidates) is that campaigns are crafted to get desired people elected; they are not designed to share the most accurate reflections of a person’s ability, beliefs, nor character. For all those running on all partisan sides, that makes me sad.

I’d instead prefer what I”d like to call a “Brave Campaign.” Follow me here… In recents months, I’ve been unable to get Sara Bareilles’s “Brave” song out of my head (…for which those in close physical proximity to me, are so incredibly thankful). The lyrics go as follows:

Say what you wanna say

And let the words fall out

Honestly I wanna see you be brave

With what you want to say

And let the words fall out

Honestly I wanna see you be brave

I just wanna see you

I just wanna see you

I just wanna see you

I wanna see you be brave

That’s what I want from each person running for president. I don’t want carefully crafted campaigns no matter the “D” or “R” next to the name. I want them to say what they wanna say… say what they really think… “I just wanna see” them for who they really are. I “just wanna see them” be brave.

Respectfully…

AR

As many are aware, my beautiful sister passed away a little more than seven weeks ago. After a year plus battle with (that stupid) cancer, Nicole physically succumbed to the illness at the precious age of 34.

Allow me to share three, relevant truths:

1. It’s been hard.
2. We each handle grief differently, and that’s ok. And…
3. This has changed me.

While public blogging cannot fully substitute for the wisdom found in personal journaling (a message Millennials with active “Tumblr” accounts might want to note prior to any job application), there’s an aspect of the truths above that significantly affects the Intramuralist. It has to do with the “changing me” part. For example…

I have less patience with injustice… Because my family has just walked through an experience that magnified both the reality and mortality of the human life, I’m currently less willing to put up with injustice or transgression. Please don’t confuse “injustice” with “social justice.” Far too many social advocates claim the rights of one are being wronged while simultaneously defending the right to verbally trounce on another. That doesn’t appeal to me. I simply have less patience with obvious wrongdoing, as we often unfortunately witness in current events. Note that this awareness includes wrongdoing/wrongful thinking found within myself.

I feel less judgmental… While less tolerant of wrongdoing, there’s also less of me involved in the acknowledgement of the error; it’s very humbling. For example, one could conclude that the Intramuralist has been a little hard on Tiger Woods in recent years. I have not hesitated in stating that his rampant infidelity was wrong. However, I would also be quick to tell you that Tiger is no better nor worse than me; we each have our struggles. (Granted, my golf game struggles far more…)

I have a greater grasp of both the need — and misuse — of compromise… None of us — not any politician or parent — should always “have their way.” There are times we need to meet in the middle — with our constituents and our kids. Wisdom does not allow for the notion that our position makes us right and that we no longer need to weigh the wants of another — even if the other’s position seems lesser in status or responsibility. Granted, there are times where compromise simply doesn’t work; you can’t be a “little bit pregnant” or other oxymoronic mediums. Hence, there are times to compromise and times to not; the key is the discernment in knowing the difference.

I feel more grounded faithfully… There’s nothing like death that soberly confronts what we actually believe. “Dancing through life” is not an eternal, viable option because someday, the dance will end. But unlike those who advocate for a smorgasbord of beliefs being equally good and true, that doesn’t make sense to me either. Sorry, but the idea of being carried to a “landing station” on Venus when I die or that only 144,000 people go to heaven are not concepts full of either hope or logic. Hence, sincerely speaking with all due respect, not all ideas are equally good and true.

I am more transparent… Perhaps the most significant change I sense thus far is that while I’ve always believed in transparency, there is a renewed sense of genuineness within me. There is no topic I’d be unwilling to discuss. There is no issue, therefore, that the Intramuralist will totally avoid. Whether it’s the ugliness of polarized partisanship, the “contrived-ness” of political campaigns, the moral digression of society, or — as my sweet sister wisely encouraged — a focus on the positive — on the things that give us hope — we will continue to be transparent on the Intramuralist.

These past few weeks have been hard. They’ve changed me. My desire is to honor my sister in how I live. I see that happening already.

Back to my journal… for now…

Respectfully… AR

The difference between a 16 year old and an 18 year old is huge. As my oldest approaches graduation — an event the Intramuralist will undoubtedly address more directly in the days to come — I am keenly aware of the growth that occurs those final few years of high school. While none should be considered clones of another, a significant growth step we’ve witnessed in our household is seeing our son learn to listen.

By listening I don’t simply mean being still while another is speaking. I don’t mean feigning nor faking attention. I also don’t mean simply being quiet, and then in quietness, focusing most on our quick-to-come, instant reply. By listening I mean being intentional in understanding what another is attempting to say, not reacting defensively to what is said, and respectfully interacting with that person in a way which validates the communication, but still allows for disagreement. It’s more an “I hear you. And if I understand you correctly, you are saying the following…” Let me also add that listening is a rare skill.

Acknowledging such rareness is the profound insight of a favorite columnist, Kirsten Powers. Powers is a weekly USA Today contributor who describes herself as a proud, lifelong liberal, young Christian, and a vocal LGBT rights supporter. On May 4,2015, her new book will be released, entitled: The Silencing: How the Left is Killing Free Speech.

Powers describes the political “left” — a group with whom she identifies — as marching toward conformity via an illiberal war on free speech. This “illiberal Left” now viciously attacks and silences anyone with alternative points of view. Note her example, penned recently in her weekly column [emphasis is mine]:

“…After decades of fighting for gay rights, those who should be guzzling the bubbly are muzzling the vanquished. It’s hard for the people who call themselves liberals (while acting like anything but) to top their past bullying and intolerance of those who won’t fall in line with their worldview. Yet, with the Indiana religious freedom bill, they pulled it off. After Memories Pizza owner Crystal O’Connor told an Indiana reporter that she would not cater a gay wedding because it would conflict with her religious beliefs, the world exploded.

A girls golf coach at an Indiana high school tweeted, ‘Who’s going to Walkerton, IN to burn down #memoriespizza w me?’ The pizzeria outside South Bend received death threats and harassment and felt forced to shut down the shop. It’s Yelp page was vandalized with obscene and homo-erotic pictures. The owners have said they don’t know if it will be safe to re-open.

How many gay people had asked to have their wedding catered by this small-town pizza joint? None. What number of gay people had been denied a slice by O’Connor? Zero. In fact, the owners told the reporter that they would never refuse to serve a gay customer who came to the restaurant to eat. The wrath of gay rights supporters rained down on Memories Pizza because O’Connor committed a thought crime. She discriminated against nobody, but thinks the ‘wrong’ thing about same-sex marriage and she said it out loud…

What happened in Indiana is reminiscent of the bullying that led to the ouster of Mozilla CEO Brendan Eich exactly this time last year. Eich was harangued for a six-year-old donation supporting an anti-gay marriage ballot initiative, but ultimately purged for refusing to recant his beliefs about marriage…”

In her book, Powers questions how much truth and free speech actually matter — wondering if ideology now trumps all.

I realize this example is a sensitive, emotionally-charged issue. I realize it’s also an area in which persons across the ideological map need to learn to converse better. It is an area, no less, in which some have never learned to listen — and even more justify not listening… which means being intentional, not reacting defensively, and respectfully interacting with another, still allowing for disagreement.

Respectfully…

AR

Ok, something somewhere is sticking in my craw here. True, that’s not a phrase the Intramuralist uses with any frequency. I’m not certain I even know exactly what a “craw” is. Since Google often makes each of us look a little smarter than we really are, I’ve learned that a “stick in your craw” means something unacceptable — something annoying, typically because we believe it to be wrong. Granted, when I look up the meaning solely of the word “craw” — meaning “the crop of a bird or insect” or “the stomach of an animal” — it still doesn’t make total sense to me; hence, we’ll go with the original “annoying” application. Something seems off.

Last week in a Boston courtroom, former NFL star, Aaron Hernandez, was convicted of murder. He was found guilty of murder in the first degree — killing previous friend/acquaintance, Olin Lloyd — a charge that carries an automatic sentence of life in prison without parole in the state of Massachusetts.

Like I said, something here still sticks in my craw.

Let’s not pile on this previous Patriots Pro-Bowler. A sin is a sin is a sin; each of us make mistakes; some simply seem far more grievous than others. So let’s begin by stating the facts…

In 2007, when only 17, Hernandez refused to pay his bar tab after drinking illegally and then punched a pub employee in the ear, rupturing the man’s eardrum. Although the Gainesville, FL police department recommended charging Hernandez with felony battery, the incident was settled privately, out of court.

In the summer of 2012, a double murder took place in Boston. Two years later — only after the murder of Lloyd — Hernandez was indicted for those killings (for which he will soon also be tried).

In the summer of 2013, a friend filed an assault charge against Hernandez for a previous incident in which the friend alleges Hernandez caused the loss of his right eye.

My conclusion? Herein lies a pattern of foolish behavior.

Yet from 2007 through 2013 — until the murder of Lloyd and the reports that Hernandez was at the scene of the killing — what did we as a public most hear about Hernandez?

Aaron Hernandez… drafted in the 4th round by the New England Patriots…. member of the BCS National Championship team… All-American at the University of Florida… top tight end recruit out of high school… great player… amazing talent… contributed mightily even as a freshman… leading the Gators… recognized as the nation’s top tight end after only his junior year… left college early, because he was so talented…

Goes to New England… becomes the youngest player on any active roster in the NFL… phenomenal player… earns “NFL Rookie of the Week” honors… makes millions… leads the team to the Super Bowl… awarded more millions…

In other words, because Hernandez was gifted on the football field, we heard all about his physical talent. We heard little about his character… even though the foolish pattern was ongoing the entire time.

With who else — within sports, politics, entertainment, etc. — do we focus on something less than character?

… because we are so attracted to their talent? … to their gifting or eloquence?

If we are attracted to something less than character, then perhaps we are the ones who have been fooled.

Respectfully…

AR