chicken or egg

photo-1414048512375-319531a5895f-1

So I’m getting a little tired of this seemingly expanding chicken/egg mentality.

You know the drill… Which came first? The chicken or the egg? It’s the causality dilemma connecting two processes, where the first process is understood to be partly responsible for the second.

In the proverbial pondering, no less, as to whether the fowl or its ovum was the first to exist, this question originally evoked in regard to how life began has been seemingly perverted to allow for an onslaught of lesser things…

Who first started the name calling?
Who first started the disrespect?
Who first lied?
Who first posted a flippant rant on Facebook?
Who first disregarded the opinion of another?
Who first infringed on the rights of someone else?
Who first failed to limit their spending?
Who first quit listening to the totality of their constituents?
Who first justified arrogance?
Who first believed that narcissism was an acceptable trait?

My point is that we often justify less than admirable behavior in ourselves or in others because someone else did it first — because some so-called “chicken” already existed.

My sense is that we would be a far wiser people group if we recognized that the answer to the question — which came first: the chicken or the egg — doesn’t matter. Whether or not the chicken or the egg was here first or even always existed does not change what’s right or wrong. Neither gives us license to behave in ways that are less than admirable…

There is no justification for lying…
No justification for disrespect…
No justification for withholding kindness…
No justification for disavowing empathy…
No justification for narcissism…

No justification.

Friends, this may be arguably the boldest statement the Intramuralist has ever put in print, but I believe it to be true: morality is not relative. What’s right or wrong and our code of ethics is not dependent on the people around us. “Everyone’s doing it” or “he did it first” is an insufficient justification that intelligent people get by with using way too often; it doesn’t make sense. It isn’t ethical and it is not wise. No one else is responsible for my bad behavior; “the first process” should not be “understood to be partly responsible for the second,” so-to-speak.

Still, for centuries people have continued to ponder the question: which came first? Aristotle concluded that both the bird and egg must have always existed. Plato concurred.

 And truthfully, as I imagine the animals peacefully paraded, one-by-one in front of Adam in the Garden of Eden — with Adam being given the unprecedented opportunity to name each amazing creature — I can’t see the great big God of the universe holding up some indiscriminate egg, saying, “So what’s this?” Hence, in my definite, limited reasoning, the chicken most certainly came first. 🙂

But the reality is that my opinion doesn’t matter. Whether the chicken came first doesn’t matter; in other words, such doesn’t have any affect on how we are called to behave now…

… as what is good and right and true does not depend on any who came or behaved poorly before.

Respectfully…
AR

demanding

photo-1453738773917-9c3eff1db985

I don’t know why sometimes bad things happen to good people. I don’t get it, understand it, nor typically, usually like it. I don’t know why perceived good things happen to some people and bad things happen to others. I don’t know why some people “have all the luck” and others seem to have close to none. I don’t know.

I do know that I am incapable of being the distributor of those good and bad things. I am incapable of leveling the playing field. And I am incapable of “playing god,” so-to-speak. I am not omniscient, omnipotent, nor anything close.

I have come to a place, when I don’t like the circumstances, where I know I must trust in God’s sovereignty — accepting what I cannot change, having courage to change what I can, and praying for the wisdom to know the difference.

I thank God for our blessings — for yours and for mine, recognizing they are different — and I ask for strength when life is hard or makes little sense — also, for you and for me. I try to thank God whenever I can… thanking him most, because he is trustworthy. He is omniscient and omnipotent, even though we are admittedly not.

I think we have a lot of trouble with that last phrase — that we are not omniscient and omnipotent. While there certainly is a time and a place to be bold and courageous and learn to fight for what’s right, sometimes I sense a demandingness which has permeated our pursuit; there’s a finger pointing that becomes more prominent than any self-examination. We become demanding. Demandingness seems to fly in the face of a sovereign God.

Recently, my family and I took an extended trip South. We were no further than 45 minutes from home, when the first potentially awful experience unfolded right before our eyes…

In five full lanes of traffic, near rush hour, at speeds in excess of 75 m.p.h. (shhh — don’t tell my mother), we were fairly close to bumper to bumper, when I first saw it. Three cars right in front of me, in the far left lane, the four door gold sedan got too far left, crossing over the pavement rumble strips on the side of the road. Overcorrecting, the driver lost control of his car, shooting him then too far right, at which time he was tagged and turned by an oncoming semi. He went across two more lanes of traffic, apparently then hit by another car.

Those of us who were behind had to decide instantaneously how to respond. Now semi-shaken, I dove left, also over the rumble strips, slamming on my brakes, praying not to hit the car in front of me or that the car immediately behind would ram into me. All five lanes came to an abrupt halt, with the driver seemingly ok, but significant pieces of the vehicle heavily strewn across the highway.

Still shaken, only six miles later, we were discussing how fortunate we were in that situation and how easily that could have been far worse. I then looked in my side mirror, only to see an SUV heading straight for me, about to make contact! I was now in the middle lane, with slightly lighter traffic, but the car was half in my lane, half in the far left lane; he was coming right at me!

I swerved to the right, narrowly avoiding contact. The SUV then flew right past me, with my impression that the driver seemed oblivious to the perilous scenario that was avoided, no thanks to him. He sped on by, with zero eye contact or acknowledgement, noticeably still drifting at a speed of over 80 m.p.h.

My spouse and I discerned that something must be wrong; hence, we made the decision to speed up, seeing if we could get a license plate number. But as soon as we made that decision, the black SUV slammed into the pickup in front of him! Again, we darted left to avoid the debris field; pieces from both vehicles now adorned the highway. Again — thank God — it looked like all were ok.

I don’t know why bad things happen to good people. I don’t know why sometimes we’re included and sometimes we’re narrowly not; sometimes I think we are far closer to being included than we will ever know. But I do humbly believe, as I did on the road recently, for example, that in all things, through the obvious blessings and obvious challenges, God is still sovereign.

There is a time to give thanks… and a time to ask for strength. I’m not sure there’s ever a time to become demanding.

Respectfully…
AR

where are the david’s?

photo-1453106037972-08fbfe790762

Pondering the ancient scriptures on this global holiday… camping on one all of us know. I have two questions today…

“… A giant nearly ten feet tall stepped out from the Philistine line into the open, Goliath from Gath. He had a bronze helmet on his head and was dressed in armor — 126 pounds of it! He wore bronze shin guards and carried a bronze sword. His spear was like a fence rail — the spear tip alone weighed over fifteen pounds. His shield bearer walked ahead of him.

Goliath stood there and called out to the Israelite troops, ‘Why bother using your whole army? Am I not Philistine enough for you? … Pick your best fighter and pit him against me. If he gets the upper hand and kills me, the Philistines will all become your slaves. But if I get the upper hand and kill him, you’ll all become our slaves and serve us. I challenge the troops of Israel this day. Give me a man. Let us fight it out together!’

When Saul and his troops heard the Philistine’s challenge, they were terrified and lost all hope.

Enter David. He was the son of Jesse from Bethlehem in Judah. Jesse, the father of eight sons… David was the youngest son. While his three oldest brothers went to war with Saul, David went back and forth from attending to Saul to tending his father’s sheep in Bethlehem.

Each morning and evening for forty days, Goliath took his stand and made his speech.

One day… David was up at the crack of dawn and, having arranged for someone to tend his flock, took the food and was on his way just as Jesse had directed him. He arrived at the camp just as the army was moving into battle formation, shouting the war cry. Israel and the Philistines moved into position, facing each other, battle-ready. David left his bundles of food in the care of a sentry, ran to the troops who were deployed, and greeted his brothers. While they were talking together, the Philistine champion, Goliath of Gath, stepped out from the front lines of the Philistines, and gave his usual challenge. David heard him.

The Israelites, to a man, fell back the moment they saw the giant—totally frightened. The talk among the troops was, ‘Have you ever seen anything like this, this man openly and defiantly challenging Israel? The man who kills the giant will have it made. The king will give him a huge reward, offer his daughter as a bride, and give his entire family a free ride.’

David, who was talking to the men standing around him, asked, ‘What’s in it for the man who kills that Philistine and gets rid of this ugly blot on Israel’s honor? Who does he think he is, anyway, this uncircumcised Philistine, taunting the armies of God-Alive?’

They told him what everyone was saying about what the king would do for the man who killed the Philistine.

Eliab, his older brother, heard David fraternizing with the men and lost his temper: ‘What are you doing here! Why aren’t you minding your own business, tending that scrawny flock of sheep? I know what you’re up to. You’ve come down here to see the sights, hoping for a ringside seat at a bloody battle!’

‘What is it with you?’ replied David. ‘All I did was ask a question.’ Ignoring his brother, he turned to someone else, asked the same question, and got the same answer as before.
The things David was saying were picked up and reported to Saul. Saul sent for him.

‘Master,’ said David, ‘don’t give up hope. I’m ready to go and fight this Philistine.’

Saul answered David, ‘You can’t go and fight this Philistine. You’re too young and inexperienced—and he’s been at this fighting business since before you were born.’

David said, ‘I’ve been a shepherd, tending sheep for my father. Whenever a lion or bear came and took a lamb from the flock, I’d go after it, knock it down, and rescue the lamb. If it turned on me, I’d grab it by the throat, wring its neck, and kill it. Lion or bear, it made no difference—I killed it. And I’ll do the same to this Philistine pig who is taunting the troops of God-Alive. God, who delivered me from the teeth of the lion and the claws of the bear, will deliver me from this Philistine.’

Saul said, ‘Go. And God help you!’ ”

We know the rest of the story. The military leaders attempt to outfit David in armor; he resists, instead selecting five smooth stones from the nearby brook. When Goliath sees young David, he mocks and ridicules him even more. David is faithful. Man can never outdo God and what he would do. Hence, stones will beat a spear if God is the director of the stones. That’s how David beat the giant — with a sling and a stone… slinging it, hitting Goliath hard in the forehead, embedding the stone deeply.

So here are my two questions… First, recognize that no one encouraged David to do what he did. No one. There was no consensus. So question number one is: where are the “David’s” in life — where are those who are brave regardless of the behavior of the insulated groups around them? Does bravery only come via consensus?

And then, question number two: are we ever called to be the “David”?

Respectfully…
AR

use of the word “hate”

photo-1446825597988-2bb4dfd264ac

One of my lifelong bottom lines is that we continually misuse the word “hate.” From the angry adolescent who “hates” brussels sprouts served at dinner to grown adults “hating when that happens,” I question the use of the word. I even sometimes question the phrase “hate crimes” — not because of any lack of compassion. My thought is more that any crime intentionally directed at another is motivated by hate. Hence, crime is hateful.

So in trying to wrap my small brain around what happened in Belgium on Tuesday, I find myself wavering once again between shock, anger, denial, and throwing something semi-breakable at the newscast on my high definition TV.

How could a person do that?
How could they be so open to evil?
How could they care so little about the life of another person?

And don’t get me started on this one… If these men at some point attempt to proclaim that they were motivated by God or by faith… please. No omniscient, loving God would advocate the intentional killing of the innocent. No, their supposed faith is nowhere close to authentic or good.

There exists, no less, a valid reason to feel “hate.” While I much prefer peace (and am very thankful for my friends who consistently advocate for such), I do see a place for hate. Note the following: it’s limited, rare, and not self-driven.

Read that again: Limited. Rare. And not self-driven.

Where I’ve come out on this after extensive wrestling — and what I’ve tried to semi-humbly teach my kids — is that hate is valid if our hate is consistent with what the great big God of the universe hates. What does he hate? Here are six things… and one more that he loathes with a passion:

“Eyes that are arrogant,
a tongue that lies,
hands that murder the innocent,
a heart that hatches evil plots,
feet that race down a wicked track,
a mouth that lies under oath,
and a troublemaker in the family.”

Near 8 a.m. on Tuesday morning, two blasts detonated in the departures terminal at the airport in Brussels. It was one of the busiest times of day in one of the busier weeks of the year. Windows shattered. Ceilings collapsed. Hundreds bled. Just after 9 a.m., another blast occurred at the metro station. At least 34 people have died.

The radical Islamic terrorist group, ISIS, quickly claimed responsibility for the attacks, which occurred four days after the surviving suspect in the November Paris attack — in which 130 people were killed — was finally arrested.

More attacks may be planned. In fact, one evolving chief concern is that the radical Islamic group may now be firmly implanted in Europe; there have been three large-scale terrorist attacks in Europe in solely the past 15 months.

So allow me to now use the word “hate” appropriately. I hate what these terrorists did. I hate what they still plan to do. I hate what motivates them… arrogant eyes, murderous hands, evil plots, and feet racing down nothing less than a wicked track. I hate that.

God be with the families in Belgium.

(Now looking for something to throw at my TV.)

Respectfully…
AR

 

just a game?

photo-1413919873593-061d76ec8452

As I empathized with many, watching my beloved alma mater be included in the unfortunate list of first round tournament upsets over the weekend, I wrestled with the timeless mantra of this being somehow “just a game”… “It’s just a game,” we like to say.

Right… so that’s supposed to make me feel better?

I’m not sure I believe that it really is “just a game” — and I say that not solely as one whose wadded up bracket is currently occupying space in the closest trash can. I mean, by definition — basketball, football, soccer, you name it — they are each games — show choir, band, gymnastics, etc. They are each a form of play or sport, played according to a certain set of rules.

But consistent with my frequent assertion, often articulated relevant to a specific post — that “this is not a sports post” — sports are where we learn so many valuable lessons far beyond the game idea…

… realizing the benefit of hard work…
… comprehending how hard work pays off over time…
… knowing the necessary investment in ongoing training…
… seeing the beauty of discipline…
… seeing the beauty of perseverance…
… recognizing the need for emotional control…
… keeping emotions from overtaking us and making poor choices…
… channeling our emotions into something good…
… not over-reacting to a given moment in time…
… recognizing that one “up” or one “down” is only a snapshot in time; it’s not the whole picture…
… grasping the concept of team…
… grasping the beauty of team…
… learning compassion and empathy for teammates…
… acquiring genuine respect for the opposition…
… acknowledging how solid competition spurs us on…
… and never seeing self as better and best…
… simply wanting to improve…
… simply wanting to grow…

I think better said than “it’s just a game” is that sports are an arena in which we have that opportunity to grow. But an opportunity is only an opportunity if and when we seize it.

When we refuse to seize the opportunity — when we attempt to simply brush it off a loss with the convenient “it’s just a game” mentality — I wonder whether that causes us to focus only on the outcome, instead recognizing all of the above listed benefits.

I think of the NCAA tournament, now headed to next week’s slate of games that are advertised as nothing less than “sweet.” The reality of the NCAA men’s basketball tournament is that while 68 teams are included, 67 of those 68 will lose their last game. Should those 67 then walk off with their heads held in paralyzing despair? There is certainly room for disappointment — especially when not executing ability to one’s furthest extent; and that disappointment can drive us to improve and achieve. But there is also room for growth, if we recognize the contest actually is far more than any game. The idea is to not get so caught up in only the wins and losses.

Sometimes I think we encourage evaluation of the outcome only, as if such is the only measure of success. We miss the benefits in how the game is prepared for and played.

Perhaps then, the “just a game” idea is more said to make us one time hopefuls — those with the wadded up brackets — feel better after a disappointing loss. Maybe it’s said to soften the blow. After all, how many times is the “just a game” mantra mentioned after a rousing, spectacular win?

No, it’s not just a game.

Respectfully…
AR

the underdog

photo-1433162653888-a571db5ccccfFor nine years, Shoeshine Boy’s heroic alter ego blessed many via his appearance on Saturday morning’s weekly slate of cartoons. “There’s no need to fear; Underdog is here!”

“…When in this world the headlines read
Of those whose hearts are filled with greed
Who rob and steal from those who need
To right this wrong with blinding speed
Goes Underdog! Underdog! Underdog! Underdog!
Speed of lightning, roar of thunder
Fighting all who rob or plunder
Underdog. Underdog!”

As we currently find ourselves wrapped in both the madness of March and current election cycle, I find myself dreaming of those simple Saturday morning cartoons… Underdog! The underdog is the little guy — the David in the world of Goliaths, the competitor thought to have little chance to win, with little to no societal status. The beauty of the underdog — if we pause long enough to see it — is that he is someone who is “humble” and “lovable.” In fact, his humility is much of what actually makes him so lovable.

I find myself thinking that encouraged humility is rare these days; it’s as if we’ve allowed humility to somehow have become equated with weakness or being imposed upon. Thus in this world where we continually aver to “stand up for oneself” and “not take crud from anybody,” we’ve somehow suppressed the consistent encouragement of humility.

We also applaud ample behavioral contradictions… all the ongoing chest thumping and bumping, the social media rants and frequent “take that’s,” the disrespectful protests and deafening cheers — like it doesn’t matter who else may be affected by our behavior. And when it doesn’t matter who else is affected, conceit — the opposite of humility — creeps in.

Conceit often seems a more accepted societal position. And when we willingly embrace that excessive pride in oneself and our way of thinking, we forget that in humility, there is something beautiful; in the underdog, there is something beautiful…

There is something beautiful in the NCAA men’s college basketball tournament, when the underdogs labeled as the 13th, 14th, and 15th seeds all win on the same day…
There is something beautiful when a tiny mid-major school succeeds over a prominent basketball powerhouse…
There is something beautiful in the “little guy” banking in a miraculous, last-second three point shot — perhaps the “best shot ever,” as some would go on to say.

No one expected these “little guys” to win.

That’s it; there is no expectation of winning in the underdog. If you win, it’s a gift. It’s an opportunity. It’s a blessing. Blessings should never be confused with entitlement or expectation.

And yet infused in our society, we tend to utilize a colloquial language so inundated with self… “I, me, my, myself,” my spouse and I often say. Too many of us too often employ a vocabulary centered on self. “We” are often the subject of our sentences.

It’s like the athlete or politician who believes they’re God’s gift to the world. Friends, let me be very clear: we are never God’s gift to the world; the world is God’s gift to us. I think the underdog knows that.

The majority of “Underdog” cartoons ended with a common scene. A crowd of people would look up to the sky, saying, “Look in the sky!” “It’s a plane!” “It’s a bird!”

An elderly woman would then exclaim, “It’s a frog!”

“A frog?!” said another.

To this, Underdog replied:
“Not plane, nor bird, nor even frog,
It’s just little old me. Underdog.”

Little old me… the little guy. Humble. Lovable. There’s something beautiful in that.

Respectfully…
AR

 

an offensive position

80b0d25eThis election cycle is challenging for many of us; many of us are increasingly concerned about the selection of candidates and all that’s evolving. So let me start with the stated desire to ratchet it down a notch. One of the most challenging aspects of all discussion — thanks much to the influence of media and especially social media — is that the dialogue begins from a point of being all ratcheted up. I get it; treat my boys or beloved Boilermakers seemingly disrespectfully, and my ratcheting-up-potential rises exponentially, too.

But my point is that we too often start the conversation from an offensive position; we are already prone to pounce before any perspective is shared. It is thus very difficult to engage in dialogue when any of us — self included — are ready to pounce. In fact, I can state with almost all certainty that when we begin conversing from an offensive position, we will not listen well, not find solution, not discern common ground, and the probability is especially high that the only opinion we will affect or change is to assist another in becoming more quickly entrenched in their ongoing oppositional stance. Offensive positions — regardless of intellect — obstruct respectful dialogue and solution.

It is an offensive position to start with malevolent comparisons. For example — as shared in a recent post — many compare current presidential candidate Donald Trump and his rhetoric to Adolf Hitler; he is not. Eight years ago, many compared then presidential candidate Barack Obama and his rhetoric to the anti-Christ; he is not. Yet even as I write this, I’m sensitive to the notion that many will still fully justify one of the above, boldly averring why their comparison is the correct one.

Please know that my desire this day is not to compare Obama and Trump; my thoughts instead center around the comparable reactions of the people to these one-time candidates and the seemingly resulting mob mentality — both for and against them. Eight years ago, there were plenty of people admittedly scared about a possible President Obama; today there are plenty of people admittedly scared about a possible President Trump. I sense a lot of “scared-ness.” There are valid reasons for the concern. There are also groups on all sides that are inflaming the fear. They want us to be scared.

One wise-dialoguing friend shared her perception this week, that “the right is scared of liberals, and the left is scared of conservatives. You aren’t allowed to be independent.” The perception is that if you identify primarily with one party, you cannot have any opinion that strays from the group’s — aka “mob’s” — stated perspective; the group herds us in, almost unknowingly, even with highly intelligent people. That kind of mentality, I fear, existed long before this current election cycle began.

It makes me wonder if in today’s polarized climate, have we lost our independence? Have we numbed our critical thinking skills? Have we been so seduced by passionate partisanship and emotion that we can no longer see any wisdom in another side? Do we not carefully or prayerfully consider that wisdom will never be equated with one person or party’s political platform?

As acknowledged, while I am not scared — primarily because my trust is in someone greater than any candidate — there are multiple aspects regarding each of the persons still running for President this year that concern me; some concern me deeply. What concerns me arguably more than any candidate, however, is the reaction of the people to each candidate… seen, for example…

… in the violence at the Trump rallies last weekend…
… in the intentional inciting of violence by a left wing advocacy group…
… and in the resulting mob mentality.

A “mob mentality” means individuals adopt certain behaviors and beliefs because they are influenced by the groups with which they identify; they may consciously or subconsciously adopt the behavior. Typically in such “mobs,” emotions become heightened, wisdom becomes based on group desire more than actual prudence, and previously unacceptable behaviors become justified…

… such as calling any candidate Hitler… or starting from an offensive position.

Oh, to think this election cycle includes six more months… Time to be on my knees more, wrestle with my concerns, and surrender any “scared-ness”… because no candidate/President thus far is the anti-Christ… and none will ever be mistaken for my Messiah.

Respectfully…
AR

 

cheering for the one who deserves it

7f047a9c

In this world in which frontrunners tend to dominate the news flow, one non-frontrunner stands out to me. It’s not one that I can vote for; if I could, I would. But there’s something about not being the frontrunner — and arguably, possibly never expecting to be there — that’s attractive. It’s humbling and sweet, precious and dear. Watching them, you just know they aren’t taking anything for granted. They’re not sitting there thinking any of the below:

“I was born for this.”
“It’s about time!”
“I deserve this.”
“It’s mine.”
“I’m so brilliant — such a gift to the world!”


There is an arrogance that permeates all of the above, it seems… a very unattractive arrogance, I would suggest.

But yes… this one… this is one I can get totally, wholeheartedly behind.

This one isn’t talking so much about self.
This one isn’t demonizing any opponent.
This one isn’t making promises he/she can’t keep.
This one isn’t advancing ideas that are economically unsound.
This one doesn’t just look good because he/she is being compared to another who looks a little wacko.
And this one doesn’t feel like they’re taking the opportunity for granted… like they should have been in this position long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away (…although some of us may wish they were in a galaxy fairly far away…).

I speak of one…

… one who perhaps never expected to be here. Something about that is refreshing this primary day.

On Saturday, with time running out and no polling data predicting a victory, the playing field looked even at best. Top-seeded New Mexico State was facing the California State Bakersfield Roadrunners in the Western Athletic Conference tournament final. It’s not the most formidable, talked-about conference or primary. 🙂

And Bakersfield… well, in the history of CSU Bakersfield, they have never before even qualified for the NCAA Men’s Division I Basketball Tournament. The small school has a little over eight thousand enrolled.

The game was tied in the closing seconds, and while it had been a battle, Bakersfield had never led. And then, in an instant, with less than a second remaining, Roadrunners guard Dedrick Basile “got his team dancing — both figuratively and literally,” as said by Bleacher Report — by shockingly draining a three point shot, right before the buzzer… for their first and only lead of the game.

The Roadrunners win!

Said Basile thereafter, “It’s one of the greatest feelings in the world right here. I mean, this is what I’ve always dreamed of.”

How good and pure and right and fun… How seemingly humble.

Way to go, Bakersfield! May you do well in the days ahead… may your attitude remain as contagiously sweet, regardless of outcome. May you always find victory in the journey — as opposed to measuring success only via victory for self.

Note: have I mentioned yet, how much more fun it is to root for “Roadrunners”? — as opposed to frontrunners?

Just sayin’…

Respectfully…
AR

 

godwin’s law

photo-1455723576895-6ab1d5abbcb9
In 1990, Mike Godwin, a lawyer and author, observed that in online conversations someone will eventually invoke the war against fascism. While social media has evolved into an arena in which respectful conversation is often, sadly, justifiably eliminated, such a phenomena is not limited to the online conversation.

Godwin framed what became known as “Godwin’s Law.” He surmised that, ”As an online discussion grows longer, the probability of a comparison involving Nazis or Hitler approaches 1” — that is, if an online discussion (regardless of topic or scope) goes on long enough, sooner or later someone will compare someone or something to Hitler or Nazism.

I’d like to refute Godwin’s so-called law.

However…

In 2013… Geoffrey Grider, the founder of “Now The End Begins,” penned a piece identifying the “13 Similarities Between Obama And Hitler” in a so-called “factual comparison.” He compared the sitting American president to Adolf Hitler.

In 2009, author Dick W. Zylstra, published a book about Pres. George W. Bush entitled “Little Hitler,” comparing America’s then previous president to Hitler; he especially pounced on Bush regarding his perceived use of “big lies” to achieve his goals.

And now in 2016, I see current American Republican frontrunner Donald Trump increasingly compared to the German dictator.

I have one thing to say…

Please.

Far too many politicians have lied. Big lies… small lies… manipulative, rhetorical lies. I can’t believe they all lie, but far too many seem to find it the easiest thing to do. Far too many have also seemingly put their personal ambitions above what may be best for our country — and that reference affects both parties — still today. I’ll go out on a semi-stable limb here, and suggest such may include both current party front-runners. I don’t know; my perception is limited. But neither candidate is Adolf Hitler; neither should be compared to a man who may be best described as the ugly manifestation of evil on this planet.

Adolf Hilter murdered millions.

He advocated the killing of the innocent simply because they were Jewish…

… simply because they were disabled…

… simply because they were related to any of the above…

Obama, Bush, Trump, etc. — with all due respect — cannot accurately be compared to Adolf Hitler; they are not he.

My increasing sense is that while many recognize the obvious disrespect evident via actual, disrespectful name-calling, they remain comfortable with disrespectful comparisons; and their comfort in actually employing the Nazi comparison often seems more prompted by their lack of comfort with an Obama, Bush, Trump or Clinton presidency…

There was only one Adolf Hitler.

Thank God.

My only wish is that there was none.

Respectfully…
AR

learning from the locker room

800px-Peyton_Manning_huddle

The tributes have poured in from across the country — from teammates, fans, celebrities and stars…

From former NBA’er, Allen Iverson: “Congrats to the best EVER! Peyton Manning! Thanks for GIVING US U!!!”

From actor Rob Lowe: “Peyton Manning’s farewell speech: a clinic on class, gratitude, humor, intellect and emotion. Football’s GOAT ambassador moves on. #18.” [“GOAT” refers to the sports acronym of “Greatest Of All Time.”]

From Tiger Woods: “It was an honor to watch #18 for all these years. He revolutionized the position. Now we can play more golf in the future, but this time I need shots. Also my Raiders have a better chance of finishing higher than 4th in the division now.”

From Indianapolis owner, Jim Irsay: “Few have left their marks on a sport as Peyton Manning has. Simply put, he revolutionized NFL football.”

From Denver legend, John Elway: “Peyton was a player that guys wanted to play with. The impact he has made and will continue to make to youth is second to none.”

And from New England, respected rival, Tom Brady: “Congratulations Peyton, on an incredible career. You changed the game forever and made everyone around you better. It’s been an honor.”

When a good man walks away — a person whose integrity is solid — people notice; the man will be missed. It was clear on Monday, when Peyton Manning retired from the NFL after 18 years, that he indeed will be deeply missed.

As a longtime Colts fan (although paling more than slightly in comparison to my older brother, a clear Manning aficionado), I enjoyed many of the insights and stories shared as a tribute. People spoke of his character and his work ethic; they spoke about his talent; and so many remarked about Manning’s meticulous preparation, a readiness that seemed second to none. One story, though, stood out to me, especially relevant here.

It wasn’t a story, however, that appeared on the front pages or web headlines; it went arguably unnoticed; and if shared, it was buried perhaps in the middle of longer commentaries of seemingly greater significance. But there was something deeper laced within the perspective that made me think of all those who desire to lead us now…

It was shared in a reflection between Bill Polian and Jeff Saturday — an executive and player who worked with Manning in Indianapolis. They spoke about Peyton’s locker room…

Most all pro football players dress, prepare, wind and unwind before and after games fairly near each other in their respective team locker rooms; the individual quarters are notoriously close to one another. The quarterbacks, however — especially the more well known in the league — typically have more segregated quarters. They have space roped off, allowing more room for both self and media interest.

That, though, was not the way of Peyton Manning.

Choosing to forgo the option of more isolated quarters, Manning chose to locker with his offensive line. He could have claimed a rightful space all his own, but he did not. He purposely chose to change along with the men who would protect him on the gridiron — interact with those whose names rarely show up in the headlines. Manning was building relationships of trust through routine, locker room activity. In other words, he forwent personal privilege for the purpose of building relationships and enhancing communication. His actions — which spoke far louder than his words — showed he never looked down on those whose role was different; he never thought of others as lesser.

Question (and especially relevant here): how are our leaders, truly servant leaders? How many are willing to forgo personal privilege because the organization they lead would be better served by their sacrifice?

Which then makes me ask: how many leaders have been as effective and successful as Peyton Manning?

Respectfully…
AR