America’s real national pastime

FootballAugust is finally here, which begs one very important question: Are you ready for some football?

Ready or not, pigskins are about to fly. The National Football League’s lockout has ended, training camps have opened, and the exhibition season begins with a slate of games on August 11. Meanwhile, the NCAA is preparing to kick off its regular season football schedule on September 1.

The men may be ready for some football, but wives and girlfriends across the nation are asking another question: Why do men like this sport so much? (At least that’s what my wife is asking, anyway.) Well, I’ve given it some thought, and come up with some answers, which we’ll get to in a moment.

First, understand this: football is America’s new national pastime. Sure, we still love our old national pastime, baseball. But football is the new king of sports. USA Today reports that Pro football games marked eight of last year’s top 10 television programs. Football is flat-out whipping every other American sport like a rented mule. The gridiron game also dominates sports talk radio. We just passed Major League Baseball’s July 31 trading deadline and are entering the home stretch in several pennant races, but talk show hosts can’t quit talking football. The networks aren’t stupid: they’ve done the research and know football generates ratings.

Why the fascination with football? We love the game for the many reasons, including the following.

We can watch the entire season.

Major League Baseball teams play 162 games every season. The average MLB game lasts approximately three hours, so watching every game would require an annual investment of approximately 486 hours. And that doesn’t include spring training or playoff games. Sure, some men are willing to make that kind of sacrifice. Those are the same guys who also have a hard time getting a girlfriend.

The NBA and the NHL both maintain 82 game schedules, not including an extensive four-round best-of-seven playoff format that could extend the season by as much as 28 games. Watching every single one of those games requires tying up two or three evenings a week for months on end.

On the other hand, the NFL maintains a reasonable 16-game schedule. Major college football programs play a 12-game regular season schedule. Even throwing in playoff and bowl games, you realistically can watch every snap of your favorite team’s season by committing just one afternoon per week for approximately four months. That’s doable.

As a bonus, you’ll still have time left to actually have a life.

We can relate to the players.

Football has a place for men of all shapes, sizes and stations in life. Review any NFL or D-1 college football roster, and you’ll find born-again Christians from the Bible Belt lining up beside gangbangers from the inner city. You’ve got Ivy League grads squaring off against men who used to stock grocery store shelves. (Kurt Warner still is my favorite player.) Linemen usually are wide and tall; wide receivers and defensive backs are skinny; running backs can be short and squat. No matter what you look like or where you come from, football’s got a position for you.

Football also is the most integrated sport. American professional sports remind me of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. Some black sports fans complain that Major League Baseball and the National Hockey League are too white. Some rural sports fans believe the National Basketball Association is too urban and too black. But sports fans of all classes and colors have found that the NFL and its NCAA counterpart are just right.

We love the big hits.

Some Christians criticize football because they believe it’s too violent. I’d be lying if I told you big hits aren’t part of the game’s appeal. Men like to see other men get the snot knocked out of them – literally. It’s why we like boxing, wrestling, martial arts and action heroes. Hey, even the Apostle Paul used wrestling and boxing analogies in his epistles.

Besides, the violence on the gridiron isn’t exactly the equivalent of the gladiatorial contests of ancient Rome. Football fans don’t want to see members of the opposing team get their heads chopped off or be maimed by wild beasts. Nothing beats seeing a wide receiver get blasted after catching a pass in the middle of the field, only to have him jump right back up and signal “first down!”

In recent years, the NFL and the NCAA have taken steps to try to protect players from injury while maintaining the integrity of the game. These efforts generally have been applauded. Only a fool wants to see another man get hurt. Knocked down, sure: knocked out, no.

We love the combination of strategy and athletic prowess.

Men typically enjoy games and events that employ strategy. That’s why we like studying military history and playing chess. All professional sports include some level of strategy, but football has the most. Teams have offensive and defensive playbooks filled with dozens of strategies for either scoring touchdowns or shoving the ball down the opposing team’s throat. On every play, each of the 11 players on both sides of the ball has a specific assignment. If players execute those assignments perfectly, the result could be a touchdown for the offense or a turnover for the defense.

Of course, most of the time players don’t execute their assignments perfectly. That’s when athletic prowess comes in handy. Nothing beats watching Michael Vick slither out of a lineman’s grasp and dash for a first down, or seeing Peyton Manning sling it 60 yards for a touchdown. We admire that athletic prowess because most men have played football at some level – even if it was just in the backyard – and know it isn’t nearly as easy as the pros make it look.

Writing this makes me nostalgic for the days of Detroit Lions running back Barry Sanders. I loved watching him play. Many times it looked as if he would be tackled in the backfield. Then he’d put on a little juke move, and the defense would be grasping at air as Sanders sailed downfield for a big gain. Former St. Louis Rams running back Marshall Faulk was the same way: he could make guys miss like no one else. He left fans with their mouths agape, asking “How did he do that?!”

Hey, I’m ready for some football!

The original Liberty Tree

Sons_of_Liberty_Broadside,_1765 The God of our fathers raised up Jesus whom you murdered by hanging on a tree. Him God has exalted to His right hand to be Prince and Savior, to give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins. – Acts 5:30-31, New King James Version

Today, those of us who live in the United States celebrate our nation’s independence. On this date in 1776, the Second Continental Congress formally adopted the Declaration of Independence. (Most historians believe the actual signing of the Declaration didn’t take place until early August.) The Declaration of Independence asserted that, from that point forward, the American colonies were independent of British rule.

The struggle for independence wasn’t the work of a day, of course. Britain’s 13 American colonies had been a cauldron of political discontent for some time. Americans balked at burdensome taxes and felt their needs were being ignored by parliament and the crown.

The problem came to a boil in 1765, when the British Parliament passed the infamous Stamp Act, a tax on all legal documents, permits, commercial contracts, newspapers, pamphlets, and playing cards. Then, as now, Americans hated what they considered to be an unfair tax. So, in true American fashion, they decided to hold demonstrations of protest.

One of the most famous Stamp Act protests took place in Boston, Massachusetts, the birthplace of the American Revolution. On August 14, 1765, a group of men calling themselves the “Sons of Liberty” gathered in front of a grocery store at the corner of Essex Street and Orange Street, near Hanover Square. They staged their anti-tax demonstration under a large, old elm tree, and concluded it in fine American fashion by hanging two tax collectors in effigy.

From that point forward, the elm at the corner of Essex and Orange became known as the “Liberty Tree.”

In following days, the Sons of Liberty gathered under the Liberty Tree to stage demonstrations against British tyranny. The tree became a rallying point for patriots and a symbol of the ongoing American struggle for freedom. Patriots hung banners and lanterns from its branches to symbolize unity to the cause of independence.

Not surprisingly, British sympathizers and agents of the British government did not feel an affinity for the old elm tree. They scorned what it represented and mocked the colonists who met in its shade. British soldiers even tarred and feathered a patriot named Thomas Ditson, and then forced him to march in front of the tree. Finally, late in August 1775, a party of Loyalists – colonists who sided with the British government – chopped down the Liberty Tree and used it for firewood.

The British and their sympathizers had done away with the Liberty Tree, but they couldn’t kill what it represented. As the seeds of revolution spread across the colonies, more “Liberty Trees” were selected as gathering places for patriots. If a tree was not available, locals erected a pole around which to plot. As the idea of liberty took root, images of the tree appeared on colonial flags.

After the Revolutionary War ended with American independence, the Liberty Tree lived on. It appeared in France in 1790 as a symbol of the revolution raging there. Five years later, another Liberty Tree was planted in Amsterdam. In 1798, Italians marked their freedom by establishing their own Liberty Tree. Even into the 20th century, the tradition of planting a tree to represent liberty endured.

Today, a bronze plaque marks the location of the original Liberty Tree in Boston. While you may not be able to visit that site today, we can stop and consider the price paid to win the freedoms we celebrate.

Independence Day also reminds Christians that political freedom means little if we are spiritually enslaved. (Spiritual enslavement leads to political enslavement.) However, spiritual liberty didn’t originate under a Boston elm tree: Jesus Christ won it for us on a tree outside Jerusalem almost two millennia ago.

Since that time, many have ridiculed the cross. Others have tried to erase its memory. But despite their efforts, that tree and the freedom it represents has spread around the globe. It lives on in the hearts of millions today.

So while we’re celebrating freedom, let us not forget the original Liberty Tree: the cross of Jesus Christ.

Have a great Independence Day!

Liberty Tree

A song, written early in the American Revolution by Thomas Paine, 1775

In a chariot of light from the regions of day,
The Goddess of Liberty came;
Ten thousand celestials directed the way,
And hither conducted the dame.

A fair budding branch from the gardens above,
Where millions with millions agree,
She brought in her hand as a pledge of her love,
And the plant she named Liberty Tree.

The celestial exotic struck deep in the ground,
Like a native it flourished and bore;
The fame of its fruit drew the nations around,
To seek out this peaceable shore.

Unmindful of names or distinctions they came,
For freemen like brothers agree;
With one spirit endued, they one friendship pursued,
And their temple was Liberty Tree.

Beneath this fair tree, like the patriarchs of old,
Their bread in contentment they ate
Unvexed with the troubles of silver and gold,
The cares of the grand and the great.

With timber and tar they Old England supplied,
And supported her power on the sea;
Her battles they fought, without getting a groat,
For the honor of Liberty Tree.

But hear, O ye swains, ’tis a tale most profane,
How all the tyrannical powers,
Kings, Commons and Lords, are uniting amain,
To cut down this guardian of ours;

From the east to the west blow the trumpet to arms,
Through the land let the sound of it flee,
Let the far and the near, all unite with a cheer,
In defense of our Liberty Tree.

Booze and the believer: Is it okay for Christians to drink alcohol?

It is not for kings, O Lemuel – not for kings to drink wine, not for rulers to crave beer… Proverbs 31:4, New International Version

I currently reside in Quincy, Illinois, a small city which comedian Jeff Foxworthy described as having a “bar and a church on every corner.” Foxworthy wasn’t joking. And it is not uncommon for people to leave one and immediately head for the other.

When it comes to Christians and their attitudes towards alcohol, it would seem that teetotalers are in the minority. Drinking is an accepted and widely practiced part of American culture, even in Christian circles. But regardless of what is culturally acceptable, the Bible is the final authority on the matter. However, uncovering what the Bible says about alcohol consumption by Christians may take more than a cursory review.

One fact must be established up front: God absolutely condemns drunkenness in the strongest terms. Paul listed those who would not “inherit the Kingdom of God,” and among those were “idolaters,” “adulterers,” “homosexual offenders,” “thieves” and “drunkards” (1 Corinthians 6:9-10). That definitely is not a club you want to be in. The Apostle also warned the members of the church at Ephesus, “Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery” (5:18). To Roman believers he wrote, “Let us behave decently … not in orgies and drunkenness” (13:13).

The Old Testament writers share several sobering stories that illustrate the dangers of getting drunk. The Bible first mentions alcohol in Genesis 9, where Noah got drunk and naked. One of Noah’s sons sinned against his father in connection with this incident, and consequently received God’s curse on his life. Abraham’s nephew, Lot, committed incest with his daughters while in a drunken fog (Genesis 19), and Nabal, whose name means “fool,” was described in 1 Samuel 25:36 as being “very drunk.” Not long after, “the LORD struck Nabal and he died” (25:38).

Despite these awful examples, the question still remains: does the Bible condemn drinking in moderation, provided you don’t get hammered?

One often cited passage in support of drinking is the account of how Christ turned water into wine at the marriage feast in Cana of Galilee (John 2:1-11). Some have assumed that, considering the evaluation of the banquet master in verse 10 (“you have saved the best till now”), Jesus must have turned that water into the first-century equivalent of Dom Perignon.

But those who do make this assumption are guilty of interpreting Scripture through a 21st century lens. While some modern wine enthusiasts may prefer the hard stuff, there is no reason to assume that the wedding guests in Cana would have agreed. Respected Bible commentator Albert Barnes cites several examples of respected ancient writers who equate “good” wine with that which was “innocent,” or had little intoxicating power.

Furthermore, it should be noted that oinos, the Greek word scholars most commonly translated as “wine” in the New Testament, including in John 2, includes every sort of wine, both fresh and fermented. The context of the chapter does not reveal which meaning is intended.

There are other New Testament passages where early Christians drank oinos, and in some cases it is very probable that the word signifies wine with a certain degree of, shall we say, potency. After all, we are discussing a historical period in which modern methods of preservation and refrigeration were unknown. It also should be noted that the Biblical narrative plays out mostly in a Mediterranean climate, where days can be quite warm. Leave fruit juice sitting around too long, and a little fermentation is bound to take place.

The people of Christ’s day weren’t stupid, however. They understood how the fermentation process works, and they had a remedy: the International Standard Bible Encyclopedia says societies influenced by Greek culture (included first-century Palestine) had a practice of diluting fermented wine with water to eliminate its intoxicating effects.

This diluted wine was included in the celebration of the Jewish feast of Passover. Ungers Bible Dictionary says that during Passover, “water was also mixed with wine, because it was considered too strong to be drunk alone.” Ungers cites one Jewish source as instructing, “The cup of blessing is not to be blessed, until it is mixed with water.”

Jesus and His disciples celebrated the Passover, and Christ eventually transformed the feast into the Christian observance of communion, which recalls His broken body and shed blood to atone for the sins of the world. Ungers notes that, as with the celebration of Passover, “in the early Christian church it was usual to mix the sacramental wine with water.” Paul rebuked Corinthian believers who apparently failed to mix enough water with their wine, and were using the communion celebration as an excuse to get drunk (1 Corinthians 11:21).

Some modern-day believers with a conservative bent might be appalled by the notion that Christ or His followers drank any beverage that might have been even slightly alcoholic. But they too are viewing the first-century with a modern mindset.

In the modern world – at least in the West – if you are thirsty, all you have to do is turn on the tap at the kitchen sink and you have access to a practically endless supply of cold, fresh water. Our grocery store shelves overflow with an abundant variety of non-alcoholic drinks. Most of us never will encounter the need to drink anything questionable.

In days of antiquity, this was not the case. A clean, fresh water supply was a valuable resource that was not always readily available. The International Standard Bible Encyclopedia notes that some areas of Palestine had to rely on cisterns to collect rainfall. During hot, dry periods, these cisterns would become “so stagnant and filthy that it is not fit to drink.” That left first-century Jews with two beverage choices: water that was a bit iffy, and oinos. It’s not hard to imagine them choosing the latter.

Considering the possibility that early Christians may have consumed alcoholic beverages prompts the question, “Is it okay for 21st century Western believers to add a six-pack to the grocery list?”

If He walked the streets of North America in bodily form today, it is difficult for me to imagine Jesus swinging by the liquor store on His way home from the carpenter shop. For starters, in American culture, drinking and drunkenness are Siamese twins. The vast majority of Americans drinkers are tipping them back for one purpose: they want to get slammed. All those people crowding around the bar on Friday night aren’t there because they love the taste. Country singer Toby Keith expressed their agenda when he sang, “Get Drunk and Be Somebody.”

The bottom line: drinking booze is, for all practical purposes, completely unnecessary in North America. There are plenty of other options with which to hydrate ourselves. Choosing to drink alcohol is the equivalent of playing with fire. Do it long enough, and you’re bound to get burned.

“Refrain from drink which is the source of all evil, and the ruin of half the workmen in this Country…” George Washington

Ride that roller coaster

logo.jpgThe year was 1987, and I was just beginning the 5th grade when I visited Six Flags St. Louis for the first time. It was a family trip, with my mom, dad, brother, and several aunts and cousins going along.

Prior to this day, I had been to a few carnivals and town fairs and ridden the Ferris Wheel, spinning saucers and other ubiqitous amusements found all over America on the 4th of July or Labor Day. But this was my first trip to a bona fide amusement park, with real roller coasters and rides that were too big to move once the weekend was over.

When we entered the park, the first ride we encountered was a roller coaster known as the Jet Scream. As I recall, the Jet Scream began with a precipitous climb, followed by a lightning fast plunge, giving the cars enough speed to complete one full loop. There wasn’t really much more than that, as I recall. I doubt the entire trip lasted much more than 30 seconds. Compared to many of the roller coasters offered at Six Flags today, the Jet Scream was nothing special.

Jet Scream.jpg

The Jet Scream, Six Flags St. Louis

As we climbed into one of the cars, my dad draped his arm around my younger brother’s neck. One of the attendants came by and asked him to remove it, warning, “You could break his neck once this ride gets going.” That was our first sign we were in for an experience.

For a kid who had never been on anything faster than the Heart Flip at the town festival, the Jet Scream was 30 seconds of pure terror. My heart plunged along with the coaster, and we were viciously hurled through the loop and out the other side.

And just like that, it was over. I climbed out of the car, legs trembling, half-sick and scared witless. In that moment, I reached an important conclusion: I hated roller coasters.

For the rest of the day, I did my best to avoid a repeat performance. While everyone else rode the Screaming Eagle, Six Flags’ signature coaster, my feet remained planted on the terra firma. I had learned my lesson and didn’t need another.

Sometime later, my family and some friends made another trip to Six Flags. I went along, but managed to avoid climbing on anything that looked even slightly titillating. Suffice it to say it was a rather boring day.

After that, I managed to avoid Six Flags altogether. Schoolmates, friends and family members made annual treks, sometimes offering to take me along. But the answer was always no. I was content to keep my distance.

Then, in 2002, it happened. I was the brand new youth pastor at Calvary Tabernacle in Quincy, and the church youth group had a tradition: every summer, they took a trip to Six Flags.

I was now 24 and leading a group of 12-18 year olds. And if there was one thing I was determined not to do, it was look weak in front of my flock. I scheduled that Six Flags trip and braced myself for the Day of Reckoning. I was determined to endure a day of roller coaster rides even if it killed me.

When the Big Day arrived and we walked through the gates of the park, my old nemesis, the Jet Scream, was gone. In it’s place was a metal monstrosity designed to be twice as frightening: Batman: The Ride.

I could attempt to describe Batman: The Ride to you, but instead, I offer this line from a Wikipedia article about the coaster:

Numerous guests often complain about headaches, dizziness, and nausea after riding Batman due to intense G-forces on the ride, especially in the portion of track including the wingovers, after the second loop.

Needless to say, Batman: The Ride made the Jet Scream look like child’s play. But I was determined. I clenched my jaw, waited in line, and climbed aboard.

And we were off. The motor began pulling the cars towards the pinnacle of the track, preparing for the inevitable descent the provided the momentum to complete the rest of the ride. I could feel my chest tightening with every second that passed.

But somewhere along the trip, a strange sensation crept through my body. I actually was beginning to feel more excitement and adrenaline than fear. And by the time Batman: The Ride reached its final destination and I disembarked, I had reached a conclusion.

I loved roller coasters.

I spent the rest of the day riding every coaster in the park, including the gravity-defying Mr. Freeze. I barely touched any other type of ride, and didn’t take even a single trip down Thunder River, one of my childhood favorites. I did squeeze in a trip on the Highland Fling, a demented Ferris Wheel-type device that spins the rider upside down. I had been too scared to even get close to the Highland Fling as a kid, but now, in my newfound lust for an ever-greater adrenaline rush, I found it a little monotonous. I even rode the Screaming Eagle, which also seemed a little dull compared to some of the newer offerings.

I discovered something else that day, too, that was far more important than the thrill of a roller coaster. I was reminded that life’s greatest rewards usually come when we push past our fears and take a risk.

As humans, we’re usually content to stay in our safety zone. We do everything in our power to avoid anything that makes us uncomfortable. And in doing so, we miss opportunites to enjoy  new and exciting experiences. We miss opportunities to grow.

In 2010, I encourage you to step out and do the thing that scares you to death. Take a risk. Go on an adventure. Do something radical.

Ride the roller coasters.