Rejection at the vending machine

... some of the time

Vending machines have come a long way since I was a kid.  It used to be you slid in a couple of coins and pulled a lever and down would drop your snack or drink.  Now there are lights, levers, cranes, codes, and chutes that make the purchase a production of its own.  It's almost worth the price of the product to see the delivery!  But one of the greatest advances in vending machine technology was the ability of the machine to accept bills rather than just coins.  Especially as prices increased, it came as a relief not having to search the car seats for that extra quarter - now you just slide in a dollar bill or two and you're ready to snack.  That is unless your dollar bill is rejected!

What a terrible feeling.  You watch your dollar get sucked into the machine and then it spits it back at you.  You check the little picture to make sure George's head is facing the right way and try again.  If you're rejected again you do that little ritual that you saw some other guy do - you take the bill and rub it on a corner trying to take out any possible crease in the bill.  You unfold any turned-up corners and hope you're bill is good enough.  If you still find your bill rejected you're now ready to take the machine on - that's why they put those machines behind metal bars!!  "What's the deal," you think.  A dollar is a dollar, after all, whether it's fresh out of the mint or if it's been folded, wadded, washed and taped.  Why should this machine accept a good looking bill but reject an old, worn out one?  A clean, fresh bill is of no more value than a worn-out one.

As much as we don’t want to admit it, we are so much like those dastardly vending machines.  We tend to be more accepting of people who have it all together and tend to be less-than-accepting of people who have been folded, wadded, washed, and taped.  People who have been through the ringer often find themselves spit out by many of us who prefer to accept only the pristine.

The New Testament author James wrote to Christians and shuddered at the fact that followers of Christ could exhibit such preferential behavior.  He imagines a scene were two people come into church, one wearing fine clothes and one wearing not-so-fine.  The one in mint condition is escorted to the front of the assembly while the other is sent off to the cheap seats. He sums up his argument by saying, "My dear brothers and sisters, as believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ, never think some people are more important than others."

This type of behavior is so contrary to Christians because it is so contrary to Christ.  Dollar bills of all kinds who had been repeatedly spit out by others found themselves welcome and accepted by Christ.  Jesus was able to recognize the inherent value of every human being as he looked beyond the scars and wear so visible and so despised by others.  A human being is a human being, after all, whether they're fresh out of the mint or if they've been folded, wadded, washed, and taped.  Jesus received us all!

He modeled it, he taught it, let's do it!

Let down by Noah

This is me running from the theater after seeing Noah!

There was a boat, animals, and lots of rain.  Beyond that don’t expect much resemblance between the film Noah and the biblical story.  I was super-hyped when I heard Noah was coming to the big screen, especially in light of the cast and the prospect of what special effects could make of this story, but boy was I disappointed!  I'm trying not to judge the movie just because it is so off base from the Bible and I feel like I am being honest when I say, "I just didn't like the story!"  The characters didn't capture me, the special effects were under-whelming, and the rock-creatures were disturbing.  I didn’t even like Noah.  That's how bad this movie is - you don’t even like the hero!  I didn't like anyone in the movie.  At least they could have thrown in a talking emu or something.

Certainly there was a truth or two told in the tale, but you can find the same truths in a good Disney movie AND leave humming a few tunes.  I can't even comment on the score.  There must have been one, but I don’t even remember being impressed with that!  This movie stunk as bad as the ark must have - but, wait, this ark didn’t stink because all the animals were in a drug induced coma during the flood.  But the movie still did!

And Methuselah - what's was up with that?  He lives in a cave.  By himself.   He's almost a millennium old and there's no one to take care of him. Shouldn't a guy that old have at least a few grandchildren with a conscience? The last we see of him he's rummaging for a berry.  He talks about berries more than anything.  All the man wants after 900 years of life is a good, juicy berry.  He finally finds one and at the same moment is bowled over by a wall of water.  It looked like something from a Saturday Night Live sketch.  Ridiculous!

There's one stretch of the movie that's a string of wild-life shots celebrating the animal kingdom, but that looks like someone invaded the archives of Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom and spliced in the scenes.  Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom - now that was a good show.   That Perkins guy would have made a better Noah.  Anyway, that footage is so out of place.  Like someone said, "Anyone got some good lion footage?  Let's put it in here.  Who cares if the filmography matches."  Maybe this is some film technique that I'm just ignorant of - could be!

I did kind of like the creation story Noah tells and the shot of planet earth engulfed by hurricanes.  Pretty cool but hardly enough to redeem this clunker of a movie.  It just didn't work for me.

I left feeling used.  I felt duped.  Like someone thought if you throw a biblical hero's name on a movie Christians like me would flock to the theaters like the animals flocked to the ark.  I did and I felt like jumping ship!

My only hope for this movie is people will watch it and say to themselves, "This can’t possibly be in the Bible," and then pick up one and read the story for themselves and perhaps read a little more.   I can hope, can't I?

Recalculating

I've always loved maps and directions.  As a child I would be navigator on our summer road trips.  I'd be all settled in the back seat of our station-wagon with those old fold out maps monitoring our progress and predicting arrival times.  Maps make me happy; they give me joy.  There's a certain pleasure calculating the number of miles before the next exit and then, right on schedule, seeing the sign appear around the bend in the road.  Having a trustworthy guide brings me a confidence and peace that produces joy.

I have come to treasure the Bible in much the same way that I treasure maps.  My experience is that when I trust God's word and stick to the plan then the map proves to be true and gets me to the specified destination.  There may be times when I encounter annoying traffic or an unexpected detour and even get slowed down by an accident, but I have learned that the map is accurate and can be trusted. 

One problem I do experience is that sometimes maps and the Bible can be confusing, even to the most trained and skilled navigator.   Sometimes I just get lost in all those tiny signs and numbers.  There's the occasional road that goes by more than one name.  From time to time I confuse north with east or west with south.   It can get tricky!   In addition to being confusing, there are so many distractions on this journey that cause me to take my eye off the directions and before I know it nothing looks familiar.   Every now and then I get lost in the scenery or my mind just wanders away and when I regain focus that dreaded sense of being off course sets in.  As careful as we are we sometimes get lost.

I really get annoyed when I get lost.  It's an unnecessary waste of time.  I especially get annoyed when I'm leading others.  It's a blow to my ego.  What must they be thinking of me?  But we all do it, don’t we?  We make a wrong turn.  We read the map wrong.  We lose focus and drive past the exit.  On one road trip I actually found myself going south on an interstate when I was supposed to be going north.  It took me 10-15 minutes before I figured it out!  That was annoying!

I love the GPS's we have today, and one thing I love about them is that when you make a wrong turn you get this helpful yet humbling message - recalculating.  I think it is amazing that something up there in the sky can see I've made a wrong turn and so quickly get me back on the right road.  It gives me relief to know that not all is lost; knowing that the wrong turn is correctable.  I've wasted some time, but the destination is still in my sites.

The Bible itself acknowledges that we all make wrong turns and we do make our journey a little more complicated when we do, but there is always hope.  God has an amazing knack of getting us back on the right track.  He doesn’t give up on us.  He doesn’t send us down dead-end roads.   God is a God who recalculates for us and, with a little effort, we can find ourselves back on track.

We're all headed somewhere, and I'm glad to know there's a map-maker out there who not only guides me to my destination but also has the patience to recalculate for me when I get lost.  Having a trustworthy guide brings me a confidence and peace that produces joy.

Richard Sherman after all the buzz

After the NFC conference championship game Richard Sherman, the outspoken defensive back for the Seahawks, was all the rage.  His end-of-the game antics and his postgame interview went viral.  I must admit I had pegged him for a thug, just another example of an ego-inflated athlete with no regard for sportsmanship.  For the most part, it was a mess of his own making, but our collective reaction reveals some of our flaws as well.  Here's a few things I take from the hype:

1.  People will judge you for even momentary lapses in judgment.  If after the NFC post game fiasco Sherman game to me for advice I would remind him that regardless of what kind of person you are people will judge you  based on isolated events.  That is not fair, but it is true.  I would tell him, and I remind myself, that people will take things out of context;  they will judge you not necessarily on your body of work but on those momentary lapses of judgment.  We can’t control people's reactions, but we can control our actions.  Try not to give people fodder to speak poorly of you.  Take Paul's advice in Ephesians 5:15, "Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise."

2.  Before rushing to judgment, make sure you know the whole story.  As Richard Sherman's story started to unfold an image much in contrast to the ranting athlete began to unravel.  Sherman's a good guy from a rough neighborhood.  He was a good student and he is a good teammate.  It became apparent that our judgments may have been as off target as a Peyton Manning pass in the Super Bowl.  As much as we want to make a judgment based on isolated events, take the time to know the person.  So often people react uncharacteristically when under pressure or in the heat of the moment, and that appears to be the case with Sherman.  This is one reason why Jesus said, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged" (Matt. 7:1)

3.  Do what you can to change people's perceptions.  After the Super Bowl Sherman made it a point to go over to Bronco quarterback Peyton Manning to offer his congratulations for a great season.  He didn't have to do that; he may not have even wanted to do that.  It appears to me that Sherman wanted to shed that image he had inadvertently created two weeks before.  When we dig ourselves into a hole it is our job to get ourselves out, and we can do that by going out of our way to change the mistaken image we have created.  It is often easier to stew with resentment and wait for the other person to make the first move to reconciliation.  Take responsibility for your actions and do something to restore your reputation.

It was quite a few weeks for the Seahawk defensive star, but it turned out well.  I actually found myself liking this kid and was impressed how he was able to convert me into his fan.  People make mistakes, but Sherman's story teaches us that mistakes don’t have to have the final word!

Peanut Butter Theology

I don’t like peanut butter.  Some people get very upset when I tell them that.  It’s nothing personal.  It's not a character flaw.  I just don’t like it.  I don’t even like the smell of it.  My mother told me I ate a lot of peanut butter when I was young, so maybe I just reached my limit.   My two daughters, however, do like peanut butter and that caused a bit of a problem.

When they were elementary school age I would on occasion make their lunches and one of their favorites was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I dutifully made their sandwiches making sure that I would use the knife first in the jelly, which I like, so that there would be no peanut butter residue in the jelly jar.  I abhorred (that may be a little strong, but you know the feeling) when I would put jelly on my toast and detect that faint but distinct taste of peanut butter that was a result of some careless peanut butter lover contaminating my jelly with a peanut-butter-infected knife.  I was not going to let that happen on my watch!  Anyway, I would make their sandwiches and send the little darlings off to school knowing that come lunch time they would enjoy their sandwiches and give thanks to God above for their devoted father who so lovingly prepared their lunch.

One day one of my daughters said she needed to talk to me about their lunches, in particular about their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  I was prepared to hear my praises sung as the world's greatest PB&J maker when I was shocked to hear her complaint.   Apparently I had been going a bit overboard with the jelly and skimping on the peanut butter.  Jelly was oozing out the sandwich drowning out the taste of the peanut butter.  That, of course, was my intention!    My rationale was the more jelly the better.  I loved jelly and shouldn't everyone else.  I was thinking that in order to offset the nastiness of peanut butter one needed as much jelly as two pieces of bread could possibly hold.  I was giving her what I liked, not what she liked.  I was being influenced by my preferences and oblivious to hers.  Her simple and reasonable request was less jelly and more peanut butter.

At the end of my freshman year in college I began dating a girl.  During the summer we exchanged letters and it was her custom to end each letter with a scripture, not the whole scripture but just the reference.  One of her letters ended with Philippians 2:3, 4.  I eagerly opened my Bible anticipating that this was some verse in the Bible extolling some virtue she had seen in me (by this time you probably see I suffer from delusions of grandeur, both as a father and a boyfriend)  only to find these words:  Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.

It hit me that day that I often, if not always, look out for my interests above the interests of others.  The same feeling hit me that day when my daughter asked me for more peanut butter and less jelly.   So often I impose on others my likes, my preferences, my desires rather than consider their likes, their preference, their desires.

I don’t understand how anyone can like peanut butter, but this little encounter with my school-aged daughter taught me that in order to be a good PB&J maker, or for that matter in order to be a good father or a good husband or a good friend, I need to sometimes get past that terrible smell and spread on the peanut butter good and thick!