We are what we eat.

Orange you glad I didn't say banana.

Cool picture. Bad Joke. On a more serious note. I haven't been able to get this verse out of my brain.

"Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him."

-Psalm 34:8

I love this verse, because it sums up the invitation that God has extended to all of humanity. The Psalmist understands that we are what we eat; we are invited to fill ourselves up with the substance of God. A substance which results in observable good. It tastes good, it is good, it produces good.

We see more of God's goodness when we let him in. Simple right?

How do we believe we've got it right?

The Dilemma:

We have this problem. While it bears down on us violently, destructively, we sit and stare into its face completely unaware of the immanent danger. This is our dilemma: belief, faith, conviction.

What exactly do we believe? Is it correct? How do we know?

We all believe in something. All of our actions are results of how we understand the world. Each decision we make is connected to what we believe is true. And it is here that we often get tripped up, because we can believe in what is false.

This is dangerous for two reasons. First, we are in danger because on some level faith is blind. No matter how many facts we have, no matter how sound our reasoning the question remains, ‘how do I respond to these certainties?’ Faith and belief aren’t ultimately about having the correct answers. Faith and belief, our deep convictions, are our motive makers. They are the determinants of what we actually do. The danger is this: our belief concretely leads us into our present situation, and we could be wrong.


The second reason we are in danger rests in the reality that belief effects every moment of every day and this is something we don’t realize. We all see it occasionally. We hear things like, “this is definitely the fastest way!” Ten minutes later you’re glaring at your friend because traffic is stuck, its 90 degrees and the vents in your car are pumping lukewarm air into your sweating face. We hear things like, “but deep down he’s a really good guy!” all the while her face is painted purple and blue. Or perhaps over coffee you say to a friend, “he doesn’t know anything! What a fool!” all the while you’re depressed, lonely and at a loss for words. At times we notice the relationship between belief and action; most commonly when we see someone act on a false belief. We often don’t recognize that what we think/believe about the world, true or false, dictates our next action.

So often our beliefs lead us into uncomfortable prisons. If only we could see where our faith leads us we might avoid entering the cell door. How can we be sure we aren’t blind? How exactly do we go about believing that we’ve got it right?

Lost Glory and Profound Grace

This Wednesday night we were given a spectacular picture of grace. Now don’t lose me just because this is a baseball story.

Perfect games are a pitchers Holy Grail. They are unbelievably rare. Not only does a pitcher need to keep the other team from scoring, but he must keep any opposing player from ever reaching a base. The MLB as we know it has been around for nearly 110 years, and in that long history only 20 players have ever pitched perfect games.

Armando Galarraga was one out away from a perfect game on Wednesday night when the first base umpire missed a call that shattered Galarraga’s efforts. The instant replay revealed the call utterly blown. (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/06/02/armando-galarraga-perfect_n_598626.html)

He was one out away from the HOLY GRAIL OF PITCHING! Armando Galarraga’s whole team verbally assaulted the umpire after the game. A moment of potential history was transformed by a simple mistake into a war zone. One in which an umpire was very close to getting beaten.

The person most affected by this mistake, however, responded with grace. Immediately following the call Armando simply smiles and returns to the mound.

The umpire admitted after the game that he had biffed the call. His words were, “It was the biggest call of my career. I don’t blame them a bit for anything that was said. I would have said it myself if I had been Galarraga. I would’ve been the first person in my face, and he never said a word to me.”

With as much grace as I’ve seen in a sports locker room Galarraga said, “Nobody is perfect, everybody’s human, everybody does the wrong stuff, makes the wrong decisions. I give that guy [the umpire] a lot of credit for coming and apologizing.”

I love this picture of grace. He doesn’t blame the man who is obviously responsible. He doesn’t blame him while everyone else is. More significantly he points out something profoundly good about the umpire who failed! I love that he takes this temporary loss of glory and responds with grace. It’s heroic, and it’s powerful.

Grace takes tragedy and pulls it out of the mud; it places everyone who has fallen in the situation somewhere more holy.

The craziest thing about this story is that it could be my story. I’ve noticed in the last few weeks that I’ve been in Armando Galarraga’s shoes (on smaller scales) but my response has often been to push the umpire(s) back down into the mud. I still feel the tragedy, and I wish that I had the courage to smile and walk back to the place that I had built my argument.

If I had walked back to my pitchers mound perhaps those who had drawn easily debunked conclusions might have listened and in listening stepped out of the mud to find grace.

Instead I got to role around in the mud with them. I wish that I had better facilitated the distribution of grace these last few weeks.

Sometimes walking back to the mound means losing the glory; losing the affirmation that you were right. To give up glory in this way offers everyone the oppurtunity to step out of the tragedy. Ironically making the moment more glorious than ever.