College was a foundational time in my life. I was confident going into college that truth is knowable, understandable and discoverable. I was excited to get down to the business of discovering the truth. I had no idea where I would find this Truth, but it seemed apparent to me that Truth was something I could grasp. Continue reading “Why the Bible?”
The Good Friday Way
Jesus died today. While he still lived, he said, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. ” (Luke 9:21) He left little room for misunderstanding when he proceeded to demonstrate by his very life what he meant.
We cling to life. We cling to our thoughts, our ambitions, our pleasures, our habits, our selfishness. The way that Jesus showed goes against the grain of me and my life. He is “not a tame lion” as C.S. Lewis once said. He gave all of himself, and he requests all of me.
“For whoever will save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it.” (Luke 9:12) He promises us life for life. Again, he did not just say it; he lived it. He did not avoid his destiny; he knew where he was heading, and he knew what he was doing. He walked purposefully on the road to his certain death, and he did not turn from it.
On the third day he rose again. Death could not hold him in the grave. He overcame sin and death and promises the same thing to us. Only we must let go of ourselves.
“What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, and yet to lose or forfeit their very self?” (Luke 9:13) I recently heard someone say (and I paraphrase): men who believe in God have hope; men who do not believe in God only have hope that there really is no God. If I am wrong in my belief in God, what have I lost? Death comes to us all. We can not take anything with us when we go.
Why then do we cling so tightly to the selfish and small lives that we live?
Jesus showed a different way. He endured the cross for the joy set before him. He promised, “Where I go, I will prepare a place for you.” We have reason for the hope we have because three days later the tomb was empty. Jesus appeared to the disciples in glory and promised them the Holy Spirit before he ascended into heaven. On the day of Pentecost, the Holy Spirit came upon them and empowered them. The Gospel has spread to the ends of the earth. We wait for the fulfillment of the promises of God when Jesus comes again. While scientists would rather believe that the world as we know it was brought to us by aliens, I am not ashamed to say that I believe in God, who created the heavens and the earth and all that is seen and unseen, who stooped to become a part of His creation in the form of a man, Jesus, who lived among us and showed us the way to gain relationship with Himself, and who leaves us the power to follow in that way in the form of the Holy Spirit.
Jesus died today. If we want what He has to give us, we must do as He did.
The Weight of Glory
We cling to what we have and cling to life, life as we know it. But, what if this life was the shadow? What if the real thing was some other place? What if we are presently living in a dream like world, a hazy, confusing not quite clear place in which the things we see and experience are out of focus and a bit out of touch with reality?
I recently listened to the story of a man who had a near death experience. His description matches others that I have heard. He said that what he experienced was more real than this life that we know.
C.S. Lewis in his fanciful book, the “Great Divorce”, described the approach to heaven (not even heaven itself) in similar fashion. Among other things, he described the grass as being so much more real than the recent travelers there from this life that it would not yield under their feet. The travelers to the approach to heaven were shadowlike, wispy and all but transparent; while the beings at approach to heaven were sharp and bold to the eye, of unmistakably solid make up.
What is this life was the dream world and awakening from the slumber of death would bring us to a world more real than we could ever have imagined?
“For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:17-18
Olympic Medals and Greater Things

My last blog past came right after the IOC announced its recommendation to drop wrestling from the Olympics. I have been a fan of wrestling since I watched Dan Gable, Wayne Wells, and that legendary group of US wrestlers in the 1972 Olympics, and I became a wrestler myself that same year at the age of 12. I coached my sons and others for 15 years.
The time with my own sons was an inspiring father/son journey full of ups and downs, self-sacrifice and self-discipline, and monumental moments of heart and determination overcoming great odds in victory in between moments of great defeat. They had Olympic aspirations, and one of my sons has competed for years at the Olympic level.
I and my sons have participated in the world’s oldest sport, the purest form of sport, man against man, will against will, through hundreds and thousands of grueling hours of practice, back-breaking will-breaking work, forgoing food and drink to make weight for competition. We did these things for an earthly prize, a medal or trophy and the satisfaction of knowing that “I prevailed”.
But there is another story. There is something much greater than all this.
A Long Slow Divorce
When I was a kid, I was a true sports fan. I read books from the 50’s and 60’s of improbable feats of heroism by ordinary athletes and teams. I religiously watched the Cubs, Bears and Blackhawks play on television and listened on radio. The thrill of victory and agony of defeat ran through my veins. I swung a baseball bat for hours alone perfecting my swing and pitched tennis balls endlessly against a garage or brick wall with visions of a major league career running through my head. I galloped through backyard football games with a ball tucked under my arm like the ghost of Gale Sayers, replaying in my mind each night the highlight reel of my performance. I even played makeup hockey games with any objects I could find for pucks and sticks.
My idealistic world of sports began unraveling when Wertz terminated the contract with WGN, relegating hockey to the snowy underworld of UHF TV. I was probably 9 or 10. I lost my taste for hockey and never regained it. A long, slow divorce with my love of sports had begun. Continue reading “A Long Slow Divorce”


