PreacherMike

“Eating responsibly at McDonald’s is like going to a strip club for the iced tea.” That’s from Roger Ebert’s review of Morgan Spurlock’s film “Super Size Me.”

You know the story line by now. Spurlock conducted an “experiment” (with cameras rolling, of course). He ate three squares a day for a month–with every meal at McDonald’s. He never ordered the Super Size unless he was asked.

At the end of the month, his weight was up thirty pounds. His blood pressure was highly elevated, and his cholesterol spiked 65 points. In addition, he had symptoms of toxic shock to his liver. Not exactly the kind of publicity a company hopes for.

We’re in the low-carb craze right now. It will pass, as did the low-fat craze. Eventually the pendulum will come back to the middle and health-conscious people will shoot for the basics: better carbs, better fat, modest portions, guacamole, and regular exercise. It isn’t rocket science.

Once again, though, I think we should recognize that all the health stuff can become almost idolatrous. That’s not to discourage anyone who is enjoying a new burst of healthier living. But it’s easier to put a tape measure around the bust or waist than around the heart.

What if our real obsession was spiritual transformation . . . spiritual health? Isn’t it easy for us to become really lazy there–devouring snack foods loaded with fat, sugar, and salt?

These old words from one of the Pastoral Epistles still have an important claim to make on our lives: “Train yourself to be godly, for physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come” (1 Tim. 4:7f).

Now here’s the difficult part. I’m 47. And when I was younger I imagined that I would be further along the road of spiritual formation by now than I am. I’ve run in marathons, eaten right (at times), and kept my weight down.

But, I really thought I would be more developed spiritually by now–a person in whom love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control were the default settings. I imagined 20 years ago that by now I’d be a praying fool.

47 apparently isn’t the magic age for me. Maybe it’s 48 . . . .

The five hottest teams in baseball are all teams I like: the Angels (go, John!), the Rangers, the Astros, Baack’s and Half Moon.

Baack’s and Half Moon? Oh yeah, baby. The big games are tomorrow night. We’re both 6-0. We start by finishing the previous game that ended in a tie, when lightning rolled in after six innings. (You may recall that that was a blessed storm for our team!) Then immediately after that game is finished, we turn around and play again.

It’s dumb, I know. I’m 47, and I still love it so much. I love being an influence with the boys. I love the smell of leather gloves, the ping on a well-hit line drive, the taste of ballpark hamburgers (the Key City head “chef” knows how to grill onions and jalapenos to plop on top of mine!), and the free drink or snowcone that comes at the end whether you win or lose.

Two years ago my team won a lot and went to the city tournament. Last year we were the cellar dwellers. This year, we’re winning again.

But it doesn’t really matter, does it? Aren’t there more important things to teach kids than how to hit a curve and how to turn a double play? The lessons of character–taught and modeled by the coaches and parents–are lasting. For better . . . or for worse.

Who can understand the mind of a terrorist–especially one who has decided that his terrorism is a favor to God?

Some terrorists bomb and behead. Those are the ones we hear most about.

But there are other terrorists who seek to destroy reputations, who are masters of cut-and-paste gossip, who major in minors — and who think they’re doing God a huge favor.

They’re going to save the church. Save the brotherhood. Save the Christian university. So they shoot poisonous e-mails. They create websites. They castigate and warn. They sign petitions. They rally the forces. They undermine reputations.

The Pastoral Epistles (1 and 2 Timothy and Titus) have some interesting thoughts on measuring such people. Those thoughts center on “healthy teaching” (translated “sound doctrine” in older versions), which is gospel-formed teaching that produces gospel-formed lives.

With such people, it can be enlightening to learn from their children and grandchildren what life at home was like. Instead of “healthy teaching,” it is often a kind of teaching that “spreads like gangrene” (2 Tim. 2:17). Often their kids had to suffer under their explosive anger, their hypocrisy, and their twisted thinking.

The amazing thing is that fairly reasonable people listen to them! Sometimes, they’ll listen over a cup of coffee and come away saying, “You know, he seems like a nice guy.”

Everyone is a nice guy over a cup of coffee! (Especially if you bought the coffee.)

Spiritual terrorists need to be muffled and ignored. They need to be prayed for. But they cannot help chart the future course of kingdom-minded churches and universities!

I’m trying to imagine a better recruiting tool for terrorists than the photos from the prison in Iraq. An angry young Moslem male is teetering on what to do with his anger and resentment. Then he sees this: the conquerors humiliating fellow Moslems with acts that are inhumane and obscene.

It validates everything that he supposes, doesn’t it?

Is it possible that what these soldiers have done will do more to recruit terrorists than anything that’s ever happened before? Osama couldn’t have imagined better free publicity.

It’s a reminder that our hope is not in the governments and armies of humans; it is rather in the kingdom of God that continues to break through by the Risen One.