Where's the Line?

"In your anger do not sin," The Apostle Paul told first century Christians in Ephesus. The Apostle Peter said that a woman's beauty "should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight."

I agree with both wise men.

Yet Jesus got angry when warranted while, of course, not sinning. He was not a passive man. Peter and Paul were not passive Christ followers, either. One example of Jesus' righteous anger is told by the Apostle John. He told of Jesus' anger at those doing commerce in the Temple -- men taking advantage of the sacred space for personal gain. John reported: "So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple area, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables."

Point made.


So yesterday, I had an angry moment and acted upon it. I'm interested in your thoughts about my behavior.

Brad, the boys, and I were at the Illini football game in Champaign. My alma mater was winning. All was well. Then, it became clear we had three fans from Purdue (Illinois' opponent) sitting three rows behind us who were becoming increasingly verbal and obnoxious. A few weeks earlier we had been at a Bear's game in Chicago with loud and annoying fans behind us. But in Chicago, the extent of the tirade could be characterized as redundantly "cranky." No swearing; just the comments of wanna-be athletes who could have and would have done everything right if on the field.

But in Champaign yesterday, the verbal assault escalated from nasty comments about my team and the refs to a loud proclamation of how Illini players must have performed sex acts (described) to buy off the refs. I heard it once, and boiled. Still, I sat still and prayed. Then, one of them said it again. And whether empowered by the Holy Spirit or just over my edge, I stood to my feet and took 'em all on -- loudly.

I yelled, "That's it! You are done. One more vulgar word and security will be here to take all of you out. You can cheer all you want for your team. You can cheer all you want against mine. But you will not continue to swear and be vulgar. I have children here and I will not stand for it. What's it gonna be?"

As bullies do, they blamed each other and claimed to have not said what they said. Very unbecoming for young men who fancied themselves so cool.

Other fans in our section applauded. Bravos and high-fives followed.

I felt weirdly rattled. It certainly wasn't a gentle word to those Purdue fans -- but was it an unloving or sinful rebuke? I don't think so, but I was suddenly questioning myself. As God's representative, was I appropriate? The boys were impressed, but we talked a lot about the difference between being annoyed and being assaulted by someone's language or actions.

The fact is, they stopped the vile spew. They were still annoying, but within acceptable football behavior.

I don't want to be "the sheriff," but I will stand for what's right and that means confronting what's not.

I'm sure there is a range of opinions on this one -- and I'd love to hear yours.

Realist or Defeatist?

I am a firm believer that facing reality as objectively as humanly possible is a good thing. I believe in seeking and accepting truth, regardless of how I feel about it. That "bent" makes me a fierce defender of God's Word as Truth. It can also cause me to sometimes prepare for the worst in a way that limits hope for the best.

I'm a realist. So when my 11-year-old spaniel, Calli, was diagnosed as having significant changes in her liver consistent with cancer, I immediately braced for the inevitable.

If you've followed this blog, you know I have numerous friends who have fought or are fighting courageous battles with cancer. I hate cancer. I mean I really hate it. Add to that the fact that I've had to euthanize four canine family members in the last nine years, and you might see why I simply resigned myself to enduring another loss. My realism helps me cope, but it doesn't always leave room for the hope that is so vital for understanding that God's in charge.

Calli had a biopsy a week ago today. Yesterday, the Vet called and left a message for me that the test results were back. I put off returning the call until I couldn't stand it anymore.

"I have good news," were the first words out of his mouth. "There is no cancer. She has a form of hepatitis that needs intensive antibiotic treatment. But if she responds, she can fully recover. In fact, the tests show that the liver is starting to regenerate itself."

Wow.

I hadn't left open the possibility for good news in my brain or heart.

As I celebrated Calli's good news, it hit me that in what is a good quest to face reality, I need to leave open the possibility of surprise.

My professor and friend Bob always says, "God's grace never ceases to surprise or sustain." He's right. I won't have Calli forever. And the fact is that she's been the most high maintenance, neurotic dog I've ever encountered. But God is using her to teach me...and for that I am grateful, and increasingly hopeful.