The Un-balancing Act
Feb 9th
The leg press. It’s simple. You add weight. You sit down. Release the lock. Press the sled up and down. That’s it.
I was at the Y the other day and there was a guy attempting to follow the above steps. Nothing out of the ordinary. The only reason I noticed him was because I wanted to use the machine. I moved on to do something else while he was adding weight.
And then I thought the building was collapsing. The sound could have definitely been compared to this same guy running his truck into the machine. I look over and see the machine laying on its side. Thankfully nobody was hurt. It turns out the guy had loaded the weights one side at a time, instead of evenly distributing the weight. He had nine 45lbs plates on one side. I don’t know how he walked away with all of his toes.
The guy meant well. Obviously you can put at least eight 45lbs on one side without catastrophe happening, he just didn’t know the 9th plate would be so embarrassing.
Balance is important. If only this guy had put one 45lbs plate on the other, then I wouldn’t be typing this story. But thanks to this mans desire to push a lot of weight I learned something. I am constantly trying to learn about God. So much that I usually only stop when I am numb from boredom. For some reason I keep pushing this info into my brain assuming it’s going to take me somewhere. But what I am realizing is that not balancing this knowledge with action is quickly causing me to become unbalanced.
Faith has always been about action. If the knowledge I gain isn’t being used in a physical sense, what good is it?
Pharisees study to sound smart. Followers of Christ study to reach others
Pharisees learn to prove a point. Followers of Christ learn to prove themselves wrong.
Another Pharisee attribute killed.
Education our most precious commodity.
Feb 8th
Is there anything more important than education? Shouldn’t we spend more money and time on the betterment of our public school systems? Don’t we offer transportation to all students who otherwise would have to walk? Do we not offer healthy breakfast and lunch plans? Are we ensuring that our teachers are the most qualified applicants?
The overall answer to these questions, would be yes except for the first one.
Education is not the most important element when it comes to our children. Nope, safety is.
Enjoy your “snow” day teachers; especially you, the teacher I sleep with.
The hunter becomes the prey…
Feb 6th
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You may have noticed that I have attempted to swap blog personalities. You know, from the blog that had my name in your URL bar to the blog in your URL bar that is now attempting to kill Pharisees. I was torn between labeling this mess the “Pharisee Killer” or the “Pharisee Hunter”. I really wanted to go with the Pharisee Hunter because I like to hunt. And I thought the title would sound proactive, as if I was out saving the world from Pharisees. As the hunter, I wanted to splash pics of myself pointing a gun and drawing my bow. I had ideas of the background either being typical camo or black like the back of a ninja. (Because that’s the only form of a ninja you see, after the silent wrath, when he’s walking away.)
Labeling someone as a Pharisee is easy.
I was raised in a fairly legalistic church lifestyle. (It’s so easy to throw out the word legalistic, inappropriately.) Khakis, coats, and ties were involved. Hymns were sung, while I flailed my arm around attempting to keep time, as I lead the worship. Every time the doors were open, I was there (Your darn tooting we were there Superbowl night.). I estimate I spent approximately 8-10 hours a week at the church. MTV, what was that? Channel 36 was blocked, but CMT wasn’t. The KJV was THE only inspired version used. I remember seeing other versions being thrown, from the pulpit onto the floor, one Sunday night. Thanks to Kurt Cobain, I guess, all we cared about when I was in youth group was sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll (I remember where I hid my Nirvana and Kid Rock CD’s). Man, life would have been much easier with iTunes.
If death is involved you have to be honest.
One thing you should know about me, I have been pointing my finger at Pharisees and labeling them as targets since I was a teenager. I began calling their bluffs at an early age. I knew what hypocrisy was and I intended to shine light on it. They were the hypocrites and I was their arch nemesis, the rebel kid. It didn’t matter that I was the kid who showed up and everyone knew, or probably were assuming, what I was doing the night before. And since I have been doing this for so long, I can spot a Pharisee, in my scope, from a mile away. But I have to be honest…I’m bitter…I’m angry…and I’m just waiting for that clean head shot. I want these people to KNOW that they are Pharisees.
But the target has changed.
This is actually were the honesty begins. That mirror is waiting on me every morning and when I look into it, I see a Pharisee. The only difference, is that this Pharisee wears t-shirts to church. This Pharisee might spend 3-4 hours a week at church activities. This Pharisee prefers the NIV. This Pharisee thinks that “old-school church” isn’t effective (Isn’t that statement an oxymoron?). This Pharisee doesn’t have a Nirvana CD but now has a 90’s rock playlist on iTunes in which Nirvana can be found. This Pharisee raises his hands. This Pharisee thinks the Charlie Hall Band was born to push the hymnals aside.
The target is now ME. The guy wearing the Converse is now the new Pharisee. The guy who believes that there is nothing wrong with drinking alcohol is now the new Pharisee. The guy with tattoos is the new Pharisee. The guy who uses buzz words like authentic, real, and community is now the new Pharisee. The guy who says he has an audience of One, is full of it and is the new Pharisee.
Stopping the Pharisee epidemic.
All Pharisees, whether they be legalistic or hip, need to repent daily. Every single day. All Pharisees must be willing to follow. And you can’t follow if you’re a Pharisee.
Luke 9:23 Then he said to them all: “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.24 For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will save it.
All believers in Christ MUST die daily.
1 Corinthians 15:31 31 I die every day–I mean that, brothers–just as surely as I glory over you in Christ Jesus our Lord.
I guess I should have named this blog the “Suicidal Pharisee” because I’m going to do my best to kill myself everyday. In essence, the hunter has become the prey…
Please say excuse me…
Feb 5th
Every time, my wife gets mad. And it is usually followed by an elbow to the ribs or that, “I’m going to kick you in the_____” look, that wives give. Husbands, you know the one. Every time. Every single time I fart. What is wrong with farting? If I din’t, the gas would just come out the other end and that would cause a smelly burp. Isn’t a smelly fart less gross than a smelly burp? My body is just doing its intended job, right?
So why do you keep telling me to say, “Excuse me.” after I fart? That makes no sense.
If I am walking down the street and I bump into somebody, I understand that I should say, excuse me. That contact could effect the rest of this persons day. They could have been thrown off course. Orange juice could have been spilled like the scene with Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant in the movie Notting Hill. In these situations an “excuse me” is rightly necessary.
But seriously, what is my fart going to do to your day? Yes, there may be an unpleasant odor. Yes, the tone and clarity of the sound made, may be unusual. But does my fart really affect you? I don’t think it does, therefore it does not deserve an “excuse me.” Think about it, my fart might last .9526 seconds, well maybe longer than that but you get the idea, they’re short no matter how you look at it. How is this quick burst of gas going to change your day?
And I got an excuse. Protein. I’m a man. I like fire. I like meat. The combination of these three create the potential for gas. Not to mention the beer, pizza, bacon, and chili sides. It’s a scientific fact. Blame God, not me.
In conclusion, unless my fart causes you to pass out, wreck a car, make you cry, induce vomiting, go into labor, cuss like a sailor, send me to etiquette school, or makes myself gag, I probably will forget to say, “Excuse me.”
Possible Pharisee Killer Theme Song?
Feb 4th
Trying to contact Christafari to see if we can’t work something out.
