Last night I had some guys over to my house for a game night. We played a game that I have appreciated since my freshman year of college. After observing how excited I was to play it last night, I have come to realize that it is my all-time favorite board game; Shadows Over Camelot.
No, it is not like Dungeons & Dragons. Essentially you play as the knights of the roundtable, all working together against the game. This may sound like a simple task, but the game fights hard and plays dirty. Winning is no small feat.
But I love this game. I love the camaraderie that it fosters. I love the opportunities it presents to teach the values and Christ-seeking character traits of the knights of the roundtable. For me the game carries memories of my freshman year in college, talking with "Mack" for hours about the knights. He taught me a lot about those subtle yet important character traits that become a man of God.
These are all important elements that combine to create my strong appreciation for this game. However, as far as the game in itself goes, the thing that I most enjoy about it is the team aspect; it truly is all against the game. We all win together, or we all lose together.
I was reading a book last fall wherein the writer presented the notion that all of our society's strongly acclaimed "healthy competition" is anything but. Before you click the back button on your browser, let me challenge you to at least think about this. Our society holds a lot of values that we have grown up with and accept because we have been taught that they are natural and good. Christ came to shake up our perceptions of "natural" and "good." He wanted to give us the opportunity to see these things as he sees them. So please, let's at least explore this idea for the sake of double-checking our preconceptions. What if this is one of those areas that has us all fooled into living a damaging lie?
What if there is no such thing as "healthy competition"?
What is the point of competition anyway? In every case one competes with the intention of either proving oneself to be the best, or perhaps merely discovering where one sits on the spectrum of ability and skill.
Jesus didn't get caught up in these games, and he shut it down when it came up among his disciples:
"An argument started among the disciples as to which of them would be the greatest. Jesus, knowing their thoughts, took a little child and had him stand beside him. Then he said to them, 'Whoever welcomes this little child in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. For he who is least among you all--he is the greatest.'" (Luke 9:46-48)
The disciples, in an attempt to at least maintain some status, try to set up an us-and-them wall:
"'Master,' said John, 'we saw a man driving out demons in your name and we tried to stop him, because he is not one of us.'"
But Jesus doesn't bite:
"'Do not stop him,' Jesus said, 'for whoever is not against you is for you.'" (Luke 9:49-50)
Whoever is not against you is for you. So why do we keep trying to turn all these friends into enemies by pitting ourselves against them? Why do we make our own superiority more important than our relationships?
And what is so great about us anyway? What good is it to prove that I am accomplished in some external area of my life? God says, "The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart" (1 Samuel 16:7). Who really cares where I fit on man's silly spectrum of accomplishment?! Not God.
Paul says, "If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself. Each one should test his own actions. Then he can take pride in himself, without comparing himself to somebody else, for each one should carry his own load" (Galatians 6:3-5). We are not called to compare ourselves to others, but to our own selves. Only then, when we have determined that we are adequate to the task that has been given to us, can we be proud. Yet, it is not a pride that stands out among others. Instead it is an inner confidence in our standing before God. It is the humbled understanding that God's guiding and steadying hand is the thing that enables us to endure the load we carry.
I don't see much encouragement in scripture for this so-called "healthy competition." Everything I see in scripture talks about setting others above yourself, serving over being served, taking pride in low positions when the world would have you think highly of yourself.
Don't get me wrong. I think it is still possible to enjoy a game that involves winners and losers. What does concern me is that those people who push so fervently for others to participate in their "healthy competition" are often the ones for whom competition is a major stumbling block. It is precisely those people who are least capable of maintaining healthy lives when in competitive atmospheres.
Think about it. Then go find some way to edify someone else instead of finding a way to dominate them. Let me know how that works for you.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Saturday, April 28, 2012
The Monster I've Become
Every monster needs an owner; someone to feed it, care for it, and raise it as his own. There are all kinds of owners, and each one will raise a different sort of monster. Suffice it to say that when making a monster the first step is to find an owner.
The next thing is to give the owner an Idea. This is where creativity and careful selection comes in. Different owners will respond to different Ideas. The most important element is that the Idea be given a label. Some owners will respond best if the Idea has a label that is simple yet strong, such as “true”, “right”, or “just.” Others will attach themselves more to Ideas labeled “fun”, “popular”, “manly”, or even “secure.” For some it is better to give them a “good” Idea, others will attend more to a “bad” Idea. If it is a truly “good” Idea, the monster will likely grow big and strong yet remain unnoticed. For the Idea is the monster (or at least the guise of the monster). As the owner feeds the Idea, the monster grows.
It matters little if anyone else does or does not see the monster. Especially if the Idea is a “good” one, others are likely to help in the feeding. Most important is that the owner sees the labels “true” and “right” whenever the Idea enters the room… at least for the time being.
Eventually the owner will begin to compare everything else with his “right” Idea; first a little foible in his boss, then some ignorance in his neighbor. He will tolerate these for some time, comforting himself in the thought that he has the “truth” and knows “right” from not.
Then one day the owner will exhibit his Idea—of moderate size by this time—to his friends. He will put it on display for them to bask in the power and beauty of his very own Idea. His friends, however, will be less than impressed. Some will laugh, some will shrug, and some will return to their discussions of caviar and Cadbury eggs. One of his friends might show an interest in the Idea, but only enough to draw the discussion to his own Idea (which has been locked up in his basement for the last three months).
The owner will become infuriated by the response of his friends. Here he has a perfectly good Idea—more than that, it is the “right” Idea—and they won’t even give it the time of day! What is to be done? How can he convince them, exhort them, set them straight? After all, he’s got the “right” Idea, and everyone should recognize it.
What the owner doesn’t realize is that over all this time, as the Idea has been fed, and tended, and grown, it has also changed. It is no longer the Idea it was in the beginning. What started out as a “good” Idea may have turned slowly and imperceptibly into a rather “bad” Idea. Or it may simply be another generally “good” Idea. Either way, the owner will think it is still the same Idea he fed from a little “thought”, and try to feed it in much the same manner as before. What’s worse, after the fiasco with his friends he will try to feed it much more in hopes that it will grow to an un-shruggable, un-laughable, un-snubbable size. With a “true” and “right” Idea that big, everyone will have to recognize it—even his incompetent neighbor.
Unfortunately, the Idea will not be pleased with this dietary strategy. Food for “thought” is not food fit for grand Ideas. It will become discontent, and demand ever more creative sources of fulfillment. The Idea will grow. That much the owner will achieve. But it will grow distorted and gnarled. It will become too big for its cage, and the owner will find it following him everywhere.
The Idea will follow him to work and chew up his boss’s desk. It will follow him to church and eat the hat off the old lady in the third pew on the left (the lady who wears far too much perfume and coughs something horrible during the climax of every sermon). It will even get into the neighbor’s yard and dig up all the tulips, and bite an ear off the neighbor’s schnauzer.
Before he knows what has happened, the owner will be carrying his destructive monster of an Idea with him everywhere. And do you know what people will think? Will they be impressed, or convinced, or even concerned? Chances are…they will not.
What is more likely is that they will recognize the monster for what it is—a very bad Idea. They will respond to it with great indifference and the subtle satisfaction of knowing that their own Idea is so much “better.”
The next thing is to give the owner an Idea. This is where creativity and careful selection comes in. Different owners will respond to different Ideas. The most important element is that the Idea be given a label. Some owners will respond best if the Idea has a label that is simple yet strong, such as “true”, “right”, or “just.” Others will attach themselves more to Ideas labeled “fun”, “popular”, “manly”, or even “secure.” For some it is better to give them a “good” Idea, others will attend more to a “bad” Idea. If it is a truly “good” Idea, the monster will likely grow big and strong yet remain unnoticed. For the Idea is the monster (or at least the guise of the monster). As the owner feeds the Idea, the monster grows.
It matters little if anyone else does or does not see the monster. Especially if the Idea is a “good” one, others are likely to help in the feeding. Most important is that the owner sees the labels “true” and “right” whenever the Idea enters the room… at least for the time being.
Eventually the owner will begin to compare everything else with his “right” Idea; first a little foible in his boss, then some ignorance in his neighbor. He will tolerate these for some time, comforting himself in the thought that he has the “truth” and knows “right” from not.
Then one day the owner will exhibit his Idea—of moderate size by this time—to his friends. He will put it on display for them to bask in the power and beauty of his very own Idea. His friends, however, will be less than impressed. Some will laugh, some will shrug, and some will return to their discussions of caviar and Cadbury eggs. One of his friends might show an interest in the Idea, but only enough to draw the discussion to his own Idea (which has been locked up in his basement for the last three months).
The owner will become infuriated by the response of his friends. Here he has a perfectly good Idea—more than that, it is the “right” Idea—and they won’t even give it the time of day! What is to be done? How can he convince them, exhort them, set them straight? After all, he’s got the “right” Idea, and everyone should recognize it.
What the owner doesn’t realize is that over all this time, as the Idea has been fed, and tended, and grown, it has also changed. It is no longer the Idea it was in the beginning. What started out as a “good” Idea may have turned slowly and imperceptibly into a rather “bad” Idea. Or it may simply be another generally “good” Idea. Either way, the owner will think it is still the same Idea he fed from a little “thought”, and try to feed it in much the same manner as before. What’s worse, after the fiasco with his friends he will try to feed it much more in hopes that it will grow to an un-shruggable, un-laughable, un-snubbable size. With a “true” and “right” Idea that big, everyone will have to recognize it—even his incompetent neighbor.
Unfortunately, the Idea will not be pleased with this dietary strategy. Food for “thought” is not food fit for grand Ideas. It will become discontent, and demand ever more creative sources of fulfillment. The Idea will grow. That much the owner will achieve. But it will grow distorted and gnarled. It will become too big for its cage, and the owner will find it following him everywhere.
The Idea will follow him to work and chew up his boss’s desk. It will follow him to church and eat the hat off the old lady in the third pew on the left (the lady who wears far too much perfume and coughs something horrible during the climax of every sermon). It will even get into the neighbor’s yard and dig up all the tulips, and bite an ear off the neighbor’s schnauzer.
Before he knows what has happened, the owner will be carrying his destructive monster of an Idea with him everywhere. And do you know what people will think? Will they be impressed, or convinced, or even concerned? Chances are…they will not.
What is more likely is that they will recognize the monster for what it is—a very bad Idea. They will respond to it with great indifference and the subtle satisfaction of knowing that their own Idea is so much “better.”
Friday, February 17, 2012
Perspective
*Journal Entry*
Perspective is an interesting concept. As I write this I am thousands of feet in the air, flying home after a wedding in California.
Looking down I see the cars inching their way along the road below. I think back to the trip I made with my friends in college. We drove all the way from Salem to Disneyland, stopping only at the house of my friend whose wedding I was in yesterday. It took so long just to cross the border into California. The scenery slipped by at a rapid pace, and although it took some time, we seemed to be moving along fast enough.
From up here I see miles upon miles of endless, curving roads. The cars zipping along down there seem to scoot through the pass at a snail's pace. Three years ago when we made that trip we were four young, ambitious college students with things we wanted to do, places we wanted to see. We were racing through college one assignment at a time (and sometimes three). The lessons, experiences, adventures, and friendships flew past as we rushed down the freeway of college life. Down on the road all we could see were the things that were important to us: relationships, grades, adventures, and making our mark on the world.
As it is, I'm not far removed from that freeway, and my perspective hasn't changed much. But as I look down on those rippling ridges and patchwork plains I can't help but think that some day I will look at the landscape of my life and realize that those speeding miles were lingering inches, and all around me was a world and a story that I could never have fathomed.
Perspective is an interesting concept. As I write this I am thousands of feet in the air, flying home after a wedding in California.
Looking down I see the cars inching their way along the road below. I think back to the trip I made with my friends in college. We drove all the way from Salem to Disneyland, stopping only at the house of my friend whose wedding I was in yesterday. It took so long just to cross the border into California. The scenery slipped by at a rapid pace, and although it took some time, we seemed to be moving along fast enough.
From up here I see miles upon miles of endless, curving roads. The cars zipping along down there seem to scoot through the pass at a snail's pace. Three years ago when we made that trip we were four young, ambitious college students with things we wanted to do, places we wanted to see. We were racing through college one assignment at a time (and sometimes three). The lessons, experiences, adventures, and friendships flew past as we rushed down the freeway of college life. Down on the road all we could see were the things that were important to us: relationships, grades, adventures, and making our mark on the world.
As it is, I'm not far removed from that freeway, and my perspective hasn't changed much. But as I look down on those rippling ridges and patchwork plains I can't help but think that some day I will look at the landscape of my life and realize that those speeding miles were lingering inches, and all around me was a world and a story that I could never have fathomed.
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