Cornhole
While being shown around the Southern Seminary fitness center complex, my tour guide began listing the equipment that the school has available for us students to play outdoor sports. Football? Yep. Soccer goals? Yep. Cornhole? Yep.
This revelation left me with one burning question: What exactly is “Cornhole”? While it didn’t appear in Rick Reilly’s book entitled Sports from Hell, the name itself leaves me having a very hard time imagining “Cornhole” as being a sport played alongside polo by the rich and famous. This question plunged me into a veritable quest to unravel the mystery that is Cornhole. I now present to you “The Cornhole Song.”
Peaches Paradise
Every year the Cornerstone Youth Group travels to Sultata, CA to work at Gleanings for the Hungry. Gleanings is a peach processing plant that takes donated cull peaches from local supermarkets and turns them into dried fruit to be shipped to hungry people across the world. The plant is operated by youth groups like ours who come and run the machinery for a week at a time. During our week at Gleanings we processed 650,000 pounds of peaches (which is approximately 2.1 million peaches.) It’s our tradition to write a parody song about our experiences….and here’s the semi-catastrophic result.
Finding My Name on ESPN.com
Throughout my entire life I’ve always assumed that there has to be someone out there dumber than I am. Today Rick Reilly of espn.com dismantled that illusion. They say everyone has 15 minutes of fame. Good to know mine went towards a noble cause.
(For explanation of the picture, read the article.)
Umpires in the News
If you’ve had any exposure to the media over the last four days, chances are you’ve heard quite a bit about the perfect game that wasn’t quite. Armando Galarraga of the Detroit Tigers was one out away from pitching the 21st perfect game in Major League Baseball history (which is the last 135 years) when first base umpire Jim Joyce missed the call on a close play at first base. Rather than having tossed a perfect game, Galarraga now owns the most famous one-hitter that the MLB has ever seen. Even more surprising than the missed call has been the character shown in the reactions of Galarraga and Joyce – understanding from the pitcher, regret from the umpire. Sports errors and character are usually not mentioned in the same sentence.
I’ve spent the last two summers umpiring baseball in Omaha, Nebraska. I’ve probably seen 20,000 pitches from behind the plate and an equal number from the field. Consequently, I have a little bit different vantage point than most sports fans talking about this event. The day after, I was watching a video clip on espn.com, where a baseball expert was dissecting how Jim Joyce could have possibly missed the call. It was his opinion that Joyce made a critical error when he watched the ball hop towards the second baseman, rather than keeping his attention focused on the area where the play would develop – first base.
I don’t know if this particular commentator has any umpiring experience. I doubt it given his critique, but I want to be fair and say I don’t know. The first lesson you’re taught as an umpire is “keep your eyes on the ball.” The only exceptions are on tag-ups and deep fly balls where you have to make sure the runners tag the bag as they’re running. A great example of this is on an attempted steal of second base. The play will be at second, and yet the base umpire doesn’t turn to look at the base until the ball is traveling past him. I leaned why when I came inches from getting pegged by an errant throw from the catcher. You always keep your eye on the ball, or else it will probably hit you.
I’ve heard several other critiques of Joyce since then. That he should have consulted with the other umpires. But doing that is abdicating your job and selling out your partners. They’re too far away to see anything. And you never appeal unless a manager directly asks. Even then the partner will back you 100% unless it’s a foot-off-the-bag situation. Or that Joyce should have been on the side of the pitcher, where any close play would have been an out since he was on the verge of pitching a perfect game. While that sounds great, as an umpire you try very hard to keep yourself oblivious of anything other than the play developing before you. To do anything else is biased, and that’s a very slippery slope to start heading down.
What I didn’t realize until I started umpiring games myself is that timing plays a huge role in being a successful umpire. Baseball is a game of split-second plays, and that requires split-second calls. When you’re behind the plate, from the time the ball hits the catcher’s mitt, you have about half a second before you have to make the call. If you delay any longer, it looks like you’re unsure about whatever call you make. And managers don’t exactly let you get away with anything that looks like indecision.
Likewise, you don’t think about a safe/out call. You react. And sometimes that reaction is wrong. The thump of the ball hitting the glove and the thump of the foot hitting the bag are almost, but not quite, identical. In a split-second decision, it’s easy to mix up the sounds and the sights. I know because I’ve done it, just like I’ve called a fastball right down the middle of the plate a ball because my timing was off and it was too late by the time I realized that the pitch was really a strike.
I don’t remember where, but I read one really insightful comment during the week: nobody feels worse about this than Jim Joyce, not even Armando Galarraga. That’s really true. The plays I remember most vividly are the ones I got wrong. The balk/fair ball/foul ball play in the Hooper tourney. The safe/out play at first at Kelly Field during the Runza Spring Classic. The hit batter/not hit batter/dead-ball tag out during the state tournament at Sandlot Field.
Nobody has higher standards for umpires than the umpires themselves. They’re a group of people who pride themselves on knowing a rulebook that was designed to cover every situation that could ever happen on a baseball field full of managers trying to circumvent the rules to gain a competitive edge.
I was just a baby umpire, and I have an immense amount of respect for the pros. They spend the whole season on the road, away from their families, living from hotel to hotel. It’s definitely a thankless job, but without them we would be without sports, and that would make life a little less fun.
Hangin’ with Dr. Mohler
Friday night I was invited over to Al Mohler‘s house. He and his family live in the president’s mansion (a word not accidentally chosen) next to the grounds of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, KY. Okay, so there were about 200 other people invited that night as part of the preview weekend at the Seminary, but let’s not dwell too long on the petty details.
The way I figure, it’s all about getting that “inside story” from a celebrity. Something that won’t appear in any book or on any talk show, but rather is just a random piece of the person’s life. Mohler and his family stood at the door of their home greeting all of the preview students and families. While shaking hands he asked me where I was from. “San Luis Obispo, CA area” I replied. At that point he got rather animated and pulled his wife and daughter over and said “He’s from San Luis Obispo!” I was expecting a “Where exactly is that?” response, not a interrupting-other-people’s-conversation-with-his-daughter-and-wife response. “What’s the significance of that?” I asked with a smile and a shrug. Mohler then proceeded to tell me about a Fourth of July vacation they took in my stomping grounds.
While stopping for gas on the Fourth, a woman approached Mohler outside the convenience store. Looking up at him she exclaimed, “You are the ugliest man I have ever met! You are so incredibly ugly!” I had to laugh at the reminder to be humble, Mohler interjected. The woman was quickly shooed away by a cop with “a thick Jersey accent.” The cop said something akin to “Don’t worry about it, she says that to everyone who goes into the store. She’s crazy.” Mohler inquired as to where the fireworks were going to be that night and the Joisey cop responded, “Ah nah. Wee don’t have no fireworks heere. It sceers away da boidees.” Yet another Fourth of July foiled by the Snowy Plover bird colonies.
Later in the evening I was poking around Mohler’s 40,000 book personal library when I walked into a room where he was informally answering questions with about 15 prospective students. I stood back and listened for a while, but decided to join the fray when I realized I was stuck in the room until the crowd packing the two entrances thinned out. I like to ask questions that help me view such men as people with real lives in situations like that. I can go find something Mohler’s written to answer any doctrinal questions I have, and that kind of setting doesn’t afford enough time to give the details necessary to ask a life-situation question.
So I asked “What’s the strangest question you’ve ever been asked?”
I thought he might say “Yours,” but instead replied “It was on the day that I was to be announced as the president of Southern Seminary. I had been up for about 72 hours straight, being grilled by the board of trustees, flying to different places for various meetings. I was 33 years old and incredibly young for the job. I was about to meet with a very hostile press for this announcement when a reporter asked me ‘You’re 33 years old, what do you plan to do about that?’ I turned to him and said ‘I plan to age.’ And let me tell you, that is the promise I’ve kept most faithfully over the last 17 years.”
So there you have it, my experience of hanging with Dr. Mohler.
Weather
It’s foggy in London tonight
And the spires of cathedrals are shrouded from sight
The trucks are all stalling and the children all calling
For their Father who seems to be gone.
It’s twilight in cratered Berlin
And out come the stars, stirring up hope once again.
The Father’s big smile cracks the chains of Belial
And the cross and the tomb come to life.
The fog of the day and the clear of twilight
Are just metaphors of a little child’s fight
Against the doubts and the tears and unwarranted cheers
And the thought he could ever be content
With anything less.
It’s raining in Old Orchard Park
Another blesséd day of life in the dank and the dark
Though the weather is contrary, at least its only temporary,
Because sunny is the weather of my home.
And the fog and the rain and the sun and twilight
Are just metaphors of a little child’s fight
Against the doubts and the tears and unwarranted cheers
And the thought He could ever be content
With anything less.
Shepherds’ Conference Books
One of the highlights of The Shepherd’s Conference is the yearly book giveaway. The “entry fee” for a publisher to come and set up a resources table is the requirement to give away a copy of one book to every conference attender. The total value of the books given away was about $150,000 (or $10,000 per publisher). To understand how many books are being bought on top of what are given away, realize that these publishers must then sell $10,000 worth of materials to break even. All of them wind up walking away with a pretty hefty profit margin. I learned pretty quickly this weekend that the most dangerous place to be in the world is between a pastor and a free book. Here’s the books that were given away by the publishers:
A House Divided: Elijah and the Kings of Israel by John MacArthur (OT Study Guide Series)
Ashamed of the Gospel: When the Church Becomes Like the World by John MacArthur
Best of Jonathan Edwards’ Sermons (Audio CD by christianaudio)
End of an Era: The Rise and Fall of Solomon by John MacArthur (OT Study Guide Series)
Expository Listening by Ken Ramey
Finally in the Land: God Meets His People’s Needs by John MacArthur (OT Study Guide Series)
Get Outta My Face!: How to Reach Angry, Unmotivated Teens with Biblical Counsel by Rick Horne
MacArthur New Testament Commentary Series: James by John MacArthur
Mentor Commentary Series: Joel & Obediah by Irvin A. Busenitz
Philippians: An Expositional Commentary by James Montgomery Boice
Prophets, Priests, and Kings: The Lives of Samuel and Saul by John MacArthur (OT Study Guide Series)
Reasoning from the Scriptures with the Jehovah’s Witnesses by Ron Rhodes
The Big Three: Major Events that Changed History Forever by Dr. Henry Morris III
The Divorce Dilemma: God’s Last Word on Lasting Commitment by John MacArthur
The End of the Law: Mosaic Covenant in Pauline Theology by Jason C. Meyer
The Ministry by Charles Brown
The Prayer of the Lord by R.C. Sproul
The Restoration of a Sinner: David’s Heart Revealed by John MacArthur (OT Study Guide Series)
The Shepherd Leader: Achieving Effective Shepherding in Your Church by Timothy Z. Witmer
The Stone and the Glory: Lessons on the Temple Presence and the Glory of God by Greg Harris
This Little Church Had None: A Church in Search of the Truth by Gary E. Gilley with Jay Wegter
Understanding English Bible Translation: The Case for an Essentially Literal Approach by Leland Ryken
Word Filled Families by Dr. John S. Barnett
One book on this list that I’ve read recently is Get Outta My Face!. I’m hoping to post a book review of sorts about it in the next few days. It’s an excellent book and I’m glad it was placed in a lot of hands this weekend. In addition to these books, the gift given away by the conference was two $25 gift certificates to be used anywhere on the Grace campus. Which pretty much means more books. Here’s what I chose to purchase:
Adopted for Life: The Priority of Adoption for Christian Families and Churches by Russell Moore [see my book review here.]
All Things for Good by Thomas Watson (Puritan Paperbacks)
The Bruised Reed by Richard Sibbes (Puritan Paperbacks)
He Gave Us a Valley by Dr. Helen Roseveare (Part two of her autobiography. Part one can be found here.)
The Betrayal: A Novel on John Calvin by Douglas Bond
The Godly Man’s Picture by Thomas Watson (Puritan Paperbacks)
The Mortification of Sin by John Owen (Puritan Paperbacks)
Why Johnny Can’t Preach by T. David Gordon [see my book review here]
Joy in the Journey
This song was the title track of one of the few CDs we had growing up in my house. My distaste at the slow, piano-driven melody meant that I never bothered to listen to the words. Even had I listened, I’m not sure my twelve year old mind could have grasped the deep and heartening truths found in it. Having now experienced more of the joys and the sorrows of the journey, I can indeed say there is a joy in it all.
Disc Golf as Ministry
One of the joys of my current position in ministry is that I get to go disc golfing (“frisbee golfing” to the terribly unsophisticated) with members of the youth group two or three times a week. I was first introduced to the sport about eight years ago through some members of my church. I would play every couple weeks in high school, the time pressures of college and dorm ministry relegated my faithful JK Champion Valkyrie driver to the furthest reaches of my closet.
During the last few months, frisbee golf has become the main point of contact between me and the members of the youth group outside of our church setting.
Disc golf is played much like “normal” golf, except by throwing frisbees instead of hitting golf balls. Specialty discs are made for frisbee golf, with thicker rims and heavier plastics to increase distance and resistance to wind. There’s a tee box that you throw off of, and a basket that you must throw your disc into (picture below). Professional players can consistently throw discs in excess of 500 feet. We’re not exactly professionals on the Cornerstone Youth Group Disc Golf Circuit. 
It has been a challenge to transition out of a discipleship-heavy, relationship-driven ministry as an RA at TMC to a position that is driven by teaching and finds me spending long hours behind a desk in a solitary office. And yet, I cannot believe that teaching and relationships cannot be blended together in a church environment. Which, is probably a better situation because the people doing the teaching are also doing the discipleship. My pastor’s sermons mean more because I see the life he lives in the words he speaks. It certainly is harder to get to know people when you don’t live next door to them, but difficulty isn’t supposed to stop the growth of the kingdom of God.
The more of a friend I become to the youth, the more they will hear what I have to teach on Wednesday nights. We rarely talk about anything spiritually-oriented during our disc golf games. There’s far more taunting over bad shots and laughter over the bizarre characters we meet and talk of music and Boy Scouts and pranks I pulled at Masters than anything. And that’s a beautiful thing. Because as we laugh at how the Grim Weeper tree on hole 10 ate my drive, I know that there’s more going on than just a frustrating disc golf shot. It isn’t a waste of my time to disc golf instead of write or read. Because the gospel exists inside of life, and is meant to be experienced in everything under the sun.
1 Thessalonians 2:8 says, “Having so fond an affection for you, we were well-pleased to impart to you not only the gospel of God but also our own lives, because you had become very dear to us.” That really is the impetus for interpersonal ministry. It’s about the gospel and life, because the gospel is not a stagnant, intellectual belief but a controlling manner of life. Life and words serve to feed off of one another to increase the power of both. The more I see how those who teach me live, the more I pay attention to what they have to say. And the more I hear what they have to say, the more I’m confronted with who I ought to be.
