A Lesson From My Brother

Today, I was thinking about my brother, Scott.  He’s had a rough few years trying to figure out what steps he needs to take in his life.  For a long time, his dream has been to become a professional golfer on the PGA Tour.  You see, he’s a natural athlete and has met great success in every sport he’s every played.  From dominating Little League hitters on the mound to scoring 1,000 points throughout his high school basketball career, Scott Levy has been known as an athlete.  But his golfing brought him even more success as he won tournament after tournament, championship after championship all over the tri-state area.  He had big plans to play in a top college program and then hit the pros.  Scott’s always seen himself as a champion.

Somewhere along the way, his road to success took a detour, and he’s struggled as a golfer for the last few years.  At this point, I have very little of an idea what he’s going to do in the near or far future, and I don’t think he knows a whole lot more.  But I admire Scott.  I admire him because, among all the adversity he’s had, he still believes that in the end, it’s going to turn out the way he’s always planned.

Because Scott Levy believes in himself, and that’s further than most people get to reaching their dreams.

It really is a rare case to see someone stick to it long enough to get even partially up the mountain that stands between us and our dreams.  And the few that do, well, those are the people we make movies about and write books on.  Those are the people that change the world.  Those are the people we begin our lives dreaming of becoming like, but end our lives being jealous of, because they had something we didn’t.

But the saddest part of this story, this story that keeps being told, is that what we didn’t have isn’t success.  It’s not riches.  It’s not fame.  It’s not a “big break.”  It’s a belief that we can accomplish what we set out to.  It’s a determination to become who we always wanted to be.  And if we don’t have that, perhaps we haven’t had people in our lives who affirm who we are.  And that’s probably because the people who should have been affirming us didn’t believe in themselves either.  It’s a vicious cycle of self-doubt.

So what would our world look like if we started believing in ourselves?  I’d like to stick around long enough to see that happen.

One Little Pronoun, One Big Calling

Matthew 5:1-2

“Now when he saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down.  His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them saying . . .”

These words serve as the preface to the Sermon on Mount, probably the most popular speech given by Jesus during his time on earth.  I think we miss a little (or, perhaps, quite large) detail most often when reading through Matthew.  After all, it seems like these couple of sentences are no more than an introduction to the red letters that follow.  Perhaps this is so, but I think there’s an important and nifty connection here.

The pronoun “them,” in this case, points back to “his disciples.”  Matthew isn’t talking about the crowd here.  “He began to teach the disciples.”  Now, I’m sure Jesus wasn’t ignoring the multitude that had come all this way just to hear him speak.  After all, “he went up on a mountainside” to give this sermon.

But the point is, his teaching was geared not to the huge gathering of folks, but to the smaller group he called his disciples.  He was talking to people who had left behind everything to follow him—people who were sold out and fully committed.

Now Jesus was surely aware of the crowd.  I’d bet he quite well that there was a sizable percentage of them who would hear what he was about to say and dismiss him as yet another looney with a messianic complex, sounding off on Jewish doctrine.  Yet, he still said what he had come to say, and the Sermon on the Mount is nothing to scoff at.  There are some harsh realizations here.  It includes a call to live counter-culture, some new definitions of sin that even the Pharisees weren’t requiring, and a commandment to be perfect, like God Himself.

This is the first public speech that we know of in Jesus’ ministry.  Matthew records it right after he emerges from fasting and fighting temptation in the wilderness.  Jesus calls a few disciples, and then sits them down to tell them what he’s all about.  This is a mission statement.  It’s an explanation of the life he’s asking them to live.

He spoke to those who were committed, whose loyalty wasn’t going to fade away any time soon.  And he didn’t water down his message for those who would be offended or disappointed.  He wasn’t concerned with being “seeker-sensitive.”  Jesus just spoke.  And guess what?  People followed.