I love the way that Southwest Airlines does its seating. It’s basically open seating and whoever checks in first gets first choice of seats. I’m not anal about it, but I usually get somewhere in the first sixty people on the plane. So, I get my preferred aisle seat. Once I’m seated though I feel like I’m standing in a line against the wall in third grade, waiting to be picked for the kickball game. One by one, people look left and right down the aisles and at some point have to realize that they are going to have to sit next to someone. So they begin to assess each person, each seat and decide who will be comfortable to sit next to, who looks friendly, who doesn’t smell bad, who will not attempt to talk to you when they want to sleep. I’m not going to lie, I make these judgments too as board the plane.
In elementary school, I was a killer kickball player, I mean I played soccer since I was five so how could I not be a great kickball player? Yet I was always the last to be picked. Likewise, in middle school, our school had a program called Natural Leadership, in which students were nominated to participate in a training program of sorts. I always thought I was a good leader, but nobody nominated me so I couldn’t participate. In certain circles it seems to work that way, like on my high school soccer teams. However, on my club soccer teams that I was on with different teammates than the high school teams, I was often a captain, a leader, and one of the more respected players. Now, as I sit in the aisle seat and I make eye contact with person after person who passes me by, I become self conscious to the highest degree. “Am I scary looking? Do I smell? Am I so fat that people think they will be uncomfortable next to me?” Not every plane ride is like this though. Sometimes I’m the first to be picked, and we have great conversation and have a great ride.
Why is it that in certain environments a persons talents and skills are showcased so well, but in other environments, they are compressed into a box and stored away? In High school, I made a drastic decision my senior year. I had completed three years of school at RB High, and had many different circles of friends. I did ok in school, I made the soccer teams I tried out for, I made it into plays I tried out for, I was in the top choir, I was a part of a few clubs’ leadership teams. It was an average high school career. But I was so unhappy. For three years I was unhappy because I thought I was worth more than that. I thought I should be a team captain, a bigger role in a play. I was selected as a co-choir president by the director, but if I tried to do any of the presidential duties, I was kind of told, no- the other co-presidents would do it. I was one of four students who started a new club to fight biased, bigotry, and racism. I worked hard with them to speak in the community with public clubs, like Octagon International. I spoke at teachers meetings to drum up support, I filled out paper work at times. But once the club was established and we had to elect officers, I lost in the elections for Pres, VP, Sec, Treas, and two other leadership roles. I was offered a consolation position that the club director made up because she felt bad for me, it was called “Head of Speaking Events.” Better than nothing I guess.
Overall, I felt like nobody thought I was special, or a standout. After three years (well, more really because middle school hadn’t been much different), I was starting to think about myself how everyone else thought of me. I bet I would have graduated thinking of myself just that way. Extremely average. Run of the mill. But one day, I was sitting in economics class in the seat in front of Gabe Lindamen. He was a popular guy, really cool, funny, played the banjo, loud, obnoxious. But his comedic outbursts often hurt somebody. Quite often, that person was me. He made it public that my clothes were not cool, I was a loser, I was a momma’s boy. One month into the first semester of my senior year, there he was behind me in class, poking at me- literally. He cracked a few jokes before class started, then made some comment that I don’t remember. I quickly stood up and turned around and at the moment that I thought I was going to swing back my arm and hit him, I breathed in really hard, filling up my lungs, staring at his shocked, confused face, and I sharply grabbed my backpack and walked out of class. At the end of the day, I made arrangements with my mom to transfer schools. My friends were confused. The choir took it hard, especially the teacher - I think she took it really personally. I suddenly felt like I could be more. I never cared too much about what others thought of me, but I felt I deserved, at the least, respect. I have a feeling that in that decision, I earned Gabe’s respect. The next day, as I went in to get my teacher to sign off on my transfer and mark down my grade, he announced to the class that I was going. After that last class, I found out that Gabe did have a heart, though I had never seen it before in 3 years. He put his hand on my shoulder from behind- a stark contrast from the pokes of the day before- and said, “I’m really sorry if anything I did hurt you.” I think I mumbled something back to him, passing off his part of all of this like, “oh that’s not why I’m leaving”. I hope he knew though deep down that he was the last straw anyway.
Hindsight is so weird. Looking back at what one moment, one day in my life meant. I think If I could talk to Gabe today, I would tell him, “thanks. You changed my life.” Really, he did. In two ways though. First, he was the last straw that pushed me to do something that really changed my future. I could have transferred and been bitter the rest of my life, thinking that some people are just mean. But when he apologized, I decided with conviction that people in general are definitely good deep down.
So, I transferred. Mt. Carmel would be my new school. It’s not much of a different school besides the fact that the average car in the parking lot had a retail value of about $15000 less than that of RB high. I was offered a spot in the top choir, but turned it down because I had already filled my elective requirements and I figured choir would be an extra class that I could just take off first period. I continued private voice lessons instead. But part way through the semester, the drama teacher approached me because he had heard that I sing and act. He asked me to try out for the musical, which I probably would have done anyway. I don’t think that he nor I expected that I would be given the lead role which also won me the best actor award for the year. I felt like a leader in clubs that I joined, even though it was too late to become an officer. I felt like my input was always appreciated in classes. I felt like people wanted to be around me rather than they were just content that I was around. Friends wanted me to try out for the soccer team, though I chose not to because the musical interfered. I was just plain respected and understood. To top it off, I was chosen to sing a solo at graduation.
Now, I’m not boasting that I am much of a singer or actor or soccer player, I am just stressing the affect that a different atmosphere can have on a person. A change in environment can re-define someone, or help that person to re-define themself. It’s funny, I’m listening to Switchfoot right now, and the song “More than Fine” just came on.
“When I wake in the morning, I wanna blow it to pieces. I want more than just OK….”
“…I’m not giving up, giving up, not giving up now. I’m not giving up giving up, I’m not selling out… not backing down”
“...More than Fine, more than bent on getting by. More than fine, more than just ok. More than oceans away from the dawn. More than oceans away from who we are….”
These lyrics are perfect.
This is what I want, what I always wanted. This is what I wanted in High school. More than Fine, more than just ok. I think most people want that, don’t they? Don’t you? Somewhere over time too many of us are convinced that we don’t deserve more than fine. I was there at the beginning of my senior year of high school. I am not backing down, not giving up! I am going to re-discover myself and re-define myself.
The problem I think we have in society, the reason why we so often hold each other back and tell each other they are not good enough – not in words, but in actions- is that we live in a society that equates success and finance and happiness to a pie; The more you get, the less for me. Isn’t that the way we think? Don’t we complain about immigrants because if they get a piece of the pie, I can’t get any? Don’t we shun socialism because we are too afraid to share our possessions with others? And we are afraid to recognize each others' talents and lift each other up because if they are good at something, it means I am less good at it? We have the wrong focus. We do not live in a pie – but we do live in a circular world; what goes around comes back around to us.
Jesus told a parable about a man, a King, who entrusted his finances with three people. To one he gave 10 talents, to another 5 and to the third, 1 talent. The first two decided to invest the talents, and the last buried it in a hole. Because the finances grew for the first two, the King was happy, but he was extremely disappointed with the third man, for not doing anything with his part.
This story has been told from many different angles. I’ve heard a preacher say that this is a reference to our faith. We need to read and pray every day to strengthen our faith. I’ve heard rich pastors say that this proves that God wants us to have lots of money, that we shouldn’t be ashamed of having money. But I am wondering why was it that the first two invested and the last one didn’t. Was he not smart enough? Did he not know where the bank was?
What if this man was handed that one talent and thought, “well, he gave more to the others to hold for him, so he must not trust me. He must not think I’m good enough, smart enough. So, to be sure I don’t prove him right, that I don’t screw this up, I will be extra careful not to lose this one. I will bury it.” Why is this story always used as a scrutiny towards the third man, and not a scrutiny of the King? I know, that is how Jesus was directing it towards his crowd at the time, but I don’t think He will be mad at me for analyzing it a little.
The King was mad at the man for not investing the finances, but he did not invest his trust, his respect. There was a study done on school children one time where students who did historically well in class were placed in a class together, and the teacher was told that these were the bad students. They couldn’t pay attention, they didn’t work hard, they were failures. Alternatively, a class was comprised of students who often failed in class, and the teacher was told that they were so smart, quality, well behaved students. I’m sure you know what happened; The first group of students did poorly and the second group did well. It’s called the Pygmalion effect. The product a person produces is directly related to the investment that is made into them. I knew this as a trainer at a bank – the more someone was trained, the more successful they were, the quicker they got promoted. And I felt good at that job. Comedians get it; we laugh, they say more jokes and get funnier, if we don’t, they stumble and want to leave. It’s a simple concept for gardeners too; pick the weeds, water your plants, fertilize them and they will grow.
Have you noticed how much I’ve been writing lately? It’s only because people have shown appreciation, and complimented my ability to write, which didn’t used to get recognized much.
Give away your trust. Give away your faith in people. As a society, we should give away our acceptance and love. I believe that giving is contagious. Hopefully its as contagious as the plague. What if we gave away recognition to each other, maybe we would make people believe in themselves. What if we gave away welcome to immigrants. Maybe they wouldn’t feel the need to cheat the broken system; they would be a part of it and improve it. And I just have to say, seriously Bush, do you want to pick the fruit in the fields? Are they really taking away jobs? huh? really? It's just fear. Fear of what's uncomfortable, what's new. Fear of failing. Even fear of success.
We are so afraid. So, so afraid in this world. Afraid of someone else taking our substance. You can’t have it. this is just one more thing that we hypocritically teach our children, but don’t apply to our lives – “Share your toys, Tommy. But I don’t want to share my project at work, because I’d have to share the credit. I can’t share my money with the homeless guy on the street, because I won’t be able to pay for your school, Tommy. Of course, I was able to afford that $5.00 Latte this morning” Yes, we will get hurt. Yes, yes we will be burned, screwed, fucked, taken advantage of. Do it anyway, remember you are Christ’s ambassador. He was ready to get hurt for you, so be willing to get hurt for someone else. If we live in Christ, and He lives in us, then nothing we give away was ours to begin with. Don’t you think the King missed his money while it was gone? Well, eventually it will come back around, having been invested, but only by the ones he invested in. The world God created is not a pie.
Here's a little secret: The pie we hold onto is a shit pie. We don’t need a piece of it. The more we hold on to it, the more we think we like it, but at the end of the day, it is SHIT for crying out loud. But when we let it go, God has an endless supply of Pie that He shares with us. Any kind you want. And it won't even make you fat! He even shares it with the people holding the shit pie- isn't that Crazy?
Giving is Grace - Grace is a gift from Jesus - Jesus is saying, “[You] will not thirst, or hunger” without the pie.
Still, even though a gardener knows when to water a plant, they also know when a plant must be transplanted. One plant might thrive in San Diego (mmm, Avocados) and one might thrive in New Jersey (mmm, Blueberries) and one might do well on either coast (mmm… um peaches?). Don’t let your soil kill your belief in yourself. Don’t let your environment destroy your love for yourself. Don’t let the weeds grow around you and suffocate you. If you cannot treat the soil, transplant yourself. If you cannot find a watering can, find rain. If you cannot kill the weeds, pick them.
If you cannot feel God’s love, show somebody that you love them!
We were meant for so much more.
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