The Online Chaplain

Is it Better to be a Jock or a Nerd?

Is it Better to be a Jock or a Nerd?
In answer to the eternal question "Is it better to be a jock or a nerd?" I submit the following:  Michael Jordan in his career earned over $300,000 a game: $10,000 a minute.

He earned $40 million in endorsements in his last years of playing, that’s $178,100 a day
Assuming he slept 7 hours a night, he made $52,000 every night while visions of sugarplums dance in his head. 
If he went to see a movie, it cost him $7.00, but he made $18,550 while he was there. 
He made $7,415/hr more than minimum wage.
He made $3,710 while watching each episode of Friends. 
If he wanted to save up for a new Acura NSX ($90,000) it would take him a whole 12 hours. 
If someone were to hand him his salary and endorsement money, they would have to do it at the rate of $2.00 every second. 
If you were given a tenth of a penny for every dollar he made, you'd be living comfortably at $65,000 a year.

Every year of his career he made more than twice as much as all of our past presidents for all of their terms combined.  Amazing isn't it?  But, Jordan will have to save 100% of his income for 270 years to have a net worth equivalent to that of Bill Gates, CEO of Microsoft.  NERDS RULE!!!

Insane Observation
Let me make an observation.  Michael Jordon and Bill Gates are blessed by God!  They are abundantly and thoroughly blessed.  The evidence of such wealth must mean they have found pleasure in the sight of God and God is blessing them. It simply couldn’t mean anything else.

In contrast I have a friend who came home and found his wife in the midst of a fatal asthma attack.  She died leaving him with three boys under the age of six years old.  Let me make the observation, this friend of mine was cursed by God.  The evidence of such tragedy could only mean he found displeasure in the sight of God and God cursed him.  It simply couldn’t mean anything else.

Is there any one reading this that would like to stand up and say, “That’s a bunch of bull!”  If you aren’t willing to say it, I will.  BULL!  The idea that when things are going well you must be pleasing God, and when things are going bad you are displeasing is a thought and a theology born at the “gates of hell”, perpetuated by a “consumer driven American society” that has inundated us with the idea that more is better, bigger is best and faster is more favorable.  A society that has taught us from mother’s knee to our death bed if you do the right things we will be rewarded. 

I listened to an evangelist at the Fargodome a number of years ago tell twenty-thousand young people that if they would give their lives to Jesus they would be guaranteed a attractive spouse and a good career.  Really!  Theologians call this kind of thinking “prosperity theology.”  I have another name for it.  Bulls#%**!  I can say with assurance this thought has absolutely nothing to do with Christianity.  Let me give you two examples of how prevalent this idea is, even in the church. 

Idea #1:  “I should follow Christ and there will be a divine worldly payoff.”
If I follow Christ I will live a long and happy life.  One defined by a full belly, a long and marvelous career, 2.2 children, a well-trained dog, and a dutiful spouse.  Then at life’s end you will slip into the gently by and by and things will really get good.  You cannot imagine how much I would love to tell you that and have it be true.  But there are facts I simply cannot ignore.

Fact One:  The friend I had whose came home to a wife in a fatal asthma attack is and was at the time one of the finest pastors I have ever known.  Fact Two:  Statistically, well over half of all the children who died in the eighties and nineties on the continent of Africa were Christian.  Fact Three:  Really rotten things happen to really good people.

Ponder the biblical evidence.  Paul, the greatest of all the New Testament Christians dies in prison in Rome.  Peter is crucified upside down.  Stephen is stoned to death.  John dies on the Island of Patmos in exile.  And through the ages the list has grown and grown.

Jesus said, Luke 9:23  "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.”  Cross!  Say it with me.  Cross!  Not silver spoon! CROSS.  Christianity does not change the circumstances of our life it changes us.  It breaks into our private ego-centric, little lives and introduces us to a purpose and a privilege greater than ourselves.  Christianity does not say, “Great I’m glad you are following Jesus here is you silver spoon.  It says “great, here is your burden, here is the care of your neighbor, here is seven hundred soldiers in Iraq – make sure they get home safely, here is the same sacrificial love that killed your founder, and here is your cross.” 

Idea #2:  “I should follow Christ to avoid punishment for my sin.”
Although it is true to follow Christ is to have our sins washed away, it is and always will be poor motivation.  It is to say, “I love my wife because if I don’t she will beat the heck out of me.”  That just don’t cut mustard for long.

In June, I will be married to Bev for twenty-four years.  Botabeem botaboom!  Wow!  Twenty-four years.  Let me tell you why I love her so much.  Oops!  I can’t.  You see there is no way to put into words those things that are intimately knitted into your soul, over time.  It’s impossible!  I couldn’t possibly explain to you how even in Iraq, at war, she is as close to me as if we were sitting on the sofa together.  I, the wordsmith, have no words.  It simply is the truth.  If I could not love her, I could not be who I have become, who God has made me.  So, I must love her.

It is the same with God.  If I could not love Jesus, I could not be who I have become, who he has made me to be.  So, I must love him.  When the disciples learned this they could not be quieted.  Jesus said about them, I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” 

The idea of punishment has no place in the mind and heart of a Christian at all.  God has taken your sin, your punishment, your shame and has cast it as far as the east is from the west.  Though your sins be as scarlet, you are white as snow.

Final Answer:  So, if it isn’t for payoff, or the avoidance of punishment why be a Christian at all?  It is the million dollar question.  Why do 110 million Americans get out of bed on Sunday morning drag themselves to worship?  Why should you belong to a church, give money to a church, or even bother with church? 

Or, to make things more specific why should you care about the burdens of someone else?  Why should you pick up the burdens of the world?  Why should I go to bible study, memorize scripture, teach Sunday school, or one of the many other things that can be done.

Well don’t do them because you have to.  Do them because you get to.  I get to be included in the purposes of God.  I get to be part of the economy of God.  I get to be used by God to make the world a better place for myself, my children, my spouse and my neighbor.  I get to be involved in God reconciling the world.  I am an insider in an outsider world.  I have a place.  I am blessed.

What Does a Christian Look Like?

So, how do you get to heaven?  What does a Christian look like?  Even Ole and Lena are a bit confused.

When Ole died, he got to heaven, and St. Peter met him at the gate and said, “Ole before I can let you in you have to pass a little spelling test.  Ole spell cat.”  Ole said, “C-A-T, Cat.”  St. Peter got all excited and the whistles and the bells went off, all welcoming Ole into heaven.  After the fanfare St. Peter asked Ole, “Can you do me a little favor.  I have to run some errands, could you watch the gate?”  “Sure no problem,” says Ole.  No sooner does St. Peter disappear, and Lena shows up.  Ole says to her, “Lena before I can let you in you have to pass a little spelling test.  Lena spell CZECHLOSVAKIA.

So, what does a Christian look like?  Who does get into heaven?  This is of course not a new question.  What makes a religious person religious has been the heart of society’s quest for meaning since the beginning.  You can ask the question in a variety of ways I suppose.

1.  How do you please God?
2.  What must I do?  (Pastor tell me what must I do? –  Not an uncommon question.)
3.  What are your ethics?
4.  What does your church believe in?
5.  Do you believe the Bible is the TRUE word of God?

No matter how you ask the question at the heart of the question is an image.  The image is what a follower of God looks like, or more often, what a follower of God doesn’t look like.  It is easy to look at the Bible and see the book as a MORAL YARDSTICK, exclusively. 

I know of a church that had a marathon annual meeting recently.  This annual meeting went on for hours.  It shouldn’t surprise anyone that the topic that kept these folks so occupied was rules.  There were members of this congregation that came to the conclusion that divorced people shouldn’t serve on the church council.  In fact, they shouldn’t hold any leadership position at all.  Divorce people sat and cried.  Compassionate people squirmed.  Hard-line religious folks drove forward in all their glory.  There are no divorced people serving in any leadership positions in this congregation today.

That’s what their church decided.  What about your church?  What does a good Christian look like?  I bet he or she looks something like this…. 

I bet they always go to church.  I’m not sure what percentage of attendance is acceptable.  Let’s see the commandment goes something like this.  “Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.”  And written in really fine print somewhere it says…

Unless it is the opening of deer hunting or fishing season.
Unless you are to busy, tired, partied to hard the night before or don’t want to be around people.

That one I am sure about, Good Christian’s honor the Sabbath!  At least most of the time.

Here is another one that I’m pretty sure of…  Good Christians honor their father and mother.  Unfortunately, I am reminded of one of my favorite lines from the movies.  “You know in this country you have to have license to get married and to drive a car.  But they’ll let any #@%! Fool be a father.”  If good Christians honor their parents what are you going to say to the child whose father is an abuser, a molester or a drug addict.  Well by your standard they are excluded.

How about this one?  Good Christians don’t commit adultery.  Of course Jesus said, “You have heard it said, “thou shall not commit adultery” but I say to you that anyone who has ever looked on someone with lust in their heart has already committed adultery.”  Oh, Oh!  I’m assuming that all the calendars in the shops of men are there for the beautiful cars in their pictures.  These are optical illusion calendars.  Stare at them long enough and a car will appear.  Right…

Here’s another one.  I bet a good Christian is someone who does not kill.  That’s a commandment to “Thou shall not kill.”  Of course this excludes a lot of people.  Those of you who are veterans of war or police officers there is obviously no place for you in the kingdom.  Find the door.  And that goes for everyone else too.  Jesus said, “You have heard it said that you should not kill.  But I say to you if you have ever been angry with your brother you have already committed murder in your heart.”

Caught in the Middle
Now, cut the theological twister game and admit it.  You are caught, just like me.  When I look at all the Law’s that I could and should follow I know in my heart I’m caught.  I know that I can’t be good enough to win God’s favor.  I can’t get clean enough for the kingdom.  And I’m not religious enough to reap the reward.  I got bigger problems than not being able to spell.  Yes I do! 

The problem is that we have the right answer but we are asking the wrong question.  Yes, following the laws of God is a good thing.  After all they are God’s laws.  But, God’s Law is not what brings us the Kingdom.  God’s Law is what points us to the kingdom and keeps us safe while we are getting there.  Obedience to the Law is not a measure of your goodness it is a measure of your intelligence.  Being good won’t get you in the pearly gates.  It’s the wrong answer to the right question. 

Jesus and Children
So, here is the right answer.  In the midst of one of Jesus debates with “rules keeping religious folks” Jesus tells us exactly what it means to follow him.  Jesus says, “Let the little children come to me, do not stop them for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.  Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.”  In the midst of this debate with the religious nuts of the day, the Pharisee’s, Jesus uses rug rats and not rules to teach us about getting to heaven.  Jesus says followers are like children.

Is it because children follow rules so impressively well?  Not the children I hang around with.  So, why children?  Well there are the standard answers.

First, there is child’s humility.  You must be humble to come to God.  By and large children are humble little urchins.  This is true.  Secondly, a child is trusting.  Children by and large are trusting by nature.  You have to teach by experience a child to doubt your intentions.  They will sometimes to their own demise trust.  All of these are good answers but I think they lack the basic answer that Jesus was driving at.

Ask a child this question, “Who are you?”  Ninety-nine out of one hundred will answer the exact same way.  “I’m Bev and Corey’s son, or I’m Tom and Karen’s daughter, etc.”  I’m a Bjertness, or a Swenson or something like this.  They will always answer relationally.  Ask a child what grade they are in.  They will respond by saying, “I am in Mrs. Peterson’s class.”  Even as adult we retain some of this when we meet new people and search for common ground, “Do you know…?”  Kids are intrinsically relational.  That is what defines them.  That is what makes them kids.

That is also what makes you a Christian, or not.  God defines the kingdom not by power, obedience and rigidity but by presence, love and relationship.  To be like a child is to enjoy the relationships of the day.  It is not about marching, it is about meeting.  It is not about flying straight, it is about flying together.  So, hear the word of the Lord.

I really don’t care what rules you have broken.  I hope you don’t for your sake and the sake of others break many.  But following God is not defined by rules, it is defined by relationship.  And Christ is inviting you right now, wherever you are, to come unto him.  It’s that easy.  Here is the gift.  God loves you simply and completely because you are his.  Not, because you are so darn smart.  Good thing, huh.  Now, spell C.A.T.

What Does a Good Christian Look Like?  They are the one standing next to Jesus.

Consider This

History can not verify the truth of this story.  But, just because it may not be a true story, does not mean that it does not contain truth.  So, consider this…

His name was Fleming, and he was a poor Scottish farmer.  One day, while trying to make a living for his family, he heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog. He dropped his tools and ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.

The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.

"I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life."

"No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the Scottish farmer replied waving off the offer. At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel.

"Is that your son?" the nobleman asked.

"Yes," the farmer replied proudly.

"I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of." And that he did.

Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time, graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.

Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia. What saved his life this time? Penicillin. The name of this nobleman's son...Sir Winston Churchill.

So, consider this…  Perhaps, you are not in the dilemma you are in by accident.  The bog you feel trapped in may NOT be an accident.  Perhaps you are NOT just being played with by fate’s cruel device.  Perhaps your life is actually an orchestration of a divine plan.  Perhaps, you have been placed in a deployment, a difficult unit, a family waiting patiently for their loved one to return home from war, or some other trial for a purpose.  Perhaps, you are someone’s penicillin.  Perhaps, you are someone’s cure.  Someone’s salvation.  The answer to someone’s question.  The hope to someone’s despair. 

Perhaps, there is a world out there just waiting for the solution you have.  In fact, I am sure of it.  As sure of it as I am of my own name.  So, be of good courage, “God has a plan.”  And you are part of it.  And it is a plan for your welfare, to give you a future and a hope.  Farmer Fleming’s son couldn’t see it when he was young.  Winston Churchill couldn’t see it when he was young.  And you can't see it now be cause the pain and the loss are to great.  But, someday just as we see that through these two men thousand were saved and thousands were blessed, you too will see the purpose of your "bog".  God has a plan.  Hang on, soldier, hang on. 

The Trial (Psalm 23:3)

As I enter this courtroom my head bowed, my eyes sunken, my chained shuffle rattles out a rhythm of defeat.  I take my chair and slump beneath the weight of life in such away I know not if I shall be able to rise again.  Minutes go by and finally, I hear the bailiff cry out,

"All rise for the Honorable Judge." 

The Judge enters.  He looks somehow familiar to me, familiar as if someone I had talked to in a dream once.  My memory clouded with confusion, guilt, shame cannot produce a name, only a feeling. 

The Judge seated at a throne-like desk ruffles the papers before him.  I can not help but think that the Judge looks regal.  Not like a judge at all, but more like a king in utter and absolute control of his realm.  A king who could command the birds to sing, the winds to cease, the storms to stop.  A king who could command life or death to reign at his bidding.  This man I feared, and I was not accustomed to fear!

Eventually, his steely gaze met mine.  I held his gaze for but a moment, before I cowered in my chair.  His voice shook the room,

"Man, you are accused of crimes against humanity and God.  How do you plead?" 

I had rehearsed this a thousand times, a thousand times a thousand.  All of my life I had practiced, and perhaps hid behind my answer.  I wanted to cry out to the judge, "I am a good man," but I held my tongue for fear.  I wanted to speak and hide in the deception that was so apparent under the gaze of the Judge.  I wanted to say, "Not guilty."  But I dared not lie, before one so like a King.  I stood slowly, steadying myself as I rose.  Finally, I spoke the only thing I could say, 

"Guilty Your Honor, I am Guilty."

Guilty Your Honor, I am Guilty:  The Evidence
Years have passed since I first heard my voice pronounce my own sinful guilt.  Years that have taught me everything and nothing.  Years filled with contrition and reflection.  The pyre of evidence that convicted me years ago has become a mountain of madness when I dwell upon it.

I still commit crimes.  Hungry and thirsty people go without.  I see them, not often those starving from lack of food.  But often wandering souls deprived of meaning, lost in loneliness, abandoned in apathy, and discarded into despair.  They march by with longing, searching eyes.

How easy it would be to rescue them.  Saying kind words, placing a hand upon a shoulder, warmly smiling, and appreciation of things well done is not work.  All I would have to do is to forget about my own troubles for one instance and throw these simple life lines.  But too often I forget.

I still commit crimes.  Strangers are not welcomed.  I have so much.  The world could flow through the pathways of my life and I would not be diminished in the least.  I find the traffic of life gives me more than it takes.  Strangers need only be strangers for a moment.  A smile, a handshake, a warm hello brings us all into the circle of life. 

This lifeline would be so easy to use.  I could do it without exertion or struggle.  But, strangers pass by unnoticed.  Wayfarers in the stream of life maneuver by like shadowy figures from a novel.  But they are not.  They are people like me: searching, pursuing, hunting, and scavenging for meaning wherever it may be found.  I could lead them to the meaning that has captured me.  But I am too afraid.

I still commit crimes.  Those naked are not clothed.  Stuff.  My life often could be summed up in this single word.  A word that rolls off my tongue with a dull sickening sound that lacks purpose, meaning and joy.  STUFF.  I have filled my life with it.  Possessions like price tags hang on us advertising "the price we paid."  And the price has been too high. 

The price has been paid on the backs of those who have to little.  "Am I my brothers keeper?"  I know I am.  My brother, my sister, and their children’s children are mine to care for.  I am the guardian of their life.  Unfortunately, fear of the future is more important to me then these ragtag vagabonds.  And so I put my desires above their needs.  I turn away.  I know I should help.  But I am too uncertain.

I still commit crimes.  The sick and in prison are forgotten.  There is more than one kind of prison you know.  There are prisons built with brick, steel and mortar.  There are others built by the march of time.  Age with each passing day places a brick around a tireless soul until finally they are completely trapped in a failing body.  I am convinced the soul does not age.  Tireless, vigorous, passionate, and potent the soul soars, while the body plummets.  The eternal soul in the temporal body is the most common prison of all.

Yet, compassionate we are not.  When we plant a seedling we cannot imagine that one-day it will be a mighty oak.  When we are young we cannot imagine we will ever be old.  And so those who could open "ages prison doors" with young strong arms and hands leave them shut.  We have a sense that we should.  But we just don’t take the time.

These things I ponder often.  The trial draws me back daily now.  As I grow older the significance of the trial rises like the moon at midnight.  It is the light in the present darkness for me.  I recall full well my confession of guilt.  I have not escaped the accusation of my heart that led me to profess the guilt of my soul.  But neither have I forgotten what happened next.

The Verdict
I admit it is a blur to me.  I have never understood it’s message fully, only it’s effect.  The Judge asked me, to rise and approach the bench for sentencing.  Still chained, I shuffled forward until I stood before this kingly Judge.  Minutes passed, minutes that stretched out like a lifetime.  Finally, the Judge spoke,

"Man, as you spoke, I saw within you something I did not expect to see.  I saw the image of one long dead, but who is always present with me.  I saw the image of my Son.  Long ago he to stood before this court, accused of crimes against humanity and God.  He to plead guilty, although unlike you, he was not.  For the love of others he took their punishment upon himself, and was sentenced to death."

The steely gaze of the Judge melted as he talked.  He looked down upon me no longer as a Judge, but had the eyes of a Father.  He stretched out his hand toward mine.  His hands were large and powerful, as if he could hold the world in the palm.  As he held my hand he gently said,

"My sons blood, for your life.  You are free to go."   

I could not believe my ears.  I had received pardon for my crimes.  Glorious pardon!  I glanced back one last time to see the Kingly Judge staring in the distance.  I am sure he was remembering, as I do often, his Son, the one who died for my pardon. 

I left that glorious courtroom alone.  I did not bring guilt, shame and fear with me.  In fact, I have not seen them since.  Perhaps, they are still cowering in the corner of that courtroom, where I last saw them, or perhaps they are dead.  But for me,

"I am alive."

The Pardoned Life
I never met the one to whom I owe my life.  I never met the Son, but I know him.  The mark of his life and death is upon me.  I live because he died.  We are forever joined.  Closer than a brother he walks beside me.  Daily I am judged by his sacrifice.  He has become my Lord and Master.  I find shelter from all judgment in his image. 

And so years later I find I live under only one banner.  There is only one defense for my life.  The judgment of past and present are salved and healed in the pardon I received long ago.  This pardon I cling to daily. 

"He has made me right in his eyes, for his own sake."

This is my hope.  This is my salvation.  This is my truth.  This is my life.

Many People have Asked

Dear Friends,

Many of you have asked what you might do to help soldiers that come through CSC Scania.  Here are some items that are in short supply on an on-going basis that help get soldiers through the days.  Mind you they are not essentials, the Army takes care of the essentials.  These are what we refer to as comfort items.  But if you want to help, here is the list.

1. Razors
2. Shaving Cream
3. Hand Sanitizer
4. Deodorant
5. Lib Balm
6. Beef Jerky
7. Drink Mixes
8. Breakfast bars
9. Salted Sunflower Seeds
10. Small Cans of Pringles
11. Small bags of Trail Mix
12. Coffee
13. Freeze Pops (the old fashion kind that come in the plastic tube)

Thanks for all that you do.  Although we don't always have time to thank everyone we are deeply greatful for your faithfulness.  Things can be shipped to Chaplain CPT Corey Bjertness, HHB 1/125 Strike, CSC Scania 09331.

@peace@war,

Chapb

Numbered Days

Let me tell you, the 1/125 knows about numbered days.  This is the month we were set to go home.  But, we are not.  We are continuing our mission for 125 more days.  The nation says they need us so we drive on.  That is what soldiers do, that is what soldier families do.  But, it is not with out cost.

In the last month I have listened to countless stories of how "re-numbering of days" affects the families of soldiers.  The uniqueness of their sacrifice has been eye opening.  I can’t begin to tell you who is hardest hit.  Each soldier has just a little different twist on their unique flavor of sacrifice. 

As I "re-numbered my days" there is a verse from the Old Testament that has become very helpful.  Deut. 33:25 says, "The bolts of your gates will be iron and bronze, and as your days are numbered, so shall your strength be."  I am forty three years old.  I have seen a lot in my lifetime.  Mostly good, but also a myriad of dark days.  These dark days have taught me a great deal.  Specifically, that there is always enough strength.  Always!  But, here is  what is different…

Most of my life God has banked a three to six month reserve of strength with in me.  The extension and the violence of our area of operation has depleted my reserves.  Honestly.  I know that I am not a lone voice here.  We are no longer going month by month, or even week by week.  We are going minute by minute.  One minute’s strength gone, here is enough for the next and the day continues.  It has been this way since David Berry was killed last week, and eight of our soldiers wounded. 

So, here is my question, "Do you have enough faith for when the reserves are gone?"  Do you have enough faith when the well is empty, the checkbook empty, or even the heart is empty?  Can we or can we not trust God at these times?  All of my experience and all of my training has taught me, "YES".  You can not out spend the reservoirs of God’s strength.  Minute by minute it comes and minute by minute you go forth, in faith.  And because the giver is so faithful, so committed, so steadfast in his commitment to you, you need not fear.  So shall your strength be.