Within our present-day culture, I believe it will set you apart from the majority, therefore within certain circumstances, you will be elevated (popularity / respect) dramatically within the eyes of your fellow man. As such, regarding Christianity (assuming that's the foundation of your life), there's an opportunity there, or maybe a better way to put it is an obligation there to communicate why / what exactly is (Jesus / Holy Spirit) behind all of this good behavior.
I call this approach to manhood, here within our western culture, the Andy Griffith / Michael Landon ideal. It's this notion that men can be and should be - to be a man, particularly an American man - deeply, deeply grounded in working diligently on behalf of everyone else as a means of always looking out for their best interests. And as such, most everything (grown out of that) will hopefully conclude with reward(s) and never suffering. Never more harm. Never regret. And expectedly, your standing in the community (& bank account) will proportionally elevate as a result!
Therefore, if you die young (& this is your MO), "sainthood" may soon follow while all of us left behind - spouse, children, friends, and so forth deeply mourn our loss of all that model behavior you graced us with.
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This past week, I was made aware of just such a forecasted saint. A man who I had the privilege to know from past vocational experience (when I was working for the state of MS) many years ago.
Teddy was literally the ideal man. Handsome, caring, intelligent, articulate, well educated, credentialed. His confidence emanated naturally from his pores. And what humility! All and all, he was so very seemingly perfect in every way. Like Jesus with skin on. Literally.
Therefore, having not known of his early death during Q1 of 2021 (for I would have virtually attended the memorial service), I went searching for his obituary online.
And what I found there left me thinking an awful lot about what truly motivates a man to behave as he does (particularly amidst other people).
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Jack Lewis argued that "good men" overall are easier to see converted to Christianity, but on the opposing side of that argument, I've heard men claim (back during the Promise Keepers' days of the '80s and '90s) that men with "pasts" are often more devout / committed once obtaining faith in Jesus Christ. And that the latter case makes for a more "qualified" Christian man.
For example, if you were to follow that argument, a pagan man who'd cheated repeatedly on his spouse, spent a few years behind bars, and was heavy into drugs and alcohol prior to being converted would be defined as a more comprehensive Christian as a result. And there are plenty of those who'd argue too that conversion would be just as easy, if not easier, for this poor sinner.
The Bible presents God as a expectant father figure. Particularly regarding obedience to his commands. And, of course, all of that expected obedience falls on his children (who rely on the Holy Spirit to assist them with this). The Bible also states that man is conscious of God's existence. And this makes sense because of how we're intrinsically rationale, curious beings who long for questions to be answered like - Who am I? What's my purpose? What is the meaning of life? Who created me? Why do I exist? - and so forth.
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Many years ago, I sat through a day-long lighting design workshop down at the Old Capitol Inn. From what I remember, the event was fairly well executed and attended despite the mundane topic. But what did help to liven things up was the unique relationship between the presenters - that being, they were married. Now, this was a number of decades ago, and as such, particularly here in Mississippi, there weren't many husband / wife business partnerships to speak of - at least within the design / planning realm.
As the workshop day drug on, the temperatures dramatically rose out of doors, therefore the close quarters our small class was being held within also began to heat up proportionally.
I was seated in the very back of the narrow, makeshift classroom and feeling a bit claustrophobic, therefore I was grateful to see the event conclude when it did.
As I'd always done (& continue to do), I then dutifully made my way to the podium to thank the presenters. But midway to my destination, I was hit by a stench of ammonia-laced body odor that intensely burned my nose hairs / brought tears to my eyes. Nonetheless, I was too late to turn back, for the husband speaker had seen me coming his way to speak / ask questions there at the conclusion.
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My youngest daughter is an angel from heaven. Literally. This child is not only physically beautiful, but her spirit is just off the charts - loving, caring, and all those words that make you a little sick to your stomach if you think about them for too long.
On occasion, She and I dialogue about her pending conversion to Christianity, and oftentimes, the root of these questions are centered on her wanting to be like her big sisters (particularly in regards to being permitted to take communion at church). The emphasis on my reasoning (patriarchal observation) for her not being yet lassoed in by the gospel of Jesus Christ isn't related to her wonderfully obedient behavior. Instead, it's tied to her not being privy to her depravity / sin as an eleven year-old girl. At least on any measurable scale.
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So, let's return to my now deceased middle-aged, soon to be sainted friend.
His obituary eviscerates any notion of born-againess. As such, there's no mention of a higher power of any sort. Really, in many ways, it truly pays homage to he himself as a godman.
Therefore, were heaven truly an earned affair, he was no doubt qualified to enter in via performance here on Earth alone.
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I cannot describe how difficult it was to traverse those final 8 to 10 steps to the front of the makeshift classroom there within the Old Capitol Inn. And not only because of the horrendous stench, but due to the empathy I had for this bearded lighting designer's wife (who was now working feverishly to pack up their belongings).
It didn't take me long to realize the narrative relative to the stench emanating from him.
Likely, their presentation prep had been procrastinated. Thusly, the preceding late night effort had severely intruded on needed rest. From there, he overslept that AM, didn't have time to shower, and forgot too to re-apply deodorant to those thick hairy armpits. Complicating matters was the slow warming of the classroom space (w/ little to no HVAC air movement) we'd been assigned as the day's temps rose dramatically. Not to mention the three-piece suit he was wearing, which only served to further bake his dirty bod.
There was one other attendee in front of me prior to my having the opportunity to thank the husband presenter with a firm architect's handshake. Taking a gander at the presenter's brow (from over the shoulder of the colleague in front of me), I could now clearly see the beads of sweat. My heart sank for him at that moment. For all anyone would likely remember of that six-hour affair, that they'd worked so hard to pull off, was his monumental, gag-reflexing BO.
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The Bible commands God's children to glorify their heavenly father through their faith in him. How? This faith bears fruit, and that fruit promulgates good works. Therefore, it is Christ in us that's making that happen and thusly, getting all the credit.
But becoming one of God's children involves a rebirth of ourselves. And that rebirth (of the Spirit) is tied to our knowledge and then faith in the gospel of Jesus Christ. And that faith is a gift to those God elects.
When this faith is ignited within us, it is our re-birth. For our eyes are opened to just how imperfect we truly are in contrast to how perfect Jesus Christ truly is (through our understanding of him).
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You and I will rub shoulders with a handful of Andy Griffiths and Michael Landons (not his real name) throughout our lives along with many who aspire to be. And these seemingly perfect business owners, husbands, fathers, sons, brothers, friends can be awe inspiring and intimidating to behold. But, rest assured, if you track the ministry of Jesus within the gospel accounts, the Messiah didn't pay much heed to these gents. Instead, he was much more interested in those who were far from knocking life out of the ballpark.
This knowledge of Jesus is what resonated with me as a boy. For I was far, far more relatable to those men overall. In summary, I stunk. Big time.
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