I was sweating it out in an all-day preaching lab today–and let me just pause right there and say that, YES, this would probably be the most unusual lab you could ever hope to encounter. I’ll even admit to some surreal moments as I worked to deliver a full-length, “Spirit-filled” sermon that measured up to a very rigorous grading rubric… One down, three to go. I’ve preached about a dozen times in my life, with pretty much no training, so I can definitely use the practice.
Main story of this post, though: At the last minute I switched out my lame introductory illustration about a seminary president and, after Lindsay told me to “be yourself,” inserted this bit about Bill Self, which I think you’ll find fitting. Intro:
If you’re like me, you may struggle with reducing abstract truths to immediate, gritty realizations. The truth might have to hit you over the head before you “get” it.
For example, if you live around here, you probably know who Bill Self is—the coach of the Kansas Jayhawks and this year’s NCAA CHAMPIONS. And therefore you know that Bill Self must have a ton of authority and influence. He has to, right?
But what does that authority look like in action? What is Bill Self’s job description? What does an NCAA Div. 1 basketball coach do every day?
Imagine that you’re playing pickup hoops at the gym one day when you hear a yell from the sidelines. You look up and Bill Self is running toward you.
He says, “Man, I’ve been watching you play, and you have the best jump shot I’ve ever seen—also, your game is textbook. I want to you come work as an assistant coach at KU, effective immediately. My guys need to learn from you. Will you please, please come?”
As you stare at Bill Self with a huge grin on your face, his authority and influence suddenly has takes on greater reality. Now you know part of what he does: recruits assistant coaches! Suddenly Bill Self’s job as coach really matters.
That went over pretty well, except with a few bitter MU fans. So later, after I was done, I was talking with my friend and classmate, Adam. It went something like this:
Adam [with a straight face]: “So that was a cool story with Bill Self, dude. And you’re probably the guy in the story, right?”
Me [playing along]: “That’s right. I just don’t come out and say it because it would seem kind of self-exalting.”
A: “Right, I thought it was a true story. But I bet you still find a way to work it in to every message you preach.”
Me: “Absolutely I do. It was hard to turn him down, you know…but I just felt like, after going through seminary, it wouldn’t be the right thing…”
Adam: “Yeah, I see. You decided to serve God, not the Jayhawks.”
Me: “Pretty much.”
A: “So where were you playing ball when this happened?”
Me: ____
Me: “Uh, when Bill Self showed up? Uh…Um…let me think. It would have been in Lawrence…uh, in the Robinson Gym, you know, close to Allen Field House?”
A: “That’s awesome, man.”
Me: ____
Me: “I’m just kidding. You know that, right?”
A: “About where you were playing ball?…Or about the whole thing?”
Me: “The whole thing, dude.”
At that moment, Adam got kind of quiet, and I suspect he was a little embarrassed, which is frequently what happens when someone is punching you in the shoulder and trying to laugh out loud very quietly so as not to further disrupt a preaching lab. This just might have been the highlight of the whole day.
Seriouser post tomorrow…
