The One Where I Try to Make Fantasy Football Sound Important and Noble

by Ben Howard

I wish that everything in life operated like fantasy football. This is not a joke. I really want this to happen. I want to draft people from my office and get points based on what they do during the day.

I'd get 1 point every time they use the copier, 2 points every time they print something, 5 points every time they talk about how stupid that last customer was, and 10 points every time they tell me that one story, you know that one, the one they tell every time they feel the need to tell you a story.

Seriously, wouldn't this make every day better? I mean I wouldn't get anything done, but it would be so enthralling. I would spend my entire day paying attention to a world of things that I've never even attempted to pay attention to. I'd care about what people did, albeit in an entirely ridiculous and horribly unsupportive way.

This is the single greatest thing about playing fantasy football. It not only gives you an excuse to care about things that don't matter (like professional football), but it also gives you an excuse to care about thing that don't matter within that world of previous things that didn't matter (like Week 13 between St. Louis and Buffalo, go Ryan Fitzpatrick!).

I promise you, there will be a random Sunday afternoon where I will be paying close, almost obsessive attention to a Carolina Panthers game when they're 4-10 and not even people in Charlotte care about them anymore. And I will be doing all of this so that I can win bragging rights over a guy I only see once a year at our fantasy football draft. And I'll get my name on a plaque. Woo! Plaque!

I know it's childish. I really do, but its fun and I get to care about things that I don't usually care about. I like having a reason to care. I like feeling engaged. I think that's the reason I love sports in general. They give me a reason to care.

In sports, everything is so naked. The goal of the game is to win and the consequences of any given outcome are known at the beginning. It's easy to be invested because it's easy to know the point of the game. Sports are honest like that. Everything is raw and even sometimes emotional because everything is at the surface. Everything is open.

And that's why I care. Because I know what it means.

I know it's difficult to be that open with people. It's difficult and it can be terrifying to trust someone so much that you don't hedge your hopes and dreams; that they know what a win looks like and what a loss looks like in your world. But I think that's what real community is.

Real community is when we are so open with each other that we can't help but be invested in each others success and failures. It's when we know the goals of the others and we want to see them get there. We want to root for them and encourage them and maybe even yell at them when it seems like they're about to give up, and since they are in our living rooms and not halfway across the country like some meaningless football player, they can actually hear us and it might actually do some good.

Maybe we need more fans and the first step to getting more fans is telling them what game we're playing in the first place.

But that takes a lot of trust. And it's really difficult.

Part of me wishes I could end this post by telling you what a win looks like to me. Part of me wants to tell you my hopes and dreams and wishes and aspirations. Part of me wants you to root for me.

Another part of me is terrified to be that open, and for tonight at least, that part will win out, but I hope that's not always the case.

Peace,

Ben

P.S. I'd love to hear your comments. If I'm off base, tell me. If you think I'm on to something, try and add to it. There are a lot of you reading this (I see the numbers) and I want you to be a part of this community. All of us writing here are just throwing ideas against the wall and seeing what sticks, but when something really resonates we want to know. I want to know. I hope to hear from you!

When he isn't trying to make fantasy football sound like something vaguely inspiring, Ben spends his time trying to decide whether he should start Antonio Brown or DeAngelo Williams. This isn't a joke. Someone needs to tell him what to do before Sunday. A lot of pride is riding on this. You can follow him on Twitter @BenHoward87 or email him at benjamin.howard87 [at] gmail.com.

We Are So Sure

by Amanda Taylor

I think someone just decided not to be with me because I am a Christian.

I feel certain it wasn’t my WWJD bracelet. It wasn’t my weatherworn journal/bible combo that I take to (insert hip local coffee shop), my cross necklace, fish bumper sticker, Chick-fil-A sandwich, or compulsion to remind folks Jesus is my homeboy on my super hip loose-fit v-neck tee.

It wasn’t any of those things because those are the things in life that make me want to punch a baby. I can’t wear my faith proudly around like a shiny banner of joy and peace, because I’m too busy silently brooding about how nonsensical Christianity is today.

And brood I do. I analyze. I watch. I listen. I contemplate. I assess. I obsess. I’m so engulfed in this cycle of frustration and fatigue that whoever responds to this fresh break-up of mine with an “everything happens for a reason” is not safe from a sincere and biting face-punch.

Not babies though, thank goodness. They can’t talk yet.

As I sit here, I can’t tell what hurts more: the fact that this beautiful, wonderful person is walking away, or that my own brothers and sisters in Christ have caused it. I have caused it. For all my cynicism, he knows how important faith is to me. He’s seen through the cold exterior of skepticism to a meek and seeking heart, one that needs Jesus. And it terrifies him.

Why?

It’s probably not an encouraging sign that he kept calling it “the religion thing”. “Back to the religion thing.” Yes, yes, let’s discuss that dumb thing called religion that has ostracized you, dumbfounded you, belittled you, told you that you weren’t good enough for someone. That religion thing. Yes, that’s my thing. Let’s talk about it.

I am no longer sure how many of us think eating a chicken sandwich is a meaningful way to follow Christ. It depends on which day you ask me. I’m inclined to believe most Christians don’t think tokens or phrases or buildings are the way to heaven, but I do worry that too many of us think we know the way with far too much certainty.

We know what Jesus thinks, we know what God wants, we know what it means for society and the way we must govern ourselves throughout the world. We are so sure.

Christians have had to continue to draw new lines in order to make sense out of the great mysteries of our Lord and Creator. The Great I Am. As we simplify the complexities of the good book into chewable bites, we find ourselves comfortably arranging our faith around these tokens and routines and phrases that provide us comfort and sensibility as they help us identify. Good. Bad. Me. You. Me. Other. In. Out.

This story that Christians are telling resonates far and deep into society, but we’re shielding ourselves from the repercussions of the tale. Life is HARD. It is hard. But God is supposed to make sense of it, to explain it, and to make it better. The harsh and acerbic reality of our lives is boxed up and wrapped in pretty fish-decorated, God-approved paper and passed around the world giving the “gift of Christ” to those in need. But what do they find when they open it? 

What is so frustrating is that this guy, my dear friend, doesn’t hate me, or Christians, or faith. He’s just not sure about it all because the story he’s hearing is one full of mistrust, and rules, and hierarchy. He’s an outsider. He’s afraid he’ll be a disappointment to me for not being sure enough.  

We are so sure. 

(Christianity) is not the sort of thing anyone would have made up.  It has just that queer twist about it that real things have.  So let us leave behind all these boys’ philosophies – these over-simple answers.  The problem is not simple and the answer is not going to be simple either.  – C.S. Lewis

 

You can follow Amanda on Twitter @tayloram03.

A Swiftian View of Relationships

by Jonathan Harrison

Unbeknownst to our readers, yesterday kicked off the first annual "Taylor Swift Week" here at On Pop Theology. Over the next few days, your favorite writers of On Pop Theology will discuss our favorite Taylor Swift songs through the lens of upper-middle class, semi-cynical, left-leaning (except for Josh), kind of educated, twenty-something Christian men.

Ben has yet to OK this, so Taylor Swift week may not last past today. But for now. Day 2.

Mercifully, I don't listen to the radio, so the subject of Ben's post yesterday is lost on me. In the realms of pop music, my favorite songstress--Miley--unabashedly entered her Billy Idol phase two weeks ago, so I have no plans to begin listening to the radio until Miley stops smoking salvia or Lady Gaga writes another decent song. I'm guessing neither is going to happen anytime soon.

Between you and me, I've only heard one Taylor Swift song. That song happens to be Taylor Swift's cover of the Wham! Christmas classic "Last Christmas". The mere fact that Taylor Swift covered Wham! probably opened up a worm hole in the universe that destroyed a peaceful and scientifically advanced civilization. 

No one should cover Wham!, ever. But it happened, and high school history teachers should teach about this occurrence so that future generations will not repeat the mistakes of their elders. Oh who am I kidding. Future generations are fueling this madness.

If you're wondering what this whole post has to do about Jesus, I have no clue. I was going to type something about how a Swiftian view of relationships isn't healthy, and how we all invest way too much in the opposite sex when it comes to our happiness. Society seems to feed off the notion that relationships = happiness so much that someone can write 15 different versions of the same song, and still be absurdly, absurdly popular as an artist.

Of course, all pop songs resemble one another in a way, so you can't fault someone for writing something that sells and sells well. Still, I wonder why, as a society, we're so fixated on who's dating who, and when and why they break up, especially when it normally has nothing to do with us. 

I also wonder why society tells us that we can't be happy unless we have a significant other, but as someone with a significant other, I might be a little hypocritical making that judgment.

Anyways. Can't anyone just, you know, be good to Taylor Swift so she'll have something positive to write about? All this negativity I'm not experiencing is bringing me down. You can do this Taylor. Be strong.

Jonathan Harrison is not really sure what he just wrote has a point. Sorry Ben. This will probably adversely affect hits for a few months. He also read a tweet last week that said "Hitler had millions of followers; Jesus only had twelve", so if you happen to follow @jonateharrison on twitter, please unfollow him ASAP.

Also Libranding. 

Father's Day Card

Today, a guest post in the aftermath of Father's Day by HJ.  In light of my classes this semester, focused in Jeremiah and Job, it was hard to read this without seeing how it often applies to our complex and intertwined relationship to God.  There's probably more to explore there, but I'll let it speak for itself.

Peace,

Ben

------------

by HJ

This card is always difficult for me to write and this year is no exception.  I don’t know what it would take for us to have some sort of breakthrough after which it would be easy to coexist under the same roof.  When I think about his role as my father I think things like, “He always provided food, clothing, shelter and healthcare for us,” “He didn’t abandon us,” “He never cheated on mom.”  

But that’s so basic; just thanking him for what he didn’t do rather than what he did.  Granted, I am aware of how many children are raised without such things.  Hell, I’m raising two kids myself who couldn’t claim such basics.  It’s just that last night after I got a little tipsy I opened up to a friend about my relationship with my dad.  I described it as “strained and passive-aggressive.”  He replied, “Usually when someone says that about her father, she follows it with, ‘and that’s why I’m a stripper.’”  Very funny.

But seriously, I’m jealous of anyone who would not describe their relationship with their father as complicated.  He wants my approval, I can see that clearly, but what do I do?  How can I affirm him and nurture our relationship in ways that are authentic and honest.  The fact is that beyond the basics he has been rather selfish.  

The best thing he could do to get a ‘Best Dad Ever’ card from me: treat my mom like a lady; show her more respect.  Hurting her has always hurt me.  Some of my earliest memories are of making sure she was okay after I knew he had upset her.  I take on their issues even now as a twenty-five-year-old woman.  And I love him, I really do, and I want so many good things for him, just as I know he does for me.  

And that’s where I began with the card.  He has always been the one to encourage me to go for my dreams and to tell me that I can do anything.  I went on to write about how he drops everything to come help me when my car breaks down or I have some other immediate need no matter what sacrifice is necessary.  See?  He’s not all bad.  I just wish, I really, truly wish that I could write him a ‘best dad ever’ card and mean it.  Maybe next year, because I cannot stop hoping that next year by some miracle that could be possible.