A portrait of Seattle Seahawks head coach Pete Carroll
He’s a portrait of greatness. He’s picture of youth (even though he’s as old as I am). This gum-chewing shepherd of gridiron sheep is a passionate “prince of a man.”
He’s a cheerleading coach on the sidelines of life. He inspires with focus and hope. Another’s potential is the gift Pete unwraps. He’s a Sherpa on steep slippery slopes.
He is worthy of honor as he now departs from a city that claimed him with pride. He’s a Carroll that often brought joy to our world. But his leaving feels like someone died.
Life is precious, sacred, blest from the womb to final rest. God is in a child’s first breath or a grandpa facing death.
Special needs autistic son. Crippled daughter who can’t run. Those impaired in speech or sight. Those whose hearing isn’t right.
Those who can’t recall their name. Those with damage to their brain. Those in prison, addicts too. Those who think their options few.
Each life matters. Each has worth. Everyone on God’s green earth. Life is precious, sacred, blest from the womb to final rest.
* God’s green earth is a phrase I have borrowed from my neighbor and friend Michael Medved. This syndicated radio talk show host has a passion for caring for creation.
The Boys in the Boat book and movie provide us with spiritual insights on life
My wife and I crossed the finish line of 2023 by going to see “The Boys in the Boat.” Given the fact that the theater wasn’t far from the University of Washington campus and on the same weekend as the UW football team won the right to compete in the national championship, the atmosphere was electric.
Seeing the movie on the big screen reminded me of a lazy Saturday morning ten years ago when I had coffee with Daniel Brown (the author of the book on which the movie is based). My motivation in getting together with him was to have him sign a rowing poster for my brother. Marc had been a coxswain for the Seattle Pacific University crew team. During our visit, Daniel described the lengthy and complicated process it would take should his story ever make it to the big screen.
My brother’s experience at our alma mater was my first introduction to the sport of rowing. I was amazed at the arduous training and strict discipline required to compete at the collegiate level. And I was so proud of my kid brother who ran the five miles and worked out each day at 5am with his oarsmen. Although coxswains don’t need to be as physically fit as the rowers, Marc joined his team in their daily regimen in order to earn their respect. As a result of his willingness to endure the torturous training with them, they willingly took direction from his 5’6” 130 pound frame during competitions.
My next exposure to rowing came four decades later. I discovered that Carl Lovsted, one of the members of Mercer Island Covenant Church where I was pastor, had won a bronze medal in the 1952 Summer Olympics with the University of Washington four-man crew team. After some coaxing, Carl finally showed me his medal. I was impressed by his humble “aw-shucks” attitude toward such an amazing achievement.
And then in 2013 my wife and I read Daniel Brown’s just-released book about the UW rowing team winning a gold medal in the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin. After hearing the author speak, I asked for the privilege of meeting with him over coffee. Not only did Daniel arrange his schedule to meet with me, he directed me to the daughter of Joe Rantz about whom “The Boys in the Boat” is primarily concerned. Judy Rantz Willman willingly accepted my invitation to talk about her celebrated father at the retirement center where I was the chaplain.
A few years later when my friend Carl died, his family asked me to officiate the memorial service at the Conibear Rowing House at the University of Washington campus. I could not have been more honored. Directly above me was the Husky Clipper (in which the 1936 team had won Olympic gold) suspended from the ceiling.
My various exposures to rowing over the past five decades proceeded to play out on the walls of my memories as I watched George Clooney’s brilliant motion picture on the big screen. As I observed the themes in the film of overcoming adversity, self-denial and teamwork I couldn’t help but recognize similar themes I’ve read about and preached from in the New Testament.
In the Gospel accounts of Jesus and his disciples, we find another group of “boys in a boat.” Like the Husky crew of 1936, those first century fishermen struggled with individualism, pride and failure. Like the ragtag wannabees that UW coach Al Ulbrickson transformed into a winning team, the boys in the boat in which Jesus invested were an unreliable group of hotheads. They sought personal glory. And similar to Bobby Mock, the UW coxswain, the rabbi from Nazareth called out self-destructive tendencies and coached them to deny self that they might discover unity. Refusing to simply let them look out for themselves, Jesus repeatedly provided a rhythm of oneness He himself modeled.
In the book and in the movie, the Husky crew team experienced a unity that propelled them to victory much to Hitler’s chagrin. In the New Testament version of “the boys in the boat,” Jesus’ crew overcame their ego-driven personalities in a show of humility and service. Their devotion and discipline culminated in a movement that would shape the values of justice and morality that continue to be embraced two millennia later. It’s called Christianity.
The Biblical story of the Flight into Egypt revisited in terms of current events
Against the backdrop of bloodshed and the unconscionable violence in Palestine, a refugee couple with a newborn baby follow the dictates of those in charge to move south. And so they do.
From the Gaza Strip they escape across the border to Egypt. From the land promised to Abraham’s children in ancient time, they move to a country historically associated with brutal bondage and cruelty.
This flight into Egypt is like the exodus in reverse. Running from sure death with their infant son’s future at stake, this weary frightened twosome trudge toward an unknown destination with their infant son in tow.
This flight would prove to be anything but smooth. Turbulence (in the form of terror) would take its toll. From the little town of Bethlehem in the West Bank of Israel to the sunbaked banks of the Nile in Egypt, the young family of three fled sure death.
Trusting only in the God they worship, they abandoned the security they’ve known and embraced a hope they could not see. May their experience be repeated over and over again by those who flee tyrannical tyrants in search of survival.
The innkeeper in our nativity set bears a striking resemblance to me
For those Christians who follow the liturgical church year, Christmas is not just a day but a season. It’s a season that continues for a dozen days until Epiphany (January 6th). That concept is illustrated in the popular holiday song “The Twelve Days of Christmas.”
As a result, our family leaves our decorations up when many Christmas trees and wreaths are deposited curbside. Our tree remains lit. Alexa continues to play the carols and our Fontanini nativity figures remain in position at the entrance to our family room.
In our nativity scene, we have the innkeeper and his family next to the holy family in the stable. And this neighboring family bears a striking resemblance to our family. There is a husband and wife and three daughters. Like me, the innkeeper figure is mostly bald. Through the years we’ve even added a son-in-law and grandchildren.
Truth be told, the account of Christ’s nativity in the Gospel of Luke does not actually make reference to an innkeeper. But it does refer to the fact that Mary’s baby was born in a barn because there was “no room in the inn.” So, it’s fair to infer that there likely was someone who, recognizing their plight, directed Joseph and Mary to the only available shelter on his property.
The other day as I took time to ponder these plastic figures and the story they represent, I had a new insight. The person who offered the stable to the expectant couple was actually practicing a principle that the newborn baby would one day teach as an adult rabbi. In Matthew 25 Jesus acknowledges that when we care for individuals in need (the homeless, the hungry, the sick and the imprisoned) we are showing love for Him. In essence He said, “When you serve the least of these, you are serving me.”
Even before Jesus was born, the innkeeper was serving Him by serving the homeless refugee teenager who was carrying Him. He was figuratively (and literally) doing what Jesus would later call all His followers to do. And he’s not the only “innkeeper” to serve God by serving others.
This Christmas season I am thinking of a modern-day innkeeper who began a life-changing organization one hundred years ago this year. His name was Abraham Vereide. He was a Methodist pastor in Seattle who came from Norway as an immigrant in the early 1900s. Touched by the plight of the poor and disadvantaged in his adopted city, Pastor Vereide sought out local business leaders to find a tangible way to influence their community for good. And so, Goodwill Industries was begun in 1923. With $475 and a dream, Pastor Vereide rallied a group of Seattle businessmen to help provide employment, education and economic opportunities for those struggling to get by.
From the start, Seattle Goodwill collected used clothing and furnishings and hired individuals to repair and sell recycled items. Their initial motto was “Not charity but a chance.” Giving those who struggle a chance and giving used items a chance for a second life remains their mission a century later.
As an immigrant, Pastor Vereide understood the challenges of the refugee. And from the very beginning of this humanitarian organization, Seattle Goodwill has attempted to bridge the gap created by unemployment, discrimination and racial prejudice. Like the Bethlehem innkeeper, Vereide made sure those who worked with him looked out for others for Christ’s sake.
The rest of Pastor Vereide’s life was punctuated by a similar concern for others. During the economic downturn of the 1930s, he regularly met with Seattle’s mayor Arthur Langley and other city leaders. When Langley was elected Governor, he asked Pator Vereide to convene the first ever Governor’s Prayer Breakfast.
Eventually word of what was happening in the Evergreen State reached the White House. President Eisenhower called on the founder of Seattle Goodwill to created goodwill among lawmakers in Washington D.C. And, thus, the Presidential Prayer Breakfast Movement was born. Seventy years later this amazing phenomenon, that finds lawmakers from across the aisle meeting for Bible study and prayer, continues. And, oh by the way, I know about Pastor Vereide because he was the minister who performed my Norwegian grandparents’ wedding in 1921.
My Rhymes and Reasons 