His statement caused me to think about the condition of our nation today. As I consider the data regarding the perceptions, values, behavior, and dreams of Americans, especially younger Americans, it seems clear that while we love the remaining freedoms and benefits of living in the United States, many citizens lack a real relationship with this nation and thus rebel against its rules and traditions. We are eager to take advantage of what’s available but are substantially less willing to sacrifice and invest for the good of the nation. The “common good” is a foreign concept to many Americans. Despite many politically correct speeches about “community,” “sharing,” “serving,” “tolerance,” and sensitivity, there often seems to be more lip service to bonding with America than behavior that supports it.

Think about the education our children receive these days. Gone are stalwart classes such as Civics or practices such as saying the pledge of allegiance or singing the national anthem. Perhaps in your area many community organizations that fostered a pro-country attitude or worldview have receded or closed down. Turn on the television or radio and you may encounter a mainstream media that seems more intent on challenging America’s foundations and heart than helping to build a sense of national spirit. Even in this year’s presidential campaign, when several candidates have spoken movingly about their love for our country, the response was to have their motives questioned, their personal lives attacked, and their sentiments dismissed.

I wonder how much longer the United States can withstand such a deficit of investment in upholding the foundations of our country, and thinking about the meaning of and commitment to the common good. And it is concerning that the two youngest generations of Americans seem to view society’s rules as barriers to overcome rather than legacies of love and wisdom.

As supporters and beneficiaries of those standards and historic commitments, I believe that America’s Christians have a special role to play in defending, conveying, and strengthening the foundations of our country.

Am I the only one who worries about our fading sense of loyalty to and connection with our republic? Do you sense that we have a problem regarding our individual relationships with the United States? How well do you think we, as Christians, are adequately protecting, explicating, and restoring the foundations of the U.S.? What else could we do? What have you done that you are proud of in this regard?

Unfortunately, I find it difficult to read when conversational interviews occur nearby at a loud volume, so I was intermittently dragged into the content of the program. The segment that distracted me the most was the program’s farewell to curmudgeonly commentator Andy Rooney. I heard his responses to several questions. One of his statements struck me.

“A writer’s job is to tell the truth,” said Mr. Rooney.

I will not delve into the irony of that statement emanating from a program that, to my mind, is one of the most flagrant transgressors of that very sentiment. But Mr. Rooney’s words are well-taken, regardless of the source. A writer is an educator, and an educator has a responsibility to convey truth in order to advance people’s well-being.

Perhaps this hit me so hard because of my recent stop at a local bookstore. Like most authors, I am drawn to bookstores. As my wife will attest, a “quick stop” at a bookshop is 30 minutes; a more typical visit lasts well beyond an hour. During last week’s experience I was blown away by the sheer volume of pabulum and outright lies being sold to the public. Volume after volume, especially in areas concerning politics, history, religion, sociology, culture, arts, and parenting – the subjects which I perused at length – conveyed distortions that would be laughable if not for the fact that millions of ill-advised people innocently embrace those half-truths and full-on lies.

Of course such a criticism is difficult to sustain these days. Where there is no absolute moral or spiritual truth that we universally or even generally accept, then one man’s truth is no better or worse than any other man’s truth, as long as he firmly embraces it. Mr. Rooney’s statement needs to be updated for today’s world: “A writer’s job is to tell his truth” or perhaps “his version of the truth.” Consequently one could argue that a reader’s job these days is simply to consider the various truth versions available, identify which one she likes the most, and own it.

I would like to give Mr. Rooney the benefit of the doubt and believe that he really meant what he said, that his words could be taken at face value. He comes from a generation that still generally contends there are absolute truths that exist whether people acknowledge and accept them or not. Sadly, that perspective is losing ground faster than we realize. And that rapid and seemingly unrestrained redefinition of truth is a sad commentary on the depth, engagement, and influence of the Church today.

Armed with this iron-clad guarantee of salvation, most believers think they can then work on becoming a “good Christian” at their leisure. This effort usually entails attending church, donating money, praying, reading the Bible at home, and living a mostly-moral life. Protestants, warned by Reformed theologians about the insidious trap of confusing the merits of personal works with the gift of God’s grace, blindly accept the notion that their acts of religious engagement and spiritual commitment done after their prayer of confession are simply icing on the cake that win them extra “jewels in your crown.”

Of course, the idea that good behavior is laudable but unnecessary in light of how eternal judgment works is utterly wrong. Jesus did not die an unjust and excruciating death on the cross just so people could get a free ride into Heaven. In fact, Jesus’s death was not so much about keeping us out of Hell as much as it was designed to stimulate an intimate, life altering relationship with us that initiates our journey to eternal joy in God’s presence. (It’s fascinating – but culturally consistent – to witness how American Christians also mistakenly imagine life in Heaven as an opportunity to have a self-satisfying, unrestricted pleasure romp in the afterlife. However, that is not what God promises or how the Bible portrays our possible relocation to Heaven. Our presence in Heaven, like our time on earth, is meant to be about God’s joy, not ours, even though we will undoubtedly experience unparalleled ecstasy. The joy we experience will come from giving Him pleasure and from the personally unwarranted privilege of being in His wonderful presence.)

I understand why many preachers avoid passages such as those in James (1:22-27; 2:12-26; 4:7-10) which extol the role of good behavior. But of course the context is not that such behavior makes us more loveable or redeemable; it simply demonstrates that there has truly been a change of heart toward God, life, and people. American Christians radically undervalue the worth of the spiritual fruit that reflects their maturation and intimacy with Christ.

Jesus proclaimed that salvation was available to all people, but He also noted that most people would not accept God’s offer of salvation through grace alone. The research in Maximum Faith suggests that full-life transformation is something that few will experience because it demands that we surrender everything and submit every aspect of ourselves to God in order to be truly victorious. In a culture like ours, cheap grace is a whole lot more appealing.

I am a big believer in consciously developing your worldview in order to (hopefully) reflect God’s view of the world. But I wonder how many times a day the worldview I have embraced serves as an excuse to ignore uncomfortable viewpoints – that is, a set of attitudes that use my worldview as a reason to experience reality through a limited and self-defeating filter.

Ours is an age of sound bites and symbolism. When we hear a particular name or idea we often have an immediate response: either our defenses go up or we open up to the coming ideas based on the mental image we have of the communicator. It is a black-and-white view of the world, as if people of differing ideological or theological viewpoints lack valid ideas. So much of our screening is based on the image of the person that we possess. Wary of wasting time, we protect ourselves from ideas that we assume will clash with our own. Weary of ideological conflict, we openly entertain ideas that coincide with our own and carefully block the rest.

That moment of enlightenment reminded me of the interviews I had conducted with leaders for the Master Leaders book I’d written not long ago. One of the greatest lessons I’d gleaned from the 30 high-performance leaders interviewed for the book related to the importance of listening. I recalled that listening was ranked as the most important skill of a leader. And Ken Blanchard’s comment that you cannot listen effectively unless you’re willing to have your mind changed by what you hear caused me to reconsider how good a listener I am. (Obviously not as good as I need to be, if you’re wondering.)

Upon reflection it became obvious that one of my shortcomings was that I had limited “listening” to the process of hearing the spoken word. I had ignored the written word as communication that we listen to, as well.

After catching myself in that indefensible act of censorship, I returned to the beginning of the article by my liberal colleague and tried to read it as objectively as possible. To my surprise, he had some intriguing things to say – not necessarily views that I chose to embrace, but perspectives that were more reasonable than I would have given him credit for prior to reading the piece. Ah, another humbling moment…

There are certainly limitations as to how far you can take this argument. For instance, the time crunch is a reality: you simply cannot devote time to listen to every nuance of every competing argument on every topic that intersects with you life. You would be deluged with information, mired in continual debates, and never get anything done. (Which, as some wags might point out, qualifies you to be a member of Congress.) But I wonder how much wisdom I miss by screening out too much of the content that I assume will be of no value based solely on cues such as the leanings of the author or the location of an article. Are there helpful insights to absorb by hearing from people who are ideologically distant from you? Does selective listening, efficient though it may seem, produce diminishing returns?

I find such simplicity and directness in Mr. Hill’s response unusual and refreshing. He is a 7-time All-Star himself, a man of great talent and someone seeking to become a champion in his sport before he retires. Imagine such a person admitting that he has been so dominated by his opponent he doesn’t even know how to distinguish good from bad! If only we had more leaders who were willing to be so honest.

How tiresome it is listening to leaders pontificate on things about which they know nothing. During my media training for publicity tours, I’ve been taught that you should never say you don’t know the answer to a question posed by an interviewer. The standard ploy is to provide an answer to something you do know, even if it does not address the question that was asked. I have used that strategy on a number of occasions, but every time I do so I become uncomfortable with the practice: after all, it is meant to portray me in a way that perhaps I do not deserve to be portrayed. It may be clever, but is it honest? Is it better to be seen as knowing something when you don’t, or to admit to ignorance and be seen as – well, ignorant?

This reminds me of a quote from George Orwell: “In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act.” Are we living in an era where we need many more leaders who will engage in such “revolutionary” behavior, regardless of the consequences? Do we need to train followers to embrace such revolutionary acts because of the benefits of having leaders who choose integrity over self-preservation?

Including a novel in the line was not the only unusual thing about this book. All of our books include new research that relates to the point of the book. We conducted such research for Matt, which I was originally slate to describe in the Foreword for the book. I wrote an introduction to the book, incorporating the data regarding whether and how people hear God speak, in a way that I thought might be clever enough to fit Matt’s terrific work, but it seemed flat and forced. So Matt offered to take some of the research and weave it into his story. He wound up inserting a brief chapter in which he encounters me in a restaurant and we discuss some of the research and how those findings relate to his needs. As usual, he did a great job of making something that could have been odd or awkward flow smoothly while adding value and wisdom to the unfolding narrative.
I hope you read Imaginary Jesus – and recognize the numerous and inaccurate ways in which we perceive Jesus. Let me know your thoughts about the book, and your experiences with how people think about the nature of Jesus. It’s only when they encounter the real savior that they can become free.

Davis, a Brit who has been on the PGA tour for years without a tournament victory under his belt, was battling Jim Furyk, the world’s sixth-ranked golfer, for the tournament crown and prize money. Finishing in a tie after regulation play, they entered into a sudden death playoff. On the first hole of the playoff, Davis hit a ball that went off the side of the green, down some rocks and settled on the hard sand bordering Calibogue Sound.

As Davis chipped his shot onto the green, his club grazed one of the reeds sticking out of the sand. He didn’t see it clearly because he was concentrating on his shot, but as soon as his ball rolled to a stop, he approached the tournament director and indicated that he wasn’t sure but believed his club may have touched a stray reed on his backswing. (FYI, the course rules stated that moving any object on the course other than the ball and grass receives a penalty.) The director stopped play to view a video playback and, sure enough, a reed swayed slightly as Davis’s club nicked it – so slight a tap that the movement of the reed was detectable only via slow-motion playback! Viewing it, Davis assessed himself a two-stroke penalty and, with that act of honesty, handed Furyk the victory.

It not only prevented Davis from winning his first professional tournament but also cost him $411,000 in prize money.

Think about this. Nobody but Davis saw the infraction. In fact, not even he saw it clearly – he merely suspected it may have happened. Rather than ignore the possibility of an infraction and instead win his first PGA event, he did the right thing. The honest thing. A costly thing. In an age where it seems as if every athlete is challenging authority and rules to get an edge on the competition, Davis’s behavior seems almost unsportsmanlike in its adherence to the letter of the law.

Moved by the video clip I had seen of this event the night it happened, I cruised the headlines of the major sports websites the following morning, looking for the adulation such a choice should have received. Nada. It was not evident anywhere. I had to dig through a series of articles on the ESPN site to find a recap of the moment. That article was very complimentary toward Davis, but the write-up itself was buried. Maybe that was because the tournament didn’t stack up well when compared to the importance of the NBA playoffs or other sports events happening that day. Or maybe it’s because Americans are just so dedicated to winning that we don’t care much about character.

After all the ends justify the means.

I sure hope others saw that act of honesty and courage and share it. I was blessed to be watching the sportscast that showed the clip with one of my daughters. Neither of us cares for golf (I was waiting for the Lakers highlights to be shown – they finally had a few) but I was so thunderstruck by the brief report of Davis’s choice that I replayed it for both of us to see several times. What a wonderful example for us to discuss and to watch unfold. I hope you get to see it somewhere and enjoy the beauty of someone who lives the values we claim to embrace.

I can’t stand it when people use the word “just” as the adjective in their prayers preceding what they want God to do. Why do we minimize God’s activity on our behalf? Why do we attempt to diminish the significance of what we ask Him to do? Should we just eliminate “just”? “Lord, I just want to…” “God, we just need…” “Jesus, if you would just…”

Here’s my beef. When we use that simple qualifier, we are adjusting our attitude about the significance of what we are asking God to do, making His response seem less meaningful or special. It diminishes the miracle of answered prayer and reduces the majesty of God.

People from different denominational backgrounds or theological orientations develop language patterns in their prayers, repeating certain words and phrases that are foreign to people in other religious groups. Yet, the term “just” has been incorporated into the prayers of people across theological and denominational lines. Sadly, it is one of the most consistent behaviors in American Christianity.