WASHINGTON — I have officially called off my boycott of the National Football League (NFL). I do not care how many felons or frotteurs play the game. Now there is Tim Tebow to redeem it. He can pass and run. He inspires his teammates. He inspires many returning fans like me. I shall follow him through the playoffs and maybe even next year as the season resumes anew. He is an American original — and he is controversial. I am for him. No, I shall not fall for the NFL’s gimmicks. You will not see me wearing a jersey of the Denver Broncos for whom Tebow plays. I shall not even buy a coffee mug. In fact, I think I shall add up how much money I could spend on Tebow paraphernalia and donate it to charity. Tebow inspires his teammates and now he has inspired me. I first noticed Tebow when he won a string of games in the last minutes. It was phenomenal, but then I seemed to have brought him bad luck for he lost the next three games. Then came the Denver Broncos’ surprising upset of the Pittsburgh Steelers last Sunday. The Steelers played a great game behind the two-time Super Bowl winner, Ben Roethlisberger (himself an almost convicted felon who has now confessed his errors and mended his ways), but Tebow outplayed him. Roethlisberger did lead his team to an overtime Sunday. That worried me for I had already sat through hours of play and one of my complaints with the NFL is that the games are the closest thing we can experience on earth to eternity. Yet the Broncos won the flip of the coin. They elected to receive. And on the first play from scrimmage Tebow threw a pass to Demaryius Thomas (note the noble Roman name) and Demaryius outran the desperate Steeler secondary for eighty yards and a touchdown. Good show, fellows! The whole play took 11 seconds, the briefest overtime in NFL history. Then came the grounds for controversy. Tebow after congratulating his Roman receiver knelt on one knee and thanked God. His recollections convey the essential Tebow. “When I saw him scoring,” recalled the victorious quarterback, “first of all, I just thought, ‘Thank you, Lord.’ Then, I was running pretty fast, chasing him—like I can catch up to D.T! Then I just jumped into the stands. First time I’ve done that. That was fun. Then, got on a knee and thanked the Lord again and tried to celebrate with my teammates and the fans.” Tebow is very pious, very humble (“like I can catch up to D.T.”), and a lot of fun (“that was fun”). How can anyone dislike him? He runs charities in the offseason. He invites sick children to games. He does all manner of good deeds. He is the son of missionaries and he takes his religion seriously. This appears to be a problem for some players in the NFL and other concerned Americanos. Some have uttered insults at him over his religion and in fact over his general good-guy deportment. Why should this be? One can strut and perform the most lurid dances on the field. One can demonstrate on behalf of various controversial causes. Nary an eye is batted. Yet, a show of piety to one’s creator is deemed an offense. By the way, Tebow was not the only person on the field expressing a prayer. I saw a fellow from the Steelers make the Sign of the Cross repeatedly, and after an exceptionally good pass I dare say Roethlisberger raised his hands to the heavens. So what is so outrageous about a pause for a prayer of thanksgiving? I predict that Tebow is in for some serious controversy in the weeks and years ahead. Some say he does not deserve his fame. That he is an unorthodox passer and a terrible ball handler. I do not know what they think they know. He is as strong as a bull and his running and passing wins games. Yet his real problem is the religious angle. Many Americans do not like it. They prefer their own gestures of false piety. They need our prayers.
Continued here:
Thank You, God, for Tim Tebow
I loved J.P.’s piece on Stephen Glass today. Stephen regularly played in a card game I also frequented, with a number of youngish conservative rising stars. He was indeed very, very likable. He also was the best bluffer I’ve ever known. As I remember it, he regularly won the games. Yet even then, despite so often being bluffed by him in cards, I entirely believed even his most far-fetched stories, like the ones about the drug-and-nasty-sex-addled young Republicans at CPAC, because he was just so darn good at making you believe him, in person or in print. The degree of dishonesty in his stories, and the number of people and good organizations that he hurt, was stupendous. Let him write fiction all he wants, but please, keep him away from the law. J.P. Freire really captures it all in this sentence: “But what’s even more damning is that Glass has found yet another area where he can cling to the status of victim, skate along the hard-earned reputations of others, and force a showdown, not about justice, but about himself.”
See more here:
J.P. on Target, on Glass
This day after Christmas was spent trying to “powerdown” from a very keyed-up couple of days. It boggles my mind that some folks step into the day after Christmas with the energy to keep up with headlines , or to go shopping or plunge right back into blogging , or head to the movies (that’s where my husband and son are, right now) but for me — and perhaps it’s because I’m an introvert — the day after Christmas requires the downtime, and the embrasure of a little silence. Over at the Patheos landing page, I invite you to join me in unwrapping a gift of silence : In such a silence, if you have turned off the television and tempted your child away from his games with a good book, you can hear other things: the chatter and call of cardinals who have found the birdseed; the crack of a log in the fire; hot coffee being poured into a cup; the ticking of your last non-digital clock; the rhythmic breathing of tired child (or parent) who has dozed while reading; the soft thud of a book sliding to the floor. You can hear life, forced into a slow-down; life less deliberate; life lived as it was for centuries, before the busy inventiveness of the last five decades: life acquiescent to uncontrollable nature, and hunkered-down. We have allowed silence to become a gift forgotten, one we only consent to unwrap when all of our alternative bows and strings have been unraveled, and our diversions have been utterly played out. Our inability to be silent puts our minds and our souls at a disadvantage, because it robs us of the ability to wonder, and if we are not wondering at the impossible perfection of the world in its creation—if we are not wondering at spinning atoms and Incarnations—then we are lost to humility, and to experiencing gratitude. And, without gratitude, we cannot develop a reasoned capacity for joy. It was originally written for First Things , but you can read it all here . Excuse me, now, while I head back to my couch and my silence and my new Kindle Touch , which is loaded with the Confessions of Saint Augustine and the delightful freebie Right Ho, Jeeves! . You all were exactly right . I totally love this brilliant little e-reader, and don’t know why I resisted for so long! Read more from the original source: Have Yourself a Silent Little PostChristmas
More:
Have Yourself a Silent Little PostChristmas
From the supercommittee :
WASHINGTON, D.C. –
