...and I thought an apology might ease my sense of guilt, but that didn't work. I debated about calling this volume of the blog, "Winning and Losing." But I opted for the title that expressed how I felt.
In the last week, three teams that I give-a-care about all lost their big games. For each of them, I had high hopes and expectations that they should win. But alas, it was not to be. Two Sundays ago, the Houston Dynamo lost the MLS Cup (1-nil) to those left-coast Galaxies. (I even wore orange.) On Thanksgiving night, my Aggies did not prevail against you-know-who, and on Saturday, Klein Oak (my high school alma mater) lost to some school from Dallas (ugh).
Needless to say I'm a competitive guy. The first two losses were pretty tough. By Saturday, I was in a tryptophan stupor and the high school loss was like throwing salt on a dead horse (sic-mixed metaphors).
Well, to compound the angst, I got into it on Facebook after replying to a thread by someone that casts his lot with the burnt orange. His original post was hyperbolic rhetoric against the good Ags, and I innocently replied to his post about how his side obviously paid the zebras. I expected a reply, and I got one. At that point, it was time to stop. I was going to walk away having expressed an appropriate amount of displeasure toward the outcome of the match and his initial statement.
But he egged me on, and I bit down on the hook like a starving fish. That's when I opened up a can of rhetorical whup-ass that I wish I had kept in the pantry.
Amongst other things, he postulated that some traditions that I hold dear were "stupid" and that they should be changed. That made me hot. I retorted by casting aspersions on his knowledge of both school's traditions and made an accusation that he had no voice in the conversation since he attended neither school. Now I was feeling righteous! So I posted again attacking his original post.
Unfortunately when words are spoken (typed) under the influence of frustration or anger (or tryptophan) they often lead to misunderstanding. What I believe he took aversion to was the manner in which I approached my below-the-belt attacks. Rather than sticking to the issue at hand, I mentioned that he did not attend either school.
In war, there is collateral damage. And that's what happened in my righteous posting. By picking up on words he used about his own education, he took my attack (I think) as a personal affront to his intelligence and/or motivation at the collegial level. That was not my intention. But my rhetorical attack was pretty hard. For that misunderstanding, I am deeply grieved. And it is probably the reason I sense the need to write this article.
I'd like to defend what I wrote, but I won't because it wouldn't be right. And because I wish I hadn't written it.
He responded, rightly so, with a good old fashion guilt trip by projecting onto me the expectations of a religious leader, not that I've ever tried to preach to him or pretend I'm something other than what I am. But it was a well placed below-the-belt retort that hit its mark. (I'm feeling better now.)
I made my casual "sorry." And I meant it. But it seems that more can be learned by this encounter.
I'm thinking about my words and Blessed James' admonition that with the tongue we both bless our God and curse our brother who is made in the image of God. Well, it's not just the tongue anymore, now it's also the fingertips and typing keys. But these have the same result, to tear down and hurt those who have hurt us.
Will we ever get it right? When God speaks a word, he creates, he loves, he comforts, he disciplines.
When man speaks, he can berate, tear down, and destroy the creatures of God.
My anthropology is not so low that I don't believe that by the grace of God we cannot find that divine image in each of us that might help us to share in creating, loving, and comforting one another.
The first step toward this is to look back at our sins, and ask, "What should I have done there," in place of what I did do? So, I think I'll go back and look at that post, and ask, What would Jesus say to this? When confronted with an antagonistic perspective how would he respond?
My final thought:
I'm glad we're not playing the longhorns (there I said it) for another 6 years. It will give me time to think about how to deal with trash talk.
Then maybe I could say, "I did something good."
No comments:
Post a Comment