5-April-2004

WELCOME to Mark's Ark, the world's only online Christian humor column to wonder why the most popular way to wander is "aimlessly."  Is it possible to wander purposefully?  And where does moseying fit in?

A PERSONAL NOTE
As most of you have guessed, I don't technically earn a living as a writer. If you want to be a stickler about it, I technically don't actually make any money at all by writing.  This is why when my employer tells me I need to go to China for a couple of weeks every few years, I pack up my bags and go.  They assure me it's nothing personal.  Anyway, the next issue of Mark's Ark may be a little bit late (like this one).  On the plus side, if you throw me in the middle of a billion people or so I'm bound to notice a few things and have something to say about them.  You'll hear from me in about a month with a special Mark's Ark written "on location" in China.

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APPEARANCES CAN BE DECEIVING

Do you remember the feeling you used to get as a child when you'd wake up in the middle of the night and think you saw something in your room that didn't belong?  I remember lying in bed, confused, trying to figure out what that figure over in the corner was.  Was it a person crouching down?  A monster?  Maybe it was a new bicycle that my parents were giving me as a surprise and wanted me to see it first thing in the morning.  Generally, the mystery turned out to be an odd shadow or a piece of clothing draped over a chair, but the confusion and adrenaline were always real.  This has happened to me a few times as an adult, but it seldom causes much excitement.  I guess as adults we're conditioned that there is a logical explanation for everything (except for why so many people in radio commercials are always yelling at us).

This sort of thing is not limited to being sleepy.  I have been a big University of Kentucky basketball fan since Kyle Macy was pulling on his socks at the free-throw line.  A few years ago UK went to the NCAA Final Four three years in a row, winning the title in 1996 and 1998.  In 1999 I knew it was unrealistic to expect another great year, but they progressed to the "Elite Eight" and Michigan State stood in the way of a fourth Final Four trip in a row.  The game began early on a Sunday evening.  We left home for church around halftime, but I had a plan.

Because the game would end after church began, nobody in the sanctuary would know the outcome of the game when the service ended.  Theoretically I could get out of there without finding out who won.  I was recording the second half of the game on the VCR and wanted to watch the second half in ignorant bliss.  As the church service unfolded, I confess I was completely unable to pay attention to our pastor.  I started thinking about the previous seasons.  Each time UK made the Final Four or won the title, people would honk car horns and light fireworks immediately afterward (I live in Lexington).  I started hoping I wouldn't hear any honking outside because it would spoil my surprise.  Then I considered that if I didn't hear honking it would mean that UK had lost the game, so either way I would probably figure out the result right there in church.  I chose to hope to hear honking.

The service ended and I bolted, avoiding eye contact with everyone just in case they had heard the score.  As I hustled to the car I simultaneously hoped not to hear any honking so I wouldn't know the result of the game, and desperately strained to hear honking because it would mean they had won.  I heard nothing, and began to sense that the result was not good.  However, because you just never know, I put a tape in the car's cassette player (a radio station might have revealed the score) and turned it up, thinking I could drown out any celebration noises and still make it home to watch the game.  I was temporarily insane.

As we left the parking lot I realized that even if the game had gone into overtime it certainly had to be complete.  I also realized that there was simply no way I would have missed the honking if UK had won, so they had lost the game.  And then it happened.  Above a nearby subdivision came the brilliant, pyrotechnic flash of a lone, huge firework.  I smiled and a rush of adrenaline surged through me.  I turned and told my wife, "UK's going back to the Final Four."  I had become so convinced UK had lost that I no longer cared that my surprise was ruined.

When we got home I hurriedly rewound the tape and started to watch the second
half.  UK trailed, but stayed close.  I couldn't wait to see how and when they pounced on Michigan State to win the game.  The deficit stayed pretty consistent as the time wound down under five minutes.  This was going to be good.  Two minutes remained but the deficit stayed around eight points.  I told Laura, "Wow, they must hit three or four three-pointers right here at the end."  As the clock ticked under thirty seconds UK was still behind and I considered that UK may have lost the game.  Crestfallen, I watched the clock tick to zero.  I will never know if the fireworks were from an actual Michigan State fan who lived in Lexington, or if it was a UK fan who said, "Well, we lost the game but that's no reason to waste a good firework."  Laura mostly was able to hide her amusement as I sat bewildered on the couch and my adrenaline slowly fell back to normal.

Let me share one other quick example of this kind of experience.  A few years ago Laura and I were exiting a church after an evening Christmas musical.  As we walked toward the car my eyes turned upward where a huge cross spanned a third of the sky and was surrounded by a dull, glowing light.  Once again adrenaline surged through my body.  My breathing stopped.  A voice in the back of my mind simply stated, "He's back."  For that moment I was convinced that Jesus had returned.  I then realized that there was a large cross on the top of the church, and a landscaping spotlight was simply casting a huge shadow of the cross against a low layer of clouds.  As I reflect on that moment, I am pleased that my first reaction was excitement and not fear, and that once I realized it was just a shadow I felt disappointment and not relief.  I don't think it says anything special about me in particular, but maybe the experience gave me the tiniest glimpse of what we have to look forward to.

The jacket hanging on your chair will never turn into a monster at night and UK will never go to the 1999 Final Four, but Jesus is going to return.  When those fireworks begin they're going to mean something.