The Curious Case of Gary Carter

As a lifelong Atlanta Braves/Boston Red Sox fan, I have always felt that it was my sworn duty to despise Gary Carter.

Perhaps it was Carter's presence on perpetual Braves' rivals.  Maybe it was his participation in postponing the end of The Curse of the Bambino.  Possibly it was my ongoing sympathy for the plight of Bill Buckner.  More likely it was the attitude and bravado that Gary Carter displayed as a player.  Along with those other things I mentioned, of course.

Carter always came across as smug, cocky, arrogant on the field.  He just had an air that said, "I'm better than you and I know it."  The fact that his legacy was cemented as part of one of the greatest, luckiest and most arrogant cast of characters in recent baseball memory certainly didn't endear him to anyone.  Really, outside of Shea Stadium, who liked the '86 Mets?

Then Carter passed away last Thursday following a battle with cancer.  This certainly gave me no joy, but I did not mourn the loss any more than I would for anyone else who battles that horrendous plague.

That changed when I started to find out who Carter truly was.

The guy that seemed so smug on the diamond was actually a humble, Christ-centered individual who gave more than most of us knew until his untimely passing.  How arrogant could he be if he was willing to take on a coaching job at a small Division II school?  How cocky was he if the players at Palm Beach Atlantic University revered him as a coach and person, not just as a great ballplayer?

Carter's tale teaches us all a valued lesson about those that we choose to love or hate based on athletic accomplishments.  No player is purely the sum of what we see when we turn on the television on a Saturday afternoon.

Perhaps we need to learn more about a person before we decide if they are good or bad.  When choosing our heroes and our villains, it is critical that we look deeper than the flair or the flaws that we see in their game.

We all have character flaws.  Life is an effort to overcome those flaws, and most of us get the benefit of doing that without spotlights and cameras.  We cheer for jerks her are on our team--after all, they are our jerks--and point out the jerks on the opposite sideline.  That's fine during the game.

But when we identify greatness and choose our role models, we need to look deeper than the emblem on a helmet or the name on the front of the uniform.  Carter's perceived arrogance may have simply been confidence.  And it may have been the element that was needed to help his team win at any given time.

Beyond the field, Carter had character that I never realized until he was gone, because I never bothered to look.  ESPN's Tim Kurkjian shares that Carter almost never cursed on the field.  The players on those Mets teams viewed him as a "moral compass" for their lives.

Can you imagine how Doc Gooden, Darryl Strawberry and Lenny Dykstra might have acted without Carter's influence?

On a much larger scale, Carter's legacy teachers us a much more vital lesson.  The Bible says, "Judge not, or you too will be judged" (Matthew 7).  I am pretty sure that Jesus expects us not to vilify people without knowing who they really are, or to despise people because they are flawed.

I think it's safe to say that Christ would expect us to know a lot more about someone than their batting average before we lift them up as role models or degrade them as degenerates. And even if we do find them lacking, which we are bound to do, it's safe to say that Jesus would implore us not to hold them in contempt for all eternity.  That is, unless we are willing to suffer the same fate.

I hope that Gary Carter's example has reminded me of the lesson that Jesus had already taught.

Rather than Criticize, Why Not DO Something for Teachers?

In 2009, I entered into a doctoral program at Gardner-Webb University.  Let me rephrase:  I foolishly entered a doctoral program at Gardner-Webb University.

I often wish that I had never started this program, never forked over the kind of money in a vain effort to have "Dr" attached to my name.  I hate to pull a George Costanza, but it's not the program.  It's me (not that there's anything wrong with that).  I'm just not sure that it's really worth the time/money/effort that I have put into it.

At the same time, there is no question that I have learned a lot, about Christian education and education in general.  One thing I have learned (as if my wife the teacher had not already told me) is that teachers get a bum rap.  They receive nothing close to the respect that they deserve.

This article in the LA Times is proof of that:

http://www.latimes.com/news/opinion/commentary/la-oe-bondy-rating-teachers-from-the-perspective-o-20120129,0,5547815.story

Accountability is good for all of us, and teachers need to be accountable.  But you can't have true accountability when the deck is "stacked" against you.  Teachers take on the weight of the world and the responsibility of parent/police officer/role model/disciplinarian/social worker/educator.  And yes, unfortunately, the "educator" part often comes last.  That's because they have to get through all the other mess just to make an attempt to teach something.

Some people want to base everything on these "impartial" evaluations and "unbiased" test scores.  We all know that there is no such thing.  We also need to take into account the intangibles that teachers face rather than glossing over them with a random number that says they did the job or they didn't.

Since this is a blog about Christianity and not about education, let me connect this issue to what we do as church.

There is a segment of Christianity that relishes criticism of public educators and public education.  One such believer happens to be sitting in the Governor's office in South Carolina, but let' leave that one alone for now.

How many of those Christians have ever done anything to help public education?  How many of them have volunteered to read to students or mentor a child in need?  Have we ever called the school to say, "How can we help?"  How many of us have volunteered our time in a classroom just so a teacher could take a bathroom break?  And believe me, with no money for assistants, bathroom breaks are often tough to get.

I see a very clear connection between education in the church and education in the school system.  Our work with children and young people does a little to lighten the load.  We can provide one more shoulder for a needy child to cry on, one more place to watch out for children who are neglected.  We can offer meals to those who are hungry (Common Ground Food Pantry; Backpack Ministry) so that maybe their stomachs are not growling when they go to class.

But I also suspect that we can do much more than that.  Perhaps we need to organize more volunteers or just encourage people to volunteer at the school, just as we encourage them to volunteer at church.  Both of our organizations are "centerpieces" of the community.  Why would we not work harder at working together?

Yes, we have to be a little careful about what we say and do when we partner with a public school.  But there are many ways to share Jesus without saying a word or quoting a Bible verse.  The demonstration of love and care speaks loudly without ever having to turn up the volume.

Teachers, staff, administrators and especially students need our help now more than ever.  Perhaps it's time for us as Christians to find a way to do that.  I'm betting that will make more of an impression than criticizing public schools and telling teachers that their value is only as high as a test score.