Tag Archives: excusing behavior

Say What?

Now that the 2014 NFL Pro Bowl is over or should I say Jerry Rice verses Dion Sanders, the hype for Super Bowl XLVIII can now officially begin.  While this game will match Denver’s NFL best offense against Seattle’s top ranked defense, the media can’t stop talking about Richard Sherman’s post game rant following his team’s victory in the NFC Championship.  Apparently upset by remarks made by 49ers wide receiver Michael Crabtree last off season, Sherman sounded like a little kid, illuminating poor sportsmanship.

However, what’s more alarming is the media’s justification and rationale for his behavior.  Most experts chalk this up to the heat of the moment, taking place inside the lines of the football field.  Though a few reporters were turned off by a lack of class displayed by Sherman, it seems like in 2014 its okay to be rude as long as you have a good excuse.  I can hear Gary Coleman shouting out his classic line now, “what’s you talking about Willis?”  Maybe I’m simply old fashion or old school, but this verbal assault and continuing coverage is a clear sign of America’s fall from grace toward a society heading toward paganism.

Well, perhaps my words are a little strong, but what is happening to this once great country?  Malls, Movie Theaters and Schools have become shooting galleries for people to take out their frustrations in life.  While the bullied are seeking revenge, God is still waiting for America to open the door, letting Him back into public education.  As psychologists express their opinions on cable news networks trying to make sense of today’s moral dilemma, the Richard Sherman’s in life will continue trash talking until someone bigger, better or both comes along to shut them up.  Only time will tell the final outcome of the Super Bowl and America’s “Say What” culture.

by Jay Mankus

Forgiven… Not Excused

One of my weakest areas as a high school teacher was consistently disciplining students by the same standards day in and day out.  When I was in a good mood, I tended to be more patient, forgiving or overlooking acts I normally confronted or punished.  Meanwhile, if I was frustrated or irritated by a previous class, the wrath of Mr. Mankus came down in full force, kicking students out of class or sending several willing participants to after school detention.  In a sense, my goal was to communicate the message, “you’re forgiven, yet not excused for your behavior.

 

As a parent, this struggle has become more complicated as my kids have grown up and become too comfortable to their laid back dad.  Whenever I try to corral them toward a desired behavior, I receive sarcasm, creating a chain of laughter at my dinner table.  Discipline is like an art form which requires discernment, firmness and a set of values to abide by.  Bribing my children doesn’t work as well as it once was, spanking only worked when they were younger and yelling is too exhausting.  Although I am imperfect, all I can do is strive to live out Proverbs 22:6, proclaiming, “you’re forgiven by not excused from your actions.”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=waY7YM34N5U

John 8:1-11 contains a woman whose hand in caught in the cookie jar of sin.  Before the days of judges and juries, the religious leaders were old school, taking action right away.  Interrupting Jesus’ teaching, the Pharisees were eager to apply the law of Moses, seeking the death penalty for the adulterer.  Thinking of his journey to the cross, Jesus turned his attention to perfection, looking for the guiltless to pick up the first stone.  Writing down the sins of the people in the crowd in the sand, the accusers leave one by one, dropping their rocks on their way home.  Although the crowd fled, Jesus didn’t let the woman off easy.  John 8:11 implies once you ask God for forgiveness, an act of contrition is necessary.  Jesus loves you just the way you are, but cares enough to move you beyond sin.  Therefore, the next time you receive forgiveness, God expects genuine repentance, turning 180 degrees toward Him, leaving sinful ways in the rear view mirror.

by Jay Mankus