Ted Harris – the Power of I

When I was nine years old, my dad took me to a dinner banquet he had been invited to that featured the famed sportscaster, Howard Cosell. I was the only kid in the room. After what felt like a very long dinner and a very boring speech, guests were invited to come up and meet Howard Cosell and Lamar Hunt, the owner of the Kansas City Chiefs and an NFL icon.

The man who had given my dad the tickets handed me an official NFL football and suggested I get it signed. And I did. We stood in line, shook their hands, collected their autographs, and went home. That football became a prized possession—perfect for show-and-tell—and eventually earned a place of honor on a shelf in my bedroom.

Do you know where that football is today?  Yeah… me neither.

A few months later, when football season rolled around, the value of actually playing with the ball far outweighed the value of the signatures written on it. I was nine.

As I grew up, I managed to collect several more autographs from professional athletes. I’m really going to date myself here—most of you may have to Google these names. Growing up in Lawrence, Kansas, Gale Sayers visited our Boy Scout troop. Kansas City Royals greats like John Mayberry, Darrell Porter, and Dan Quisenberry or Jim ‘Catfish’ Hunter and Lou Pinella signed items that I carefully stored in a scrapbook.

Do you know where that scrapbook is today? Yeah… me neither.

Somewhere along the way, I realized something important. The real value was never in the name written on a ball or a piece of paper. The value was in knowing the person behind the name. I no longer wanted signatures—I wanted relationships.

In many ways, professional athletes are still idolized today. People wear their names, cheer for them, and follow them closely. But most only know what they see from the stands or on a screen. They know the name—but not the person.

Isaiah 6 gives us one of the most powerful pictures of worship in all of Scripture. The prophet is given a vision of heaven: God seated on a throne, seraphim flying above Him, calling out in worship. The scene is so overwhelming that it shakes the temple itself and brings Isaiah to his knees in confession and repentance.

But if we read this passage only in our English translations, we can miss something significant. We see words like Lord and LORD Almighty and understand they refer to God—but Isaiah was using specific names for God, and those names carried deep meaning for those who truly knew Him.

“In the year King Uzziah died, I saw Adonai seated on a throne.”

And the angels were calling to one another: “Holy, holy, holy is Yahweh Almighty.”

God reveals His names because He longs to be known.

Adonai means Master or Sovereign One. It is both a name and a title. When Isaiah uses this name, he is placing himself in the position of a servant – a slave – before his Master. He sees God’s authority and power as His robe fills the entire temple. Sovereignty of this magnitude in human hands would be terrifying. But Adonai is all-seeing, all-knowing, and all-loving. He makes no mistakes. He allows nothing without reason or purpose.

Yahweh is the most personal name of God—the name first revealed to Moses at the burning bush. When Moses asked who he should say had sent him, God replied, “Tell them I Am has sent you.” Yahweh simply means I Am. The eternal, self-existent, ever-present God.

Isaiah didn’t just know about God. He knew Him. He knew Adonai, the Sovereign One. He knew Yahweh, the holy and personal God. God was not a concept to Isaiah—He was a person. And because Isaiah knew God by name, he could worship Him in every circumstance.

In the end, what’s in a name? Everything—when the name leads you to truly know the One behind it.

I like to be good at whatever I do. Some might call that a character flaw—and they may be right—but if I’m going to do something, I at least want a chance to succeed or not embarrass myself. In sports, I want to be competitive. If I’m teaching, I want to know the material and explain it well. That usually requires preparation, practice, and sometimes the right tools.

Over the years I’ve often said, “This job would be easier if I had the right tool.” Whether it’s carpentry, mechanics, cooking, or woodworking, having the proper equipment matters. But having the right tools doesn’t guarantee success. Every time I buy a new golf club, I’m reminded of the saying: “It’s not the arrow; it’s the Indian.”

Most of us want our lives to count. We want to look back and know we mattered. If that resonates with you, Peter’s words in his second letter should be deeply encouraging:

“His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature…” 2 Peter 1:3–4

Peter understood struggle. He was a fisherman—nothing impressive by cultural standards. He was impulsive, outspoken, and fearful enough to deny Jesus three times. Yet something changed. And Peter is now pointing us to what made the difference.

Jesus said, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” That word life is the same one Peter uses. Everything we need for a full, God-honoring life has already been given to us through Jesus.

By grace, God has supplied the tools:

• Knowledge of Him – We can truly know God
• Calling – Our lives have meaning and purpose
• Goodness – God gives what is best, not merely what is easy
• Promises – Our future is secure
• Divine nature – Changed lives empowered by the Holy Spirit

But tools alone don’t produce results. Again, it’s not just the arrow—it’s the Indian. So Peter continues:

“For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness… For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive.” 2 Peter 1:5–8

We are called to make every effort—to practice, to grow, to become proficient in life and godliness. God supplies the tools; we must learn to use them.

Faith is the starting point—confidence in who God is. From there we grow in goodness, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness, and finally love. That last word matters. Love is the goal, but Peter reminds us it doesn’t appear fully formed. It isn’t the first tool in the list. Rather, love is built through a life shaped by obedience, discipline, and perseverance in the power of the Holy Spirit.

All the tools, all the right equipment – Go and make every effort, every day with Jesus.

I drove the shuttle on Tuesday night. It was an extra shift, but they needed more drivers as we welcomed home IU fans returning from Monday night’s College Football Championship Game. On my very first run, I picked up a woman I’d guess was in her 70s. The entire shuttle was filled with IU fans, all swapping stories from an unforgettable weekend.

This woman shared how thrilling it was to witness a championship that capped off an undefeated season. Then she casually added that she had also been in attendance back in 1976, when Bobby Knight led an undefeated Indiana basketball team to an NCAA championship. Two undefeated championship seasons—decades apart—and she had seen them both. Hands down, she won “top story of the night.”

Undefeated. It’s rare in sports for teams to never lose. The 1972 Miami Dolphins pulled it off. It has never happened in Major League Baseball (162 games is a long season), nor in the NBA or NHL. In college football, it has happened 64 times in the past 90 years, with Notre Dame leading the way at six. But with the expanded playoff schedule, IU became the first team to go 16–0 since Yale did it in 1894.

I’ve been part of a couple of undefeated baseball teams—and once, miraculously, an undefeated co-ed softball team with a young marrieds small group. That story is for another day.

Undefeated seasons are rare, and they’re worth celebrating. Most of us, however, are far more familiar with “the agony of defeat” (and if you know that reference, you’re showing your age). Life reminds us often that we don’t always win. Jesus was honest about that reality. He told His followers, then and now, “In this world you will have trouble.” And he told Peter that he would fail and deny him three times. John echoes that truth in his first letter, reminding us that none of us are undefeated when it comes to sin:

“If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:8–9)

We are not called to be perfect. Sinless perfection is unattainable for humans born with a sin nature. God knows that—and we need to know it too. That’s why Jesus is our only hope. He never intended our failures, our struggles, or even our sin to define us or defeat us. That’s why He could say, “You will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Jesus went undefeated. And through Him, we are invited to live in His victory over sin and death.

The apostle Paul puts it this way in Romans 8:

“If God is for us, who can be against us? … Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? … No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.”

We may not be undefeated—but we are not defeated. In Christ, we are more than conquerors. Our story isn’t defined by a flawless record, but by a faithful Savior. When we fall, we can be forgiven. When we struggle, we can be strengthened. When we face trouble, we can stand in victory—not because of what we’ve done, but because of what Christ has already accomplished.

So, live boldly. Confess quickly. Trust deeply. And walk confidently in the truth that nothing—no failure, no hardship, no power in all creation—can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

Undefeated? No.

Defeated? Absolutely not.

More than conquerors—always.

Last Sunday night at our church, the Senior High group studied Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. Pastor Jordan has been leading us through a series called “All of Jesus,” where we’re discovering the person and character of Christ throughout all of Scripture—both Old and New Testaments.

The Sermon on the Mount, found in Matthew 5–7, is the first recorded public teaching of Jesus. Years ago, while preaching through Matthew’s Gospel, I spent several weeks studying this sermon. Discussing this sermon with the freshman boys last Sunday, reminded me of a phrase I learned during my study years ago, maybe you have heard of it,  the “Say/Do Ratio.”

A man I used to meet for breakfast shared this idea with me. A Say/Do Ratio measures the reliability of a person by comparing the commitments they make (say) and the commitments they fulfill (do). Ideally, that ratio is 1:1—meaning your actions match your words. Your life demonstrates what you claim to believe.

Unfortunately, some people talk a lot but fail to follow through. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus challenges that very mindset. He reminds us that faith is not just about what we know or say—the Pharisees were experts at both. In Matthew 5, He repeats the phrase, “You have heard that it was said…” followed by “But I tell you…,” each time raising the standard from outward knowledge to inward transformation to renewed, deeper action.

For example, Jesus said, “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘You shall not murder.’ But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister will be subject to judgment.” In other words, you say, “Don’t murder,” but I say, “Don’t even harbor anger.”

The Pharisees tried to make salvation about perfectly following rules, creating a self-righteous culture where they were the “knowers,” “sayers,” and “doers.” But Jesus declared that salvation is not about making ourselves righteous, because that’s impossible. True righteousness is a gift from God that transforms how we live.

When we receive that righteousness, our Say/Do Ratio should reflect it. If we say we follow Jesus—if we proclaim He is our Savior and has forgiven our sins—then our “doing” should prove it.

The Apostle John wrote something similar in 1 John 1:5–7:
“This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.”

As we enter the holiday season—Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s—it’s a time to remember all God has done. We give thanks for His faithfulness, celebrate His gift of Jesus, and look forward to new beginnings. These next few weeks will offer many chances to live out our faith—through kindness, generosity, and love.

Let’s make sure our Say/Do Ratio reflects the light of Christ in all we do. May others see in our lives the living truth of the gospel we proclaim.

Sold!

Auctions! I love them! Growing up, I remember going to estate sales with my dad. We usually weren’t searching for anything specific—sometimes the estate belonged to someone he knew, and other times we were simply looking for a good deal. My dad always knew who the regular bidders were—the ones who bought items to resell. He taught me to watch them, then go one bid higher and you knew you got a good deal. They always knew what the item was worth.

When we were first married, Sari and I would attend auctions looking for furniture or household items. Personally, I always kept an eye out for tools of any kind. It’s been a while since I’ve been to a live auction, but lately, I discovered Mr. Bid Auctions, an online auction site, and my old addiction has resurfaced! I’ve scored a lot of things—office furniture, tools, even a Bo Jackson jersey. The draw for me is the spirit of competition and the chance to get something for pennies on the dollar. There’s a thrill in holding the winning bid as the timer runs out signaling you’ve won, or when someone sneaks in at the last second, restarting the clock and giving you a chance to think, recalculate, and bid again.

Most of the items purchased at auctions are old—still functional, but well-used. The former owner is done with it, ready to cast it aside. Auctions provide an opportunity to redeem and repurpose someone else’s castoffs. It’s a powerful picture of redemption: buying back something unwanted, something life has dinged, scratched, and deemed worth only pennies. I think you see where this is going.

God does the same for us. Every human being is created by God, in His image, but every one of us is born with a sin nature—an operating system corrupted by Satan and passed down through Adam and Eve. Because of that, we live apart from God. Through life, we get dinged, scratched, and sometimes scarred.

But God (I love those two words, because they always bring good news)—but God, in His mercy and by His grace, has paid the “auctioneer’s price” for us. He has redeemed our broken, sinful lives to restore, repurpose, and give us new life. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve lived, how scarred you are, or how battered your soul may be by sin—God has paid the price.
How much did it cost Him?
        “You are not your own; you were bought at a price.” 1 Corinthians 6:20

        “…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement, through the shedding of his blood—to be received by faith.” Romans 3:23-25

Whenever I have a great auction find, I want to tell everyone about it. But we have an even greater story to share—the story of our own redemption. We are invited to be part of someone else’s redemption story by sharing the good news.
Who will you share your story with this week? Who are you praying for to come to faith in Jesus?

Don’t wait until the timer runs out and the gavel drops!