How are you looking?

When we first bought our house several years ago, there was a great deck in our backyard. From a distance it looked attractive, sturdy, functional. But as one got closer, it was clear that the deck was sagging in places. And standing on it confirmed that it was structurally unsound and needed to be torn down. I think of that old deck when I think of the deadly sin of envy.

“Envy rots the bones,” says the author of Proverbs. What an image! Of all the deadly sins it is the most pathetic, and arguably the most common. St. Thomas Aquinas defined it as “sorrow at another’s good.” Pathetic. Envy is the only deadly sin without even a moment of gratification. And it typically begins very early in life, as one feels an increasing sense of inecurity and competition with those around him or her: for love, for attention, for acceptance. Life for the soul struggling with envy is a series of competitions, and the envious always feels one-down....and is in fact collapsing at a foundational level, emotionally and spiritually.

But as deadly as envy is, it can be helpful in letting us know what we value most and this awareness can be the beginning of healing. Envying another’s good looks may tell us that we put too much importance on physical beauty. Envying a house, a boat, or a car, may be an indication that we base too much of our self-worth on material objects. Envying someone’s popularity may be a clue that we have not been good friends to others, or even to ourselves. Envy can help us take stock of our lives, and re-prioritize our values. The word envy comes from the Latin "invidere", which means "to look askance." Thus, it is in how we look at others, their talents, material possessions, and/or moral virtues that must be carefully considered. Envy focuses one’s vision on the negative aspects of life. The envious, with eyes narrowed, look for faults in others and opportunities to minimize their virtues and successes. This bitter disposition will eventually consume the envious person’s entire world if not challenged. This is why Spenser presents Envy riding atop a ravenous wolf in his pageant of the deadly sins, with venom dripping from its mouth. “For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you find disorder and every evil practice” (James 3:16).

Recently, I heard about an inspiring incident that occurred at a Special Olympics track meet. A group of mentally and physically challenged children lined up for the 100-yard dash, and when the starter’s gun sounded they were off toward the finish line, running for the gold medal. About ten yards into the race, one little boy tripped and fell. As he lay in the dust crying one of his competitors, a little girl with Down syndrome, heard him. She slowed, stopped, and then turned and went back to see how he was. One by one every runner in the race joined her, encircling the fallen athlete. The little boy was kissed, consoled, and encouraged to get up and rejoin the race. Then, as the stunned crowd looked on, all ten runners spontaneously grasped hands and ran the race together, crossing the finish line at the same time.

Charity, like envy, has everything to do with how one sees the race, the competition, and the prize.

Thank you, Coach....

Funny the things that come to mind when you hear that someone you knew has died.

I knew John Wooden in passing. He was friends with my father, and he was gracious enough to accept the Humanitas Award at our second Stillpoint Family Resources Gala. A week before the event, I had the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet with him at his home in Encino. He graciously autographed a basketball for our auction, and then chatted with me for about thirty minutes. I left knowing that I had been in the presence of greatness.

He'd spoken about basketball, but also about poetry, philosophy, and faith. The man was profound, and I was transfixed. Toward the end of our meeting, I was able to mumble that I'd had the privilege of attending four of his summer basketball camps, and how much I'd enjoyed them. He smiled and asked me if I remembered the drills. I did, actually. But what I remembered more had nothing to do with basketball.

I remember how Coach was with his wife. As a boy of eight, I noticed how he responded when he'd see her arrive at the camp. He seemed to explode with joy. This sports immortal, the "Wizard of Westwood", greatest coach in the history of college basketball (and maybe all of basketball), totally and unabashedly joyful about his wife. She'd enter the cafeteria and he'd get up, go to her, embrace her, and usher her to his table where they seemed to have a date...at least that's what it felt like. In the middle of a noisy cafeteria, at a basketball camp for kids, they were alone. I was eight and I noticed. What does that tell you about the power of their love?

John Wooden wasn't a great man because he won a lot of basketball games. He was great because he loved. He loved God, he loved learning, he loved people, he loved basketball, and he especially loved his wife. I smile to think that John and Nellie are finally together again tonight, forever.

Requiescat in pace, Coach. Thank you for teaching about what matters most.