"So I'm rooting for Michigan State now."

These are not the words I expected to hear from my wife of fifteen years - she who bleeds Carolina Blue as much as anyone who subjected themselves to seven years of indoctrination in Chapel Hill for undergraduate and law school (and yes, this Demon Deacon married her anyway.  True love).  She doesn't have any family with Spartan ties.  I'm not even sure she's been to Michigan.  True, her Tarheels lost a heartbreaker the night before, ending their run in the NCAA Tournament, so there's a vacuum to fill.  But pledging allegiance to a school she knows little about? My curiosity was piqued.

When she told me it was because of "that Adreian guy," I wasn't surprised.  This is the same woman who cheered loud and proud on SuperBowl night for the Seahawks because she saw the Derrick Coleman commercial and how he overcame his deafness to rise to the height in his profession.  My wife is always a sucker for a sweet human interest story.  And really, aren't we all?

I saw something pop up in my Facebook feed over the weekend about Adreian and Lacey, so I was well aware of the story: an adorable little girl who is battling a horrific form of nerve cancer, the odds stacked against her; and the mammoth collegiate basketball star who met her on a team hospital tour.  I go to hospitals for a living and always to see a specific person, so I have little idea what it would be like to go because it's a team activity, community service, and then to happen to meet someone you instantly connect with.  That was two years ago, and Adreian and his "little sister" have been inseparable.  She's been to MSU basketball games; he's attended her fundraising events.  She helped him cut down the nets when the Spartans won the Big Ten Tournament. And she accompanied him when he was honored on Senior Night:

High-profile sports often gets a bad rap, with "me-first" attitudes and the never-ending pursuit of the next million.  As a unabashed sports fan, this is a refreshing detour from that all-too frequent storyline.

But there's more going on here.  The story of Adreian and Lacey hasn't been retweeted/shared/liked millions of times because it's a sports story.  It's a human relationship story, and you and I were made to be in relationship with each other.  We were designed for connection on an emotional, mental, physical, spiritual level.

Not too long ago I was flipping channels and stumbled on the movie Castaway; Tom Hanks playing the stranded pilot lost on an island by himself for two years.  It was around the time Wilson entered the picture.  You remember - the wayward volleyball which made the journey through someone's luggage.  He made a face on it using his own blood - the very source of his life, the deepest connection.  He would talk to it, laugh with it, argue with it.  One of the sadder moments in the movie was when Wilson got swept away in the surf as Hanks rafts away from the island in hopes of being rescued.

Connection.  Our life literally depends on it.

I had this high school English teacher my junior year I don't remember much about, save one thing.  We were in class one day, discussing a book we were reading – typical 11th grade material; I think it was Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie.  We were talking about the interplay between the characters, the dynamics of their relationships.  And that’s when Mrs. Norton offered up an absolute gem: "Every person that you come into contact with in your life," she said, "no matter how long or how short you know them, every person becomes a part of who you are."

Over twenty-five years later and I've never forgotten that.  The trick, though, is recognizing that reality in our everyday life and acting on it.  And that's the real beauty of Adreian's and Lacey's story.  When it would've been easy, even expected, to remain in their respective roles and view the other in theirs - a basketball player touring a hospital, a young child getting cancer treatment - they allowed themselves to heed the wisdom of my English teacher and allow a connection to take root and grow.  They allowed themselves to impact another life.  And just as importantly (and often the more difficult thing), they allowed their life to be impacted by another.

I can't help but wonder what it would be like if we all made a habit of doing this.  Of assuming that, at any given moment, we are right where we're supposed to be, right with who we're supposed to be with.  And when it'd be so easy for us to keep our distance and for them to keep theirs, what would happen if we reached out through a kind word or smile, just to see where it took us?  Just to see what connection might occur?  That kind of stuff requires a certain level of risk; a certain vulnerability we typically shy away from.  But life itself is risky business, no?

I'll be rooting for Lacey in the rough road she has ahead of her, keeping up with her journey on Twitter.  I don't know that I'll be able to fully side with Michigan State in their Sweet 16 game later this week against Virginia later - we ACC people tend to flock together come March Madness.  But I won't be totally bummed if Adreian's team wins. Besides, if  you ask me, the young man has won already.  In a big way.

There's a whole bunch of talk these days about a movie set to hit the big screen - and it's not the next Captain American flick or Divergent, based on the best-selling book.  No, this one is based on that other best-selling book.  Son of God is, depending on how you count it, the tenth major motion picture based on the life of Jesus.  The brainchild of Survivor producer Mark Burnett and his actress wife Roma Downey, it follows the History Channel's miniseries "The Bible" which aired last year.  Not surprisingly, it's eliciting a wide spectrum of conversation.

I saw a preview for the movie when my oldest son and I went to see Pompeii (quick review on that flick: save your time and money and spare yourself the atrocity of, among other things, Kiefer Sutherland trying to do a Roman English accent. No, I didn't know there was such a thing either).  I'll admit to being intrigued.  I remember the last time Jesus and Hollywood hung out - it was ten years ago with Mel Gibson's "The Passion."  The staff of the church I worked with at the time saw it as part of a birthday celebration for our preschool director. Years later, she still rakes me over the coals for that, deservedly so.  The merger of Jesus and Hollywood comes with two certainties: there will be controversy, and someone will make a lot of money.

Of particular interest is the location of the evangelical Christian community in the mix.  Back in 1988 as a college sophomore, I engaged in a lengthy discussion with a nice gentleman outside a movie theater in Winston-Salem, NC.  I was there to see The Last Temptation of Christ, another Jesus movie directed by Martin Scorsese.  He was there to try and talk me out of it.  His church, a conservative non-denominational stalwart of the community, had organized protests at all the theaters around town.  I wound up seeing it, and it remains the only time I've ever had someone try to talk me out of walking through those theater doors at the theater (well, other than Wild West. Should've listened).

This time, though, the evangelical community is squarely behind Jesus in the theater.  In fact, one could argue that's been the intention all along.  Burnett and Downey, unapologetic evangelicals, have said as much in advance of the film.  The dialogue is taken almost exclusively from the Gospel of John, an evangelical favorite for its lofty language that lifts Jesus to superhuman heights (as opposed to Mark, where the humanity of Jesus is emphasized). In Charlotte, two megachurches bought out entire theaters this past Thursday evening so  their church members could attend.  And - and this important - to bring lots and lots of non-Christians with them.  Organizers are openly plugging the tactic to create high first-week ratings at the box office, in hopes it will cause even more to see it.  A win-win for these churches and Hollywood: greater revenues and higher conversions. One of the official movies website pages is practically an evangelism-how-to, offering numerous ways to use the movie to solicit faith-filled commitments from family and friends.  The general agenda: if we get as many people as possible to see this film, they'll be so overwhelmed by its message - a message they've never fully gotten but will finally get with this particular movie - they'll be so overwhelmed that they'll grab hold of Jesus and never let him go, creating a national revival and a country truly "under God."

I like Jesus movies - and yes, it's because of what I do for a living.  I'm intrigued by the particular nuance they bring, the overarching story they seek to tell, and even who gets to play Jesus (didn't see Willem Dafoe coming in Last Temptation, did you?  Neither did I).  I find that whatever their intention, Jesus movies can elicit some powerful conversations among the faithful about what is proper doctrine and interpretation and - most importantly - who Jesus is.  

But I'm not a fan of using Jesus on the big screen as a form of evangelism, and here's why.  People in our post-modern society are most interested in authentic substance.  By nature they are hesitant, even suspicious, of institutions and over-arching truths.  They're fine with a sales pitch for a pair of jeans or their next car; but when it comes to things in life that really matter, they're not looking for a show.  So taking these people to see a Jesus movie with the hopes of a lasting conversion experience tends to do one of two things: turn them off altogether, or elicit an initial emotional response that fades over time.

What they value much more than Christians taking them to a Jesus movie, I'd suggest, is Christians actually acting like Jesus themselves.  The best "show" we can give them is loving all people, treating everyone with grace and dignity, caring for the sick, giving voice to the marginalized, standing up in the face of injustice, and articulating what we stand for instead of what we're against.  In other words, doing the same things that the real Jesus did 2000 years ago.  This tends to be a much more effective witness than taking them to a two-plus hour movie in a cozy theater seat.  When we strive our best to live like Jesus, it lets others know that we are serious not just about their souls but about their lives and the lives of others.  That we are willing to go to the trouble of living out our faith as individuals and as a community of faith, rather than simply watching it.

Don't get me wrong: Jesus movies have merit.  They elicit good conversations and (hopefully) good blogs.  They make money for the people who put them together.  They get people talking.  All of these are perfectly good things.  I'm planning to see the movie myself at some point, but not because I want to learn about who Jesus is.  I figure the real one 2000 years ago - and the way I strive to emulate his life in mine today - should suffice just fine.