Admonition

Everybody is surprised and the story goes viral (over 2 million views) as a father of a teen goes the extra mile to show how much he cares for his son. Two news hosts of Fox4 at Dallas-Fort Worth:

"A suburban father is an internet hero for dropping in on his son's high school physics class to teach the kid a lesson. Poor kid. Brad Howard told his son, also known as Brad, if he heard from his teacher at Rockwall Heath High School about him talking too much in class, he would sit through class with him. Sure dad. Oh, last week dad got an email, he kept his promise. Daughter Molly posted a picture online."

Report begins with teen Brad speaking to the camera: "I walked in. I had no idea he was going to come, but I was saying hi to everybody and talking to all of my friends and I was like, 'hey Grant', and I heard 'hey Bradley'. And my dad was sitting in my chair."

Father, sitting next to Brad on a sofa: "As the teacher began to teach, all of the sudden I began to think to myself, what if she calls on me to answer a question?"

Hosts voiceover as father and son toss a football: "Turns out dad Brad was actually more uncomfortable about the whole situation than his son, but the teen said he learned a thing or two. He better take his dad's threats much more seriously from now on. When dad says he's going to do something, he's going to do it. I love that they're both laughing about it."

Your relationship can handle way more honesty than you think it can. In fact, a new study from the University of Rochester found that being brutally honest with your partner benefits both of you.

Most people fear that difficult conversations will damage their relationships, so we avoid tough topics or sugarcoat our feelings. But research shows we’re wrong about the risks of being direct.

Scientists studied 214 couples, together an average of 15 years, and asked them to discuss something they wanted their partner to change. This is a conversation most people dread. Before talking, each person privately wrote down what they wanted to say, then had the conversation while researchers recorded what was actually shared.

The results? When people were more honest about their requests, both partners reported better emotional well-being and higher relationship satisfaction. What mattered more was that people actually were honest and that their partners perceived them as honest.

Three months later, many benefits persisted. People who had been more honest during the initial discussion reported better emotional well-being and were more likely to see positive changes in their partners over time.

You don’t need perfect communication skills or complete agreement about what happened for honesty to help your relationship. You just need willingness to share authentic thoughts and feelings.

Rather than tiptoeing around sensitive topics, couples should lean into honest communication. The truth can set your relationship free, even when it’s hard to hear.

Tim Hogan is the founder and CEO SaferStreet Solutions, a development firm focusing on improving traffic safety and reducing pedestrian deaths. For years, he and his team were looking at ways to prevent the phenomenon known as distracted driving, which is statistically comparable to drunk driving as a culprit for traffic-related fatalities.

Inspired by the signs that offer real-time feedback to speeding drivers, Hogan and his team invented the SmartSign. The signs are designed to identify motorists who hold their phones while driving, and display a message warning them to stop: “PHONE DOWN.”

Matt Gregory is a reporter in Washington DC. When the SmartSign was implemented in his city, he was somewhat skeptical of the sign’s efficacy. Matt said, “So, I went for a drive with my phone in my hand. And sure enough, ‘Phone Down’!”

Hogan says the device works by using sensors to identify the unique combination of heat signatures that result from a human holding a phone. If the phone is cradled or resting elsewhere, the sign doesn’t light up.

Rick Birt from the DC Highway Safety Office says the goal is to introduce the signs to the public as a form of behavior intervention. “Last year nationally, 3,500 people died from distracted driving-related crashes. The goal of these signs is to provide instantaneous feedback to motorists so that they have that opportunity to make a better choice.”

Possible Preaching Angle:

God is faithful to remind us when we are veering off of the path given for us, but it’s up to each of us to respond in obedience.

Tim Keller writes:

Some years ago, I had a relative who never would wear a seat belt. Every time I talked to him, he would get in the car, but wouldn't wear his seat belt. We all nagged him to no avail. Then one day he got in the car and put his seat belt on right away. We said, "What happened to you?" He said, "A couple weeks ago, I went to see a friend of mine in the hospital. He was in a car crash, and he went through the windshield. He had like 200 stitches in his face. For some strange reason, ever since then, I've been having no problem buckling up."

I asked him, "Well, did you get new information? What changed you? Did you not know that people go through the windshield?" Of course I knew the answer to those questions: What happened was that an abstract proposition became connected to an actual sensory experience that is something he saw. As Jonathan Edwards used to basically say over and over again, it's only when you attach to some truth—that's when real life change occurs. Something has to become real to your heart. Then you will be changed.

In June of 1938, J.R.R. Tolkien (The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings author) wrote a letter to his editor Stanley Unwin explaining why he was behind schedule finishing the final draft for The Hobbit. Tolkien told Unwin that instead of drafting more material, he decided to start over and rewrite the first three chapters. What motivated Tolkien to go back and start the whole thing over again? He had received "excellent criticism" from his readers. C. S. Lewis was one of those readers. Apparently Lewis read chapters, liked the story, and encouraged Tolkien, but he also took the time to critique it and make specific suggestions for its improvement.

For instance, Lewis told Tolkien that there was too much dialogue, too much chatter, too much silly "hobbit talk." According to Lewis, all this dialogue was dragging down the story line. Tolkien grumbled in response to Lewis, "The trouble is that 'hobbit talk' amuses me … more than adventures; but I must curb this severely." But he still accepted the advice anyway.

Also, in the first draft, the story centers on a hobbit named Bingo, who sets out with two companions (Odo Took and Frodo Took). As Tolkien revises, Bingo becomes Frodo, and he is joined by his friends Sam and Pippin. (I wonder—would The Lord of the Rings have been nearly so popular if the main character had been called Bingo all along?)

But more than just names have been transformed. Tolkien's revised version is shorter and much clearer, too. When Tolkien rewrote this material, he cut nearly half of the dialogue. Page after page, he cuts out long conversations, and he picks up the action. Even though he personally prefers a story with much more "hobbit talk," he bows to his critics and creates a tale with much less. He also makes small but elegant refinements throughout the pages.

The Fox TV show Kitchen Nightmares features the host Gordon Ramsay, a world-class chef, who steps into restaurants that are—you guessed it—living nightmares. The restaurants are typically on the verge of closing and in desperate need of help. What's interesting is that sometimes the restaurants look appealing from the outside. Often, large amounts of time and money have been spent finding the right location and creating a welcoming atmosphere. But in every episode, the real problem is the same: the food is nasty.

One of the painfully entertaining parts of every show is how Gordon Ramsay tries over and over to get the restaurant workers to realize they are in an "Oh no! situation." The owners have typically already had a sudden awakening, because the business is in trouble, but what they need is some brutal honesty. And Chef Ramsay is brutal. He'll usually order about a half-dozen items off the menu and with great passion and clarity explain how horrible each one tastes. The restaurant owners are in denial about the quality of their food because they are distracted by everything else going on. They're managing food orders, overseeing wait staff, stepping out of the kitchen to shake hands with customers—basically anything but actually making good food. The show is half over before any of them get honest about reality.

Mike Krzyewski, the men's basketball coach for Duke University since 1980, is basketball's all-time winningest coach. Most people know him as just "Coach K." But he's not just a coach; he's also a genius at creating teamwork. Here's one of his keys to success:

In our program, the truth is the basis of all that we do. There is nothing more important than the truth because there's nothing more powerful than the truth. Consequently, on our team, we always tell one another the truth. We must be honest with one another. There is no other way.

The British ocean liner, the R.M.S. Lusitania, was struck by a torpedo from a German submarine on May 7, 1915. It appears that in an effort to minimize panic, the captain, William Thomas Turner, created a false sense of assurance. Shortly after the torpedo struck the liner, a fellow passenger, Charles Lauriat, heard a female passenger call out, "Captain, what do you wish us to do?" Author Erik Larson writes he replied, "Stay right where you are, Madam, she's all right."

"Where do you get your information?" she asked. "From the engine room, Madam," he said. But the engine room clearly had told him no such thing … Lauriat and the woman now headed back toward the stern, and as they walked they told other passengers what the captain had said. Second-class passenger Henry Needham may have encountered the pair, for he recalled that a passenger approaching from the direction of the bridge had shouted, "The Captain says the boat will not sink."

"The remark," Needham wrote, "was greeted with cheers and I noticed many people who had been endeavoring to get a place in the boats, turned away in apparent contentment."

Turner's words merely confirmed what the passengers and crew already believed, or wanted to believe: that no torpedo could cause the ship mortal damage.

Of the 1,959 passengers aboard the Lusitania, 1,198 perished.

Possible Preaching Angles: (1) Judgment; Hell; Warning—Jesus spoke about hell and judgment (as do other parts of Scripture) not to scare us, but to prepare us for what's really coming. (2) Honesty—This is also a good example of the need to speak the truth in love in Christian community.

Toward the end of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, there's a scene where Harry, Ron, and Hermione are about to break the rules and leave their dormitory after-hours to stop the bad guy from stealing a powerful magic artifact. Before they leave, though, they must face none other than Neville Longbottom, a rather bumbling, ineffective student in their class. "You're sneaking out again, aren't you?" Neville asks. "I won't let you. You'll get [our classmates] into trouble again." He fails to stop them, and Harry and his friends manage to stop the villain. But, surprisingly, at the end of the year banquet, headmaster Dumbledore gives the greatest honor to Neville. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies," he explains, "but just as much to stand up to our friends."

Although Neville never becomes truly close with Harry, Ron, or Hermione, he still stumbled across two of the key traits of a friend or an accountability partner: the ability to recognize patterns of sinful behavior, and the courage to call the person out on them.

"When I was young and started really making it as an actor, I came and talked to my mother and said, 'Mom, did you think this was going to happen? I'd be so big and I'll be able to take care of everybody and I can do this and I can do that.'"

Mama Washington reprimanded her son: "Oh, you did it all by yourself? I'll tell you what you can do by yourself: Go outside and get a mop and bucket and clean these windows—you can do that by yourself, superstar."

She said, "Boy, stop it right there, stop it right there, stop it right there!" She said, "If you only knew how many people been praying for you." How many prayer groups she put together, how many prayer talks she gave, how many times she splashed me with holy water to save my sorry behind.

Up to his neck in debt, directionless, feeling lost, Tom Toro moved back into his parents' place and slipped into a dark depression. But things started to change when Toro went to a used book sale in his hometown. He opened a cardboard box and found an old stack of The New Yorker magazines. He said, "For some reason, I was drawn toward them and I started riffling through them. Something just clicked. And I started drawing again."

Toro decided to submit some of his cartoons to the magazine. Shortly after that, he received a reply. It was his first rejection note, of the many still to come. Toro said, "The New Yorker found the way to most courteously and most briefly reject people. It's just beautiful. You feel so honored to receive it and yet it's a brushoff."

A year and a half later, Toro had a pile of rejection letters. This continued until Bob Mankoff, the cartoon editor at The New Yorker, gave Toro some honest and specific feedback. Mankoff said he didn't see any joy in Toro's cartoons. So Toro threw everything that he had done previously out the door, sat down with a blank sheet of paper. Recalling Mankoff's advice, he tried to draw from the heart. He was still receiving rejection letters in the mail, but his cartoons were getting better. Toro was finding his style. And then, one day, he wandered into his office to check his email. He said, "I went in there, logged in, and there sitting at the top of my inbox was an email. The subject line read, 'Cartoon Sold.'" It was the 610th drawing Toro had submitted to The New Yorker.

Possible Preaching Angles: (1) Perseverance; Tenacity; Discouragement; (2) Rebuke; Honesty; Correction—Toro needed the honest feedback and correction from Mankoff before he could improve; (3) Spiritual disciplines—How often do we "fail" at spiritual disciplines—fasting, meditation, and so forth—before we finally get it right.

During his training to become a hospital chaplain, a man was surprised to learn of a phenomenon in the medical community widely known as "Mutual Pretense." In many cases, mutual pretense is something that takes place after the period of treatment for a particular patient has run its course and it's become clear to everyone that it's not working and the patient will die. Despite the fact that this the dark reality is clearly known by all parties involved, the doctor, patient, and family of the patient will often deal with the fact by talk about anything other than the fact that the patient is going to die. They'll talk about what will happen once they get out of the hospital, what they are going to do when everything gets better, about sports, about family—anything but the truth of the impending death.

Mutual pretense is a kind of survival mechanism that allows everyone to continue talking to each other while not having to actually talk about what's going on—like the brute reality of an impending death.

Possible preaching idea: (1) Speaking the truth in love—Church is not a place we go to escape from truth; it's a place where we to go discuss the truth about our lives, even when it's painful. (2) Bible; God's Word—God's Word speaks the truth into our lives.

An article in The Wall Street Journal summarized a series of studies which proved what many people may know from experience—giving advice isn't always helpful, especially in marriage. Researchers at the University of Iowa conducted a series of six studies that tracked 100 couples for the first seven years of their marriage. They concluded that both husbands and wives feel lower marital satisfaction when they are given too much advice from a spouse, as opposed to too little. And unsolicited advice is the most damaging.

The researchers focused on a fundamental biblical principle: serve your spouse, or put the needs of your spouse ahead of your needs. Here's part of their conclusions:

One way to give better advice is to first make sure your spouse actually wants your help. You can do this by asking—a novel idea!—"Would you like some ideas on that?" In other words, stop and listen. Sometimes listening can be even more effective than giving advice. Or instead of jumping in and giving advice, try telling them a story. "This might not be appropriate for you, but what I did when I had a similar problem was …"

What if you're the recipient of unwanted advice? Respond with a "thank you," to acknowledge the gesture. Then explain that you aren't looking for advice at this time. This allows for the possibility that down the road you may want advice. Then be sure to explain what would be helpful to you. Do you need someone to simply listen? Brainstorm? Bring chicken soup? Someone who loves you will be relieved to know how to be useful.

In 1850, Abraham Lincoln's step-brother, John D. Johnston, wrote to him and asked, yet again, for a loan so he could settle some debts. On previous occasions Lincoln simply gave Johnston the money. But this time Lincoln responded with a "tough love" letter that included a helpful proposal.

Dear Johnston:

Your request for eighty dollars I do not think it best to comply with now. At the various times when I have helped you a little you have said to me, "We can get along very well now"; but in a very short time I find you in the same difficulty again. Now, this can only happen by some defect in your conduct. What that defect is, I think I know. You are not lazy, and still you are an idler. I doubt whether, since I saw you, you have done a good whole day's work in any one day…. This habit of uselessly wasting time is the whole difficulty; it is vastly important to you, and still more so to your children, that you should break the habit ….

You are now in need of some money; and what I propose is, that you shall go to work, "tooth and nail," for somebody who will give you money for it …. and, to secure you a fair reward for your labor, I now promise you, that for every dollar you will, between this and the first of May, get for your own labor … I will then give you one other dollar …. Now, if you will do this, you will be soon out of debt, and, what is better, you will have a habit that will keep you from getting in debt again. But, if I should now clear you out of debt, next year you would be just as deep in as ever.

Affectionately your brother,

A. Lincoln

Possible Preaching Angles: (1) Confrontation/Rebuke—Lincoln's letter provides a good example of "tough love"—the love that is willing to "speak the truth in love" so people can change and grow. (2) Money/Debt—This letter also provides a biblical perspective on avoiding debt by working hard and being responsible with money.

Mike Howerton describes how different were the motivational methods of the two men who coached his high school football team—Coach Crow and Coach Rush. When his team was losing during halftime, the two coaches would give two very different "pep talks."

Coach Crow would come in growling, spitting disdain in his words at us: "What a bunch of losers. Whaddya say let's get your girlfriends suited up; they'd do a better job. Your flimsy arm-tackles make me wanna puke. I'm gonna go look for some diapers for you babies to wear in the second half; maybe then you won't embarrass yourselves so bad." He'd leave, and absolute silence would descend, virtually no sound except for the muffled sobs of Monty, our kicker, in the corner.

Then our defensive head coach, Coach Rush, would come in. He'd look each of us in the eyes with his steely glint. When he began to speak, you could feel strength flow into your limbs. He would begin with something like this, measured, masculine, and building in intensity: "I don't see high school students. I see lions. This locker room is filled with lions. A bunch of lions is called a pride. A pride of lions hunts together. A pride of lions kills together …. Lions are majestic to behold …. Lions are the kings of the land, and this is your land. You are the pride here. But there's one thing I haven't heard you lions do tonight. I haven't heard you roar. Now we're gonna go out there … and everyone in this two-bit town is gonna hear you roar because you are LIONS and LIONS ROAR!" And we'd erupt in an ear-splitting roar (even Monty) because we weren't seniors or juniors; we were LIONS and LIONS ROAR, and we'd go out to inevitable victory. When Coach Rush died unexpectedly a few years later, he was so beloved that there was a motion to name the stadium after him.

"The tone of our truth-telling can build a wall or a bridge," said Ed Waltz.

Ed and his wife, Barb, from Ann Arbor, Michigan, should know. They witnessed two types of truth-telling by two doctors. The Waltz's daughter, Deb, has cerebral palsy.

Barb had hoped that Deb would walk one day. After performing a battery of tests, the first doctor led Ed and Barb into a small conference room where he bluntly laid out for them what they could expect. In a tone that was cold and emotionally disconnected from his patient, the doctor said, "It is extremely unlikely that your daughter will ever walk."

Still in a state of shock from the devastating news, Barb asked, "But what kind of shoes should I buy for my daughter?" She was thinking about some special corrective shoes, or perhaps shoes connected to a brace.

Without softening the blow, the doctor retorted, "Buy her whatever kind of shoes you want. She won't be using them to walk in." And with that, he quickly left the room, where Barb burst into tears.

Several months later, the family met with a second doctor. This time the entire scene felt different, though. Ed said, "My wife asked this new doctor essentially the same question she had asked the first one. She was still wondering if there was anything we could do that might enable our daughter to take even a few steps."

The doctor paused for a moment, thinking. Then, he looked compassionately and directly into Barb's eyes and said, "You know what I would do if I were you, Mrs. Waltz? I'd buy my daughter the prettiest little pink shoes I could find, with purple shoe laces."

Barb knew what he meant.

Ed said, "We talked about our experience on the way home. Both doctors had told us the same thing—Deb would never walk. I'm ashamed to say what we felt like doing to the first doctor, but we felt like hugging the second doctor."

How we tell the truth makes a difference in how that truth is received.

Trying to grow spiritually without hearing the truth about yourself from somebody else is like trying to do brain surgery on yourself without a mirror.

Imagine picking your car up from the shop after a routine tune-up, and the technician says, "This car is in great shape. Clearly you have an automotive genius to take great care of your car." Later that day, your brakes don't work. You find out you were out of brake fluid. You could have died.

You go back to the shop, and you say, "Why didn't you tell me?" The technician replies, "Well, I didn't want you to feel bad. Plus, to be honest, I was afraid you might get upset with me. I want this to be a safe place where you feel loved and accepted." You'd be furious! You'd say, "I didn't come here for a little fantasy-based ego boost! When it comes to my car, I want the truth."

Or imagine going to the doctor's office for a check-up. The doctor says to you, "You are a magnificent physical specimen. You have the body of an Olympian. You are to be congratulated." Later that day while climbing the stairs, your heart gives out. You find out later your arteries were so clogged that you were, like, one jelly doughnut away from the grim reaper.

You go back to the doctor and say, "Why didn't you tell me?" The doctor says, "Well, I knew your body is in worse shape than the Pillsbury doughboy, but if I tell people stuff like that, they get offended. It's bad for business. They don't come back. I want this to be a safe place where you feel loved and accepted." You'd be furious! You'd say to the doctor, "When it comes to my body, I want the truth!"

Obviously, when something matters to us, we do not want illusory comfort based on pain avoidance. We want truth.

Christian author and speaker Dennis Rainey recounts a story of visiting a clothing store with his 13-year-old daughter. While he was waiting inside the store for his daughter to pick out a sweater, Rainey noticed a life-sized poster of a young man who was completely nude. When Rainey asked to speak to the store's manager, the following conversation ensued:

I shared with him that I had six children and was a good customer; then I said very kindly, "This picture … I'm sorry, but it's just indecent." I thought I'd get agreement.

Instead he quipped, "I beg to differ with you, sir. By whose standards?"

A little stunned by his response, I replied with measured firmness, "By any standard of real morality …. Sir, if that picture is not indecent, then I'd like you to get in a similar pose to that guy in the picture."

He looked at the picture, looked at my daughter, then back at me …. There was a moment of silence, full of anticipation. Then he shook his head and said, "Huh-uh."

I smiled and said, "You know, it's a good thing you didn't drop your pants, because you could have been arrested for indecent exposure."

Then he replied, "If you think that's bad, you should see our catalog."

So I went over and opened the catalog. One photo showed four teenage girls in bed with a boy …. I pushed the catalog back and said, "I'd like you take my name and phone number. I'd like someone from your corporate office to give me a call."

To which he politely said, "Sir, I can take your name and address, but they're not interested. They really don't care what you think."

My response was kind but firm: "I just want you to know I'm only one customer. I'm just a daddy of six kids, but I have a lot of friends. And I want you to know that wherever I go, I'm going to use this episode as an illustration of a company that doesn't care about the future of our young people, their morality, or the future of our nation."

Dennis Rainey concluded this story with a challenge:

One of the greatest lies of our day is that one man, one husband, or one dad can't make a difference. As a single man, you can protect the innocence of a single woman you are dating by being a noble man of character …. As a husband and father, you are the warrior who has been charged with the duty of pushing back against the evil that seeks to prey on your wife, daughters, and sons. Stepping up to courageous manhood starts here. If you don't step up, who will?