I don’t care

I, along with about 100 million other people sat down to watch the Kansas City Chief defeat the San Francisco 49ers last Sunday.  As football games go, it was a decent game.  Yet, despite the quality of the game, I had trouble getting very excited about any aspects of the event. There was really only one outcome that I was desperately hoping for…a tie score at the end of regulation…because if the game were to go into overtime…everyone in America would get free wings from Buffalo Wild Wings.  Unfortunately, it became apparent that as the game neared its finality, chicken wings were not going to be a part of my future. 

What was my deal? Why the apathy? I guess the bottom line is…I just didn’t care.  I didn’t really care if the Chiefs and Patrick Mahomes win or if the 49ers come out on top.  I didn’t really care if Andy Reid finally wins a Super Bowl. I didn’t care about Katie Sowers’ time in the spotlight.  Nothing against any of them…sorry world…I just didn’t care.  I didn’t care if or how many touchdown’s Jimmy Garapolo would throw.  In fact, Jimmy could crack corn and I wouldn’t care. It’s just a football game, and so I think I have license to not care…granted…if the Minnesota Viking had played??? I likely would have cared too much.

What do we care about? What makes us passionate about things in life?  Is it just a purple uniform? I care about my wife and children, as I would hope most people would. I care about my siblings…but that hasn’t always been the case.  I can’t adequately express the inner pleasure that I would feel as a child, causing my little brother pain.  When he would irritate me and approach me with that little smug, “You can’t touch me or I will tell Mom, expression,” I would lie wait ready to attack him with the jawbone of a dead cat. 

“Ouch! I am bleeding! I’m  telling Mom!”

“I don’t care! You deserve it…you wouldn’t stop ‘looking’ at me…and then you crossed the imaginary line in the back seat of the car!”

It was the same with my sister.  “Mom! Ryan cut the hair of my Barbie!”

“Bwa haha…Mom’s not hear! Now I will lock you in the basement.”

She sobbed and cried…but I didn’t care.

But I do now.  I remember my younger brother having a tough stretch in college.  He was enduring car trouble, people trouble, financial trouble and likely more.  I cared.  I wanted to do something, so my wife and I put together a simple package of delicious goodies, useful supplies and a check to help him out and we mailed it to him.

My sister and her husband have trying to adopt 3 beautiful foster children that have been in their care for over a year now.  I care that she is frustrated with the legal challenges. I care that her heart is sometimes heavy and sometimes hurts. 

My older brother?...He can care for himself.

I care when my kids are emotionally hurt. When they are physically hurt…not as much…they can take a deep breath, rub some dirt on it and get over it. But, emotionally?…I seem to care a little bit more about that. I care when my wife carries the heavy burdens that only I know that she carries.

I care about how people are treated in our community.  That is not always the case.  Sometimes I distance myself from caring.  Sometimes it is easier to choose to not see.  In Acts 6:1-7, we find the early church in a moment of not fully caring.

The church in Jerusalem was growing and it was still primarily made up of all Jews.  However, some of these Jews grew up in a Greek culture (Hellenistic), and many were true Hebraic Jews…holding to all of the ancient traditions of the Hebrew people. It comes to the Apostles attention that the Grecian Jewish widows are not being cared for. There is prejudice against them because they are not “true” Hebrew Jewish Christians.  They are ALL followers of Christ! The Apostles see this issue…and they care…with everyone’s input, they select 7 men…to care.  These are the people who will help ensure that people in the church will be cared for…while the Apostles continue to care for the spiritual needs…these 7 will help care for the physical needs.  BOTH…are to be evident in the church.

What do you care about?