anyone who knows me, knows i’m a huge fan of the clemson university fightin’ tigers. anyone who knows clemson, knows the school colors are purple and orange (northwest purple and burnt orange, to be specific). recently i began dating ashley, who is a fan/alumn of the louisiana state university fightin’ tigers. this past weekend found me tailgating with ashley and a large group of her friends and friends-who-are-like-family.
lsu was hosting the university of florida (but that part is largely immaterial to the story), and as such, wearing orange of any sort would have been a bad idea. but the good news is that clemson and lsu share the color purple. so in the spirit of supporting lsu while still supporting clemson, but without actually saying either, i wore a soft, comfy, purple shirt with no team logos at all.
now, i’ve been dealing with annoying lsu fans who think that i should shift allegiances just because i live in new orleans, and i’m not afraid of them. i could have even proudly worn a purple clemson shirt and been ok, but why aggravate the nice people in baton rouge if i don’ t have to? that certainly wouldn’t have helped win over ashley’s friends and friends-who-are-like-family.
now to the undercover part…
im sitting in a purple lsu camping chair, and i’m talking with people i’ve never met, and people wearing their purple and gold, and i’m thinking to myself, “they have no idea i’m not an lsu fan. they see the purple, and they assume i’m one of them. is this how an undercover cop feels?” i could have been a fan of any number of schools who share purple as a primary color. i was just hoping nobody wanted to get into a deep conversation about the depth of lsu’s offensive line. whew… that was a close one.
as the days went on i found myself comparing my situation to that of people who go to church wearing their own soft, comfy purple shirts, saying all the appropriate things just to fit in, to blend in, to look like they belong. i thought of the people who call themselves christians, but wear their soft, comfy purple shirt to work monday through friday just so they fit in.
we aren’t obvious about it. like my soft, comfy purple shirt, we give the appearance of belonging. we are so generic that unless someone looks closely or asks too many of the right/wrong questions, nobody will find us out. our soft, comfy purple shirt doesn’t say, “i’m a fan,” it says, “i could be a fan. i just want to fit in.”
are you just fitting in? are you at “church” just to have some fun, sing some cool songs, and maybe go out to eat at a cool restaurant with some cool people? are you hiding your true allegiances with a soft, comfy purple shirt with no logos so you can fit in at church?
are you the one who proudly displays your team logo at “church” but who goes with the soft, comfy purple shirt during the week so you can fit in at work, at school, at home? do you secretly dread being asked some question that will reveal you as a fake? doesn’t it suck that we bust out our soft, comfy purple shirt on a regular basis? that you even have one at all?
Jesus, knowing that he only had 33ish years to live on earth, opted not to wear the soft, comfy purple shirt of a carpenter, but humbly chose to wear the harsh, painful black shirt of our sins so that we don’t have to.
if you knew you only had one month to live, would you still wear your soft, comfy purple shirt? or would you bust out the *insert your team’s color here* (purple) shirt with *insert your team’s name here* (CLEMSON) proudly displayed across the front and/or back?
if you knew you only had one month to live, would you keep hiding at “church” or would you shed your soft, comfy anonymity and proudly display the love of God? would you take off your comfy shirt and get out in the world and make a difference?
no more questions. you don’t know how long you have – get in the game!
