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Just a Little Patience… Yeahhhhhhh-Yeah…

07 Monday Oct 2019

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“Said’ Woman, take it slow, and it’ll work itself out fine. All we need, is a little patience.”

When I heard Axel melodically whine that line in the early 90’s, twelve-year-old me was floored. It spoke to my pre-teen soul. Love struck, teen-aged me would listen to that song on repeat over the following decade when it mirrored back my most recent heartbreak. And, I would be lying if I said that as an adult, I haven’t had many a long drive with the windows down and volume up, wind in my face as Duff, Slash, and Axel switched up the tempo for the last stanza and hit me in the chest with that chunky D/F#-G acoustic progression, only to remind me that all I need, “Is a little pat-ience… yeeeeaaaahhhhhhh…. Need a little pati-ence… yeeeeeaaaahhhhhhh…”

            I am not a patient man. I don’t wait well. Saying “patience is a virtue” to me (or anyone who suffers from anxiety) is akin to saying “you know, sobriety is good for you,” to an addict, or “you should really eat less salt and fat,” to someone with high-blood pressure.

            THANK YOU CAPTAIN OBVIOUS! I’m cognoscente and aware that having and practicing a patient attitude would be the preferred mode of thinking for a happy and healthy mental state of being. I know that I would experience a great deal less stress if I learned to take a deep breath and truly give it (whatever “it” is) to God. I understand that I can’t proactively change anything, or make what I desire come to fruition by dwelling on it. Obsessing over it. Pining for it. Wishing for change. I get it, trust me.

            But…

            But, I can’t seem to help it. I can fake it. I can look like I’m cool-as-a-cucumber from the outside. James Dean and The Fonz sitting on motorcycles, sunglasses on, perfectly quaffed hair blowing in the breeze, cool. Inside, it’s a manic, frustrated different story. Inside I’m begging God to fix it. Pleading with Him to make it better. Yelling into the quiet vacuum that is my prayer life, asking why He isn’t responding. Why hasn’t He answered my prayer? Doesn’t He know that I really want it? Doesn’t He care that I’m hurting? Why is He ignoring my pain? WHY?!?!

            He whispers, “Patience.”

            I scream, “But Lord!”

            He sooths, “Wait.”

            I panic, “But what if…?”

            He calmly encourages, “Be still.”

            I frantically pace and concoct manic contingencies to play every angle of my issue, “But if I don’t do something now, look what could happen! I have to act!”

            He softly proclaims, “Know that I AM God.”

            What does that mean? Know that I am God. I know He’s God. His name is… God. Mine is Nick. Seems pretty simple to me.

            If that’s the case why do I constantly act as if I’m Him? I try to take on the responsibility for the outcome of my life. I try to control the uncontrollable. I attempt to dictate the direction of the wind to blow in my favor, then I panic when it won’t fill my sails when I want it to.

            Patience means waiting. But what are we waiting for? I can tell you what I’m waiting for. I’m waiting for my own personal Genie-Jesus to grant my wish. The way I asked, when I ask for it. Is that too much to ask? When I look at my life and how I react to things, I am struck by how many times The Lord has failed to answer my prayer in the affirmative. The truth is He answers every prayer, it’s just that sometimes the answer is, no.

            No? Wait, I thought I was supposed to be able to do all things through Christ who loves and strengthens me. I thought if I prayed for it hard enough I could get my wish granted. I know what’s best. I can see the big picture. Gimme!

            Know that I am God. Let’s explore that. What can God do? What is He capable of? Short / Simple answer: everything. He’s God. So if that’s the case why isn’t He doing what I’ve asked? Because Daddy knows best, that’s why. A parent knows what is good for their child. Even when that child is vehement that their plan is the best course of action. A parent’s job is to look at the big picture and extrapolate out the possible outcomes of the choice the child has proposed. More often than not my answer to my own two young son’s is, No. The second most common answer they get is, “Maybe, it depends how you act”. Third on my list is, “Yes, but later.”

            Think about what God says to you when you pray for what you think you need. In my own experience I would say that very few times in my life have I asked for something from God and immediately, “SHA-ZAAM!” it has come to pass. There are lessons in the waiting. There are things to listen to in the quiet. We just have to be willing to, be still. To wait. To be patient and obedient. To trust that God has our best interests in mind and only wants what best for us, even though we may have convinced ourselves of the contrary.

            So I sit in my car. Driving. Listening to the tires kiss the pavement and the wind howl in my open window. Panicking. Fretting. Planning. Scheming.

            “Lord, please let me have it.”

            “No.”

            “Please God, let it happen the way I want it to.”

            “Maybe, it depends on how you act and how much you can grow to be ready.”

            “Jesus, please let them love me.”

            “Not yet. Have….”

My stereo pops to life and I hear the voice of an old friend backed by a trio of acoustic guitars, “a little pat-ience… yeeeeaaaahhhhhhh…. Need a little pati-ence… yeeeeeaaaahhhhhhh…”

I look up, take a deep breath, and nod. Smooth, Lord. Smooth.

Copyright 2019: V. Nicholas Gerasimou

No portion of this work may be stored or transmitted in an electronic storage or retrieval system without the express written permission of the author.

Get out of the boat: Faith, Courage, & Belief.

26 Thursday May 2016

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In the Bible, the Apostle Peter walked on water. Most people automatically connect that talent with Jesus Christ, but in the fourteenth chapter of Matthew, we read about how Jesus was out for a leisurely stroll on the Sea of Galilee, in a gale no less, and told Peter to walk out to him. No big deal. We read that Peter got out of the boat and started to walk on water toward The Lord. But then poor Peter falters. He takes his eyes off of Jesus and begins focusing on the wind, and the waves, and the fact that he is, oh… I don’t know, WALKING ON WATER! Fear and doubt overtake him and he begins to sink. He cries out to Jesus for help and The Lord reaches out and catches his hand. Poor Peter. He failed. He floundered. He almost fell flat.

They look at each other, Peter trying to catch his breath, blinking away the sea-spray, and Jesus patiently waiting for him to collect himself. With chaos all around them and a boat full of onlookers marveling in wonder from behind them, Jesus calmly leans in and says, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

What did Peter feel in that moment? Guilt? Shame? Relief he didn’t drown? Maybe gratitude for being saved? What we do know for sure is that he had just proved his lack of faith in God. He fell. Jesus had to lift him up. How embarrassing. And in front of his friends too.

I fear some of us may be missing an important point about this event. What I mean is there is more than one message to learn from this passage.

What does it mean to have faith? I guess that would be dependent on what you have faith in. For example, I had faith that the chair I’m sitting in would support my weight. I didn’t even think about it. I just sat down. No debate or fear. I had faith. It’s easy to have faith in things I can see. Things I can test. Things that can empirically prove to me over a protracted duration of trial and error that they won’t let me down.

What about things I can’t see? How about… air? I can’t see it (that’s not entirely true, high pressure system, Southern-California smog begs to differ). I can’t hold it in my hand. I can’t smell it (I refer back to my aside on smog). But I know it’s there. I trust it will keep me alive, nourish my tissues, and I can feel it caress my skin when the Santa Ana’s whip it out to sea. I believe in air.

Faith is typically defined as a complete trust or confidence in something or someone. Faith in love, humanity, in God. Faith in the hope that everything is going to work out. Faith in faith. Even atheists have faith. They have faith and believe that there is no God.

But I think that people paint Old Peter with a very broad stroke. What we are missing is that faith can ebb and flow. Faith can be dented, or hidden, or momentarily overshadowed by tragedy or trauma. We can get lost and take our eyes off the prize.

Peter took his eyes off of God and started focusing on the storm around him. He let the chaos he found himself in get in the way of his faith in the Lord, who happened to be standing directly in front of him. He was human, and like all of us flawed, weak, and afraid.

Yes Peter failed one test of faith, but what many miss is that moments prior he passed a test that I personally admire and hold in very high esteem.

He got out of the boat.

Peter got out of the boat. He did something that went against every rational impulse that a mortal, person governed by the laws of physics should have done.

He took his faith in God and put it into practical action, He had faith that God would support him on the water. He got out of the boat! That’s crazy when you really think about it.

We just accept it all because it’s in the Bible but really take a minute and think about it. You’re Peter. You’ve had a really long day. It was hot. Muggy. Dusty. You just received word that Jesus’s cousin John the Baptist was beheaded by Herod. Throngs of people from across Judea flocked to Jesus for healing and blessing and prayer and encouragement. You did your best to facilitate some type of order.

Crowd control was a lost cause. You were pushed, stepped on, shoved, bumped, complained to, and possibly yelled at. People get grumpy when they’re hungry. Later that evening you tell Jesus, “Hey Lord, it’s getting late and we’re kind of out in the middle of nowhere. We should probably send these people home to get a bite to eat and get some shuteye.” The Lord shakes His head and says (I’m paraphrasing), “No, we’ll feed them, bring me what we have.” You look around at the thousands of people and then down at the measly five loaves of bread and two scrawny fish you’ve managed to scrounge up. “Uhh, Lord. I think we may have a problem.” Jesus smiles a knowing smile and blesses the food, hands it to you and your companions and tells you to feed the crowd. The bread is never ending. It simply regenerates out of the basket as do the fish. You watch in amazement as a feast is seemingly created from nothing. Is there nothing this guy can’t do?

It’s night. Jesus tells you and the other disciples to go ahead of him on the boat and he’ll catch up. Catch up? Is he going to swim over? But you do as you’re told. As soon as you cast off the beach a storm picks up. Wind gusts whip up seven foot swells. Waves crash against the hull of your small fishing boat. Worry tugs at your heart. This is bad. Where is God when you need Him? Hours pass. Maybe you doze off, maybe not. Then someone sees a ghost. A cry goes out on the boat and everyone looks port. A hazy form looks to be approaching where you’re floating. Cries of fear escape your lips.

Then from the water you hear a familiar voice, “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” It can’t be. Could it? Is that Jesus? Walking on the water? Am I hallucinating? Well, I have seen him do some pretty amazing things, you think to yourself. I have faith in him. I trust him. So when he tells you to get out of the boat and defy every natural, rational survival impulse you have… you do it.

Sometimes God asks us to do things that don’t make all that much sense to us at the time. Things that scare us. Things that push us out of our comfort zone. Things we could get ridiculed for, or looked down at for, or lose Earthly position or possessions for.

He asks us to do these things with no more than His word, and a promise that He is in control and has our best interests in mind.

Share the gospel with that stranger (What if they don’t listen?). Share the gospel with your family (What if they reject me?). Give your money to the poor (What if I don’t have enough left for me?). Volunteer, serve, and help (What if I don’t have the time or don’t get compensated?) Give that up (But I like it.) Stop spending time with them (But I’ll miss them.)

The point I’m trying to make is Peter deserves more credit for this story than he gets. God ultimately gets all the glory, but from a human standpoint wherein we can take a valuable lesson away from an event, I feel that taking that first step was courageous.

God calls us to step away from this world and into what He has planned for us. We will all falter. We will all fail. We will all constantly sin (unfortunately). Those facts are a given. What’s most important is that we stay faithful and step out in faith toward what God has called us to do.

Get out of the boat.

Nick Gerasimou is a father of two, author, blogger, and educator based out of South Orange County, Ca.

http://www.vnicholasgerasimou.com

Angels, Demons, and the Greatest Trick the Devil Ever Pulled.

18 Wednesday May 2016

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The Bible says that at some point in time, there was a civil war in heaven. It was waged between two opposing factions spawned out of an eternal race of spiritual beings that The Lord God created before He breathed life into His ultimate creation… humans. These angelic beings were divided by a violation of a loyalty ideology which ultimately tore them apart.

There was a particular angelic being whom we have a number of names for. Lucifer, Satan, the Devil, the Great Dragon, the Crafty Serpent, the Deceiver, the Father of Lies, the Destroyer… the list goes on and on. What we do know based on scripture is that he was an angel of light. God created him to be one of the leaders of the angelic forces. He was powerful and beautiful; on par with Michael the general of God’s armies. God elevated him to a lofty position in heaven and unfortunately it began to go to his head.

Then one day back in time immemorial, Lucifer made a proclamation. He declared that he was his own god. He bought into his own hype and demanded the same praise and worship that he was originally created to give to God. He was apparently also a gifted motivational speaker, much in the way Hitler was gifted at getting people to think what he wanted them to (I’m assuming Lucifer had something to do with that). He convinced one third of the angelic beings to adhere to his new personal life philosophy and doom themselves to damnation by rebelling against the One True God who created them.

So they fought. How fierce the battle was, how long it raged, the actual violence or literal logistical combat that occurred we unfortunately aren’t privy to. The Bible is silent on this epic event. What we do know is that Lucifer and his rebels were cast out of heaven and now roam the Earth. Again, the literal, day-to-day logistics of this existence is a mystery to us. But we are told that they are here.

We also know that God’s holy angelic forces are among us, working on His behalf for the benefit of His kingdom. The word angel loosely translates to messenger. Those holy beings have appeared to humans in physical form over the eons. We have a number of documented accounts in the Bible. They have delivered messages, given prophecy, and even supernaturally and physically saved people from harm or death.

This reality has always fascinated me. The fact that an unseen world is thriving in a plane of existence that we aren’t able to see, but which we are at the same time intimately involved in hurts my head. The fact that a legion of powerful spiritual beings that literally hate the fact I exist are locked in combat with others who are dedicated to my protection and salvation through Jesus Christ captivates my imagination.

As I write this, could there be an angelic protector standing behind me, looking over my shoulder? Could there be another being, filled with hate and rage at the fact that God loves me and chose me over him, standing on the other side of my desk screaming blasphemies and lies at me that I perceive as doubt, or negative thoughts, or sinful desires? Does the evil voice flying out of that ancient mouth sound like my own in my head? Can they cause my anxiety? Throw me into depression? I’m confident my emotional issues are chemically driven, but is there a spiritual component as well? Do they fight over me? What does that look like? Do they have swords? Armor? I don’t know but I’d sure love to.

Now, today in 2016, in the era of instant access to information from every corner of the planet, we have become a bit desensitized. As a culture we are inundated with dramatic images, horrific stories, and as Americans, reports of strife and war from the other side of the world. We are culturally numb to pain, and crime, and death. It’s tragic.

But I have at times wondered why Satan, who is the general of the fallen army, hasn’t made his grand appearance. I know the Bible foretells why. There is a time and place for him to do this in the last seven years before The Lord comes back. The script has been written. But I wonder why If Satan knows the end of the story and his ultimate fate, why he doesn’t break role and try to change it up?

Defiance? Maybe. I think the more likely answer is pride. Stubbornness. He must be so defiant and filled with rage that he will fight to the end out of duty to his narcissism. Anger can blind. Why doesn’t he appear to us? Why doesn’t he command his soldiers to take physical form and wreak havoc on the Earth?

The answer to that question has to be strategy. He is an expert on human nature. He has been studying us for eons. He knows our weaknesses. He knows our flaws. He knows how our brains work, literally. He is the father of lies.

If they appeared to us and made a public declaration that was then instantly broadcast on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, and YouTube, the globe would no longer question the validity of the Bible. Millions, if not Billions of people would instantly turn to Jesus out of fear and the reality of the spiritual realm. Satan wants to rule us, and ultimately destroy as many of us as he can in the time he has left on Earth.

As I said, he knows how the story ends. He has to know deep down that he loses in the end. He is condemned. An analogy involving a lack of peripheral vision and a swimming pool comes to mind when I ponder this truth.

When someone’s hands suddenly meet you squarely in the back between the shoulder blades, and your center of gravity is violently propelled forward over the open expanse of blue chlorinated water, what is the first thing you do? You reach out and try to pull as many people as you can in with you as you go down. Misery loves company.

Satan wants to take as many people down with him as he can. He hates us. In the movie The Usual Suspects, Verbal Kint played masterfully by Kevin Spacy says, “The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he doesn’t exist.” It’s a masterful strategy. To let the sinful nature that resides in each of us to simply win out. Maybe with some subtle coaxing and subversive suggestions to do what he did. To be our own gods. To follow our own paths. To get what’s owed us. To focus on the world and our sinful flesh, rather than on our God who loves us.

What can I say… it’s worked pretty well so far. There’s a quote in the 2014 film “God’s Not Dead” that I think encapsulates this paradigm perfectly. In it a man named Mark is yelling at his live-in girlfriend’s mother who suffers from Dementia and Alzheimer’s. He says, “You prayed and believed your whole life. Never done anything wrong. And here you are. You’re the nicest person I know. I am the meanest. You have dementia. My life is perfect. Explain that to me!” She sits silently in her comatose state then suddenly as if supernaturally the woman’s eyes clear and she turns to him and says, “Sometimes the devil allows people to live a life free of trouble because he doesn’t want them turning to God. Their sin is like a jail cell, except it is all nice and comfy and there doesn’t seem to be any reason to leave. The door’s wide open. Till one day, time runs out, and the cell door slams shut, and suddenly it’s too late.”

Think about it. In a battle for the mind and soul that revolves around people choosing of their own free will to acknowledge and accept a truth about the One True God, and His Sacrifice for our sins through His son, the God incarnate person of Jesus Christ, how would you stop people from traveling down the path to salvation?

Would you manifest yourself in all of your horrible, terrifying, rage-filled, supernatural glory? No. That would polarize people. It would crystallize a binary truth and force a choice.

No, instead you would subtlety lead people astray. Satan is playing the long game.

You would influence people and play on their selfish desires. You would take eons to slowly chip away at the concept of absolute truth. If there is but one way to salvation and to God, you would introduce doctrines over the millennia that run contrary to that belief.

You would appear to groups of people across the globe and do what you do best… lie. You would sell the idea that there are an infinite number of paths to Heaven and to God. Chi. Shakra. Reincarnation. Nature worship.

You would set up entire religions based on worshiping legions of your minions who profess to be gods. Polytheism. You would set up your minions and lead them through thousands of years of foundational, traditional religious establishment. Generations would be indoctrinated with your lies. You would become legend and lore.

You would appear to a man in a cave in 610.AD and tell him you are the Archangel Gabriel. You would then dictate a new holy book to him denying Jesus. You would tell him that he is God’s final prophet. Maybe you supernaturally give him the ability to spread his message to the world. Keep pulling people down into the pool.

Maybe you appear to a young, gullible, struggling man in Vermont in the early 1800’s. Maybe you appear as angel of light calling yourself Moroni and indoctrinate him with a new revelation of God that runs contrary to the simple truth of who Jesus Christ is and His sacrifice for our sins. Maybe you give him a supernatural boost to help him spread the new message? More people down into the pool.

Look at every Semi-Christian or Bible-Based cult or group and you will find threads of commonality. The denial of Jesus Christ as God incarnate and a member of the Holy trinity. The denial of the authenticity of scripture and the need to add to it. The need to break the ties to Jesus’s sacrifice as the only means of salvation.

Sound familiar? Maybe you slowly influence global society to fight against absolute truth, and accept an all-inclusive do what is right in your own eyes mentality. Slowly the lines between right and wrong, good and bad, moral and not, truth and lie are erased. The value of life, gender, sexuality, freedom, choice, expression all become fluid concepts.

All from behind the scenes. Brilliant strategy.

Splash. Splash. Splash. More people plunge into the pool.

Like I said at the outset, I am endlessly curious of what is actually happening behind the scenes. Literally. I want to know how it actually works. Nuts and bolts.

To that end, I attacked this concept and wrote a book about it. In 2015 I published “Hidden Steps: Behind the Veil”. It is a fictional story about a young man named Conner. Conner lives the typical college life of a sinful non-believing twenty year old. He feels the tug of Jesus on his heart but fights it with everything he has. During the book we are privy to four snapshots of his life at pivotal moments in his spiritual journey. They test his faith, strength, and sanity. He escapes death, blindly stumbles onto the path The Lord has set before him, and ultimately accepts Jesus before he is faced with a monumental choice where more than one life hangs in the balance. In it you get to experience how I see God’s master plan play out in the life of one young man, and how things that seem a lot like luck or random chance can be much, much more.

I then retell each chapter from the viewpoint of the angelic and demonic beings that the Bible teaches are all around us. I tried to show how I believe the battle for our souls rage beyond what we can perceive. The prospect simultaneously fills me with dread and wonder. Security and fear.

I believe in God and Jesus Christ and His sacrifice for my sins. That means I believe in the Bible. That means I believe in angels, which also means I have to believe in fallen angels or demons.

If you want a unique perspective on the spiritual world, and are intrigued by my viewpoints (and writing style) I hope you will consider grabbing a copy of my latest book. On sale right now for $9.34 on Amazon.

Thank you so much and God Bless!

Nick

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http://www.amazon.com/Hidden-Steps-Behind-Nicholas-Gerasimou/dp/0692235159/ref=pd_rhf_gw_p_img_5?ie=UTF8&refRID=1MRE8DTKXRXD1Z7TEEE9

Why Everyone Should Train Jiu-Jitsu at Least Once in Their Life: (Part 3) – The old gray mare just ain’t what she used to be.

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How long do our bodies last? Can you train into your golden years?

The definition of perpetual motion is, “[T]he motion of a theoretical mechanism that, without any losses due to friction or other forms of dissipation of energy, would continue to operate indefinitely at the same rate without any external energy being applied to it.” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary)

How cool would that be? For anything really, but more specifically for us. For these “Mortal Coils” as Shakespeare’s brain child Hamlet put it, to last forever.

Unfortunately for us God built in a fail-safe. We call it Thermodynamics. Who knows what He calls it.

The first law of Thermodynamics states that matter/energy cannot be created nor can it be destroyed. The quantity of matter/energy remains the same. It can change from solid, to liquid, to gas, to plasma and back again, but the total amount of matter/energy in the universe remains constant. Okay, so the energy in a light bulb, is the energy in your iPhone, is the same energy in a turkey sandwich. Is just switches from form to form, place to place, forever into eternity into the far reaches of the universe.

It’s the second law that’s a bummer.

The second law of thermodynamics is commonly known as the Law of Increased Entropy. This is the law that is most important to my point. It states that while quantity remains the same (First Law), the quality of matter/energy deteriorates gradually over time. It’s the basic tendency of a system to break down. For things to fall apart. Hot coffee set out on a counter gets cold. Why? Where does the heat go? The fabric of your favorite pair of jeans wears out. Why? What happens to the molecules that make up the fibers which make up the material? Have you ever dropped a hand full of marbles on a tile floor? Why do they erratically and explosively disperse? Why don’t they just bounce in place forever? Staying uniformed, tidy and perfect. Why do they stop bouncing at all?

Entropy. Entropy is why. The tendency of a system to deteriorate and slow down. Energy disperses and flies off into dark alleys of the Andromeda Galaxy, and things fall apart. Unfortunately the same principle applies to us. We don’t last forever. As we get older this fact becomes more apparent, and more painful.

Injuries are a part of life. You live long enough and you’re going to get hurt. Carrying groceries in from the car, walking down the stairs in the dark in the middle of the night to get a glass of water while you’re still half asleep, heck I’ve thrown my back out picking up a decorative throw-pillow whilst making the bed. True story, don’t tell anyone.

If you’re an active person, let’s say you go to 24 hour fitness and lift and trudge through thirty minutes of cardio twice a week, your chances of injury go up. And if you train and compete in the world of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu that “chance” becomes an inevitability, and you are pretty much guaranteed a storied list of ailments to nurse over your career on the mats.

Combat sports are just that… combat. You are using your body to physically subdue, submit, or pummel another human being until they are no longer theoretically a threat.

Age is cruel mistress in this game. As you age in the Jiu-Jitsu world, you get placed on a sliding scale. As your pure testosterone filled, youth driven athletic ability wanes, your earned wisdom and experience increases. The hope is that as you age and train, your intellect advances at the same pace at which your body falls apart and you maintain your level of ability with your teammates. That’s the hope anyway.

As I stated in my earlier posts about Jiu-Jitsu, I didn’t jump into this world until I was thirty years old. By thirty I was already in a constant state of repair. College football did a number on me. Torn rotator, herniated lumber disks, thin meniscus, etc… etc. But I tell you what, I was exponentially more “Peppy” at 30 than I am now at 42.

Since I began my journey I have had:

  1. 1 shoulder surgery (I need another)
  2. A Lumbar Micro-Discectomy on L-4 and L-5 (Probably going to need another at some point)
  3. Full ACL Reconstruction in my right knee + a Meniscus that looks like a shredded piece of notebook paper
  4. 5 dislocated fingers
  5. 1 dislocated toe
  6. A torn calf muscle
  7. 1 popped elbow capsule
  8. Torn ligaments in my right wrist
  9. An uncountable number of bumps, bruises, blisters, bloody lips and noses, and black eyes.

The point is I am never “healthy”, nor will you be if you choose to commit yourself to Jiu-Jitsu. At 30 I could still “Pop”. With adrenaline I could torque my body into unnatural positions and explode out of a bad situation. Now, today, I have had to alter my game a bit.

As you age you must adapt. Your body changes and if you want to continue training into your 40’s, 50’s, 60’s and so on, you need to make certain physical concessions.

Everyone says that Jiu-Jitsu is a pride-less sport. In theory yes, that is in the club charter, but in reality we all have a bit of hubris that drives us. We don’t like to lose. We enjoy victory.

When I began Jiu-Jitsu I was a bull. That was my game. I played top. I dreaded being on my back. It made me feel like a helpless upturned tortoise. I was strong, aggressive, fast & quick (there’s a difference) and athletic. I prided myself on smashing people from the top. I ate people’s guards for breakfast. I passed people’s guards and crushed them in side-control. My instructors gave me a nickname that I still go by today. “Passodor”. It’s a fun way to say, “The man who passes” or “The passer man” in Portuguese (I think?). That became my identity. I passed. White-Belt through Purple I passed.

But as I have aged and progressed in my Jiu-Jitsu journey, I have adapted. I’ve had to. Injuries made it necessary. After my shoulder surgery I rehabbed and had to adapt. Now, if I’m on bottom I will simply give up a position and let people pass to my left because I still have no shoulder mobility. I can’t lift it above my head to this day so I protect it. I roll with that in mind now, it’s just second nature. It’s a part of my game. I keep my left arm close to my chest and wait. My right knee has made it near impossible to play any closed guard game, so now I’m an open guard / spider / half guard guy.

But here’s where the pride part comes in. If a person happens to get a hold of my left arm and I can see where they’re going with it, and I think that there may be a chance it’s going to be put into a painful position… I tap. Preemptively. Before they have a chance to finish the move. No pride. I have to.

Basically I’ve had to accept that I will never be a world champion Jiu-Jitsu player. I am a 42 year old hobbyist. I get in to train maybe twice a week if I’m lucky. I have two young sons who now also train, a career that makes training consistently difficult, and a body that screams at me for days after a hard training session.

I let people pass. I have to let people put me in bad situations. I have to let people win. Reason being, I want to be able to walk tomorrow. I want to be able to hold my kids above my head at the park. I’ve had to put Jiu-Jitsu into perspective as I’ve aged.

It is a great workout. It’s fun. It is a place where I can hang out with some good friends I’ve made over the years. It’s a challenging sport where I can still experience a level of the competitiveness that still drives me, and that has pushed me through my high school and college years. I get enjoyment and fulfillment from training.

I am a brown-belt hobbyist Jiu-Jitsu player and if The Lord Jesus allows my body to do it, one day I will be awarded my black-belt. And if that happens I will be eternally grateful and proud of that accomplishment. It will mean that I dedicated over ten years of my life to a sport which I love, and that I was lucky and blessed enough to do something with my body that a very, very, very small percentage of the world’s population are able to do.

So to my aging Jits brothers and sisters out there, keep training. Ice, heat, Advil, repeat. Take the time to properly warm up. Stretch. Listen to your body. Adapt, and simply enjoy the time you are on the mats because it is finite, and you don’t know how long you’re going to be able to do it.

Nick Gerasimou is currently a Brown Belt under Juliano Prado at ‘Total MMA Studios’ in Tustin, CA. He is an author and educator and his works are available on AMAZON.

Purchase his latest novel on AMAZON:

http://www.amazon.com/Hidden-Steps-Behind-The-Veil/dp/0692235159/ref=pd_rhf_gw_p_img_1?ie=UTF8&refRID=1YJ03XJJ5TD85M99NE05

Corporate Religion vs. Faith: Subtitle: The Pope, the Whole Pope, and Nothing But the Pope: Sub-Subtitle: My take on Mans place in Christianity.

30 Wednesday Sep 2015

Posted by in Catholic, Christian, Faith, Religion

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So, I know religious division / sects / labeling / denominations / etc, are confusing and frustrating for those who don’t have a faith. They’re also confusing and frustrating for those who do, trust me. Religion is now widely looked at as more of a status symbol or a club affiliation than a relationship with The Almighty Creator.

“I am a Catholic.” Some say. “We are the original faith, 1.2 Billion strong. Revere me.”

“Oh yeah, well IIIIIIII’m a Lutheran. All the taste, half the ceremony.” Other’s retort.

“Well you’re both wrong,” a third religi-sizer interjects, “I’m a Southern-Baptist, Episcopalian, Charismatic, Faith-Healing, Christian-Scientist, with a side of hash browns. Nail that to your church door and smoke it.”

Sadly, I fear many are missing the point. Can’t see the forest through the trees, or maybe more appropriately, can’t see Christ through the stained-glass and incense.

If I had to label myself, I guess I’d say, I’m simply a follower of Jesus Christ, God incarnate whose ultimate once-and-for-all sacrifice made it possible for me to be forgiven for my plethora of continually compounding sins. So you can call me a Christian. I love and believe in Jesus Christ and Him alone. Period.

The reason I’m writing this piece is the fanatic hoopla that has been made over the Pope’s recent and historic visit to the United States. Every news outlet and media service has been focused on his every move. Every facial expression analyzed, every comment debated by political pundits. He dictates the church’s stance on important issues. He says what is forgiven, and what is not. The Pope offers blessings and absolves you from your shameful sins. He is, after all, the leader and head of over one-billion Catholics on planet Earth; is he not?

Is he? Is he really?

Well, my view is no. No he is not. Close your mouth. I know, how could I, right?

The Pope, the position of the Pope, the institution that has been established by the Catholic Church over the last 1600 or so years has been to elevate Men to glory and power using God as a vehicle. The Pope. His holiness. He is simply a man. Like anyone else. He sins just like everyone else. He has impure thoughts just like anyone else. He needs Jesus’s salvation just like anyone else.

He is no closer to God than anyone else. Read the Bible. [F]or all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. (Romans 3:23) It doesn’t say some have sinned. Or most have fallen short. All.

The fact that the “Catholic Church” has established a paradigm wherein a human man is the conduit for a “believer” to communicate with God, receive forgiveness, and “earn” salvation by works, or saying “Hail Marys” or penance, is appalling and directly against what the simple message of Jesus states.

The Pope is a man, and from what I’ve seen more of a politician than anything else. He is purporting to speak for God, enacting His will here on Earth. Again, if you read the scripture and listen to the message Jesus preached you will see that the institution of the Pope sounds eerily similar to the Pharisees and Sadducees which Jesus denounced time and time again.

They were the Jewish religious leaders of the time and they stood in between you and God. They were the only way you could communicate with The Lord. They dictated thousands of laws and regulations that you were required to keep under threat of banishment or ridicule, and they elevated themselves above all of their “parishioners” with an air of superiority, advanced social status, expensive and gaudy robes and adornments, and political power.

Sound familiar? Hint, hint. Nudge, nudge.

The truth is we all have a direct connection to God. A Fastpass to the front of the line. The Batphone if you will. All you need do is simply speak to Him. No buffer. No ceremony. No regulations. No ritual. All you really need to do is read the Bible to see that the majority of what occurs in the Catholic Church today is not found in the Scripture. It is nearly two millennia of men adding rituals, and road-blocks, and qualifiers, and restrictions to a relationship with Jesus to ultimately glorify themselves.

The Catholic Church is a business. A big, powerful, corporate business. A business with scratch in the political arena, and with a vested interest in global economics.

Now those raised in the Catholic Faith will be appalled to read this. I’m sure many will have a visceral reaction to hearing THE VICOR OF CHRIST being questioned. That is simply because for many Catholics, it was how they were raised. Its indoctrination at its finest and I get it. How dare I lambaste your Pope? How dare I blaspheme his holiness?

Therein lies the problem. He is not “His Holiness”. He is not holy at all. He is a man. The Lord Jesus is holy. The Lord Jesus is King. The Lord Jesus is in charge. Not Jorge Mario Bergoglio, Pope Francis, the 266th Holy Roman Emperor elected by the papal conclave by means of the College of Cardinals.

The Pope cannot forgive you. Nor can he, for example, forgive women who have had abortions (for only 1 year, act now) as he recently stated. The Lord Jesus does that of His own accord. He doesn’t need any help… Last time I checked, He was God.

So I guess the point of this rant is… Anything that takes your eyes off of Jesus and His simple message of love, relationship, and salvation from your sin… Is not Biblical.

Religion vs. Faith and Relationship. Religion says look at me to see how to reach God. Faith simply takes out the middle man (which is what Jesus preached all along). By the way, when Jesus breathed His final completely mortal human breath on the cross, Jerusalem was rocked by a jarring earthquake, “[A]nd the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. (Mark 15:38)”. The separation between man and God was torn asunder. No middle man. Its symbolic.

The Pope is a politician. Does he say nice things that are good for the world and the majority of people?

Yes.

Does he kiss children on the forehead and say beautiful blessings over them?

Yes.

Is he probably a very nice person who loves God in his own way?

Yes.

Is he the holy mouthpiece of Jesus Christ whom we must look to for a connection to God?

No.