It’s time to learn a lesson from Tebow
By Bob Becker
On anybody’s Big Man on Campus list, Florida quarterback Tim Tebow would rank No. 1.
The guy is 6-6, weighs 240, has movie star good looks and can throw a football through a wall. He won a Heisman Trophy in 2007, is odds-on favorite to win another this year and is about to run out of fingers for National Championship rings.
A lock as a No. 1 pick in last year’s National Football League draft…and at the millions of dollars that selection would bring…Tebow instead opted for yet another year of college ball.
Why? Because he likes playing college football, and he had an obligation to his teammates.
Money never entered the equation, because Tebow firmly believes that the reward that awaits him in heaven is way beyond any amount he can earn on earth.
Tebow is a Christian, and he doesn’t try to hide his faith. Instead, his relationship with Jesus is the center point of his life, and he lets his words and actions be his testimony.
Where other stars luxuriate in the spotlight, Tebow spends much of his free time spreading the Word, talking to prisoners or taking missions trip to South America.
He knows that as a national figure he can touch many people, so he makes a point to be straightforward about his faith, letting his actions talk louder than his words.
“He wants people to see what he believes through his actions,” Florida senior wideout David Nelson told a Sports Illustrated reporter. “He wants them to say, ‘I see the way you live your life, the passion you have, the fun you have, and I want what you’ve got’.”
What he has is a walk with the Lord. And he wants to share it.
On game days, Tebow notes his favorite verse (Phil 4:16) in the sun block under his eye: “I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.”
Last year, in the hours before the Gators were set to play Oklahoma in the BCS championship game, more than a dozen regulars were missing from their rooms. The Florida coaches, doing a bed check, started going wild when they couldn’t find the bulk of their stars.
And then they heard singing coming from Tebow’s room. He had called the players together because he had read a passage in Matthew (11:28) that touched him and helped him overcome his pre-game jitters. He wanted them to share his peace: “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humbled in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.”
The players were so moved by the Word that they started to share their testimonies, and eventually a hymn-sing broke out. Florida won the game and the National Championship.
Last week Tebow startled a mid-week press conference by announcing that he believes in abstinence, and that he has vowed to save himself for marriage. The reaction was immediate and disbelieving.
There is no Tim Tebow on the Cornerstone campus, nobody whose picture will grace the cover of Sports Illustrated or whose future includes a seven-figure pro sports income upon graduation.
But every athlete here could be LIKE Tim Tebow, turning their lives into living testimony, and that is important.
By definition, athletes stand out, because they do what they do in a spotlight, and they do what they do as representatives of Cornerstone. People know that Cornerstone is a Christian university, and they are watching to see how much of our lives is talk, and how much is real faith.
The greatest compliment any Cornerstone athlete can receive is to have an opponent or fan come up after a game and say “I don’t know what you have in your life that I don’t, but I want to find out!”
Testimony through deeds can be very inspiring. Humbleness after a win or big play, calmness in the face of a bad call, peace after a disappointing loss.
Tim Tebow plays to win, but he does it to bring glory to God. He lives in a glass house far larger than anyone here, but is comfortable there because he relishes the opportunity that gives him to spread the Word through his deeds.
If people leave a Cornerstone game unimpressed by our actions, then we have lost, no matter what the scoreboard says.