If we could wear our faith like a Letterman Jacket, it would look quite different; quite different in the unusual usual way of Gods upside down kingdom. A faith whose power stems from the foolishness of man, from the innocence of a child, from the humility of broken people and from the boasting in ones weakness not strength.

If we could wear our faith as a statement of who we are, it would be so different than others. Our world endorses the perceived power of ones own ability. Our society accomplishes itself by consuming to no end, in a world that believes success is defined by how much you own. Our culture gives lip services to the ideas of character and generosity that merely scratches the surface. Our worlds idea of sacrifice is to give in proportion to what you'll get back, absolutely strings attached and does more for your sponsors and your own PR.

Our culture adorns it's Letterman in what man has conquered, in what man's athletic ability has achieved, in what power man's intellect possesses. The American culture letters in physical beauty and medals in fictitious standards of size, shape, color and style. We commit to being lifetime Letterman of consumerism, medalist in the square footage of our homes, the sportiness of our cars and the number of unused toys in our garage. We know it doesn't bring happiness, but the bigger our TV's are, the more channels we have access to, the more gadgety toys we possess, the better we feel about ourselves and our lives (and we have the mortgages, the car loans and the credit card bills to prove it).

But if we could wear our Christian faith, like a Letterman, it would counter our cultural ideals with humility and simplicity. We would adorn ourselves in how often we've failed and how our God's faithfulness is written through out those failures. We would medal in being more child-like; learning, asking and enjoying the world God has created. We would speak not of what we have done, but rather of what God's grace has accomplished in our lives. The Christian Letterman would not put on the facade of perfection as so many other jackets do in our culture, but would whole-heatedly admit to the fragility of our broken human condition and the greatness that lies in the story of Jesus.

But maybe the real question does not revolve around if we could wear our faith, but rather if we could more accurately follow our faith?