The Edomites

Earlier this week, Allen Iverson released his memoirs. The book is entitled “Misunderstood” and charts his rise from the projects of Newport News Virginia to the pinnacle of athletic success. If you have never heard of Allen Iverson or watched him play Basketball, shame on you. LOL.

During his heyday, Iverson was a phenom. Long before the advent of the recent technology, Iverson was called A.I. Another one of his nicknames was “The Answer.” An 11× NBA All-Star, 2× NBA All-Star Game MVP (2001, 2005), 3× All-NBA First Team selection, 4× NBA scoring champion, the NBA Most Valuable Player (2001), NBA Rookie of the Year (1997), Iverson also was a member of the NBA 75th Anniversary Team, and had his #3 jersey retired by the Philadelphia 76ers. What made Iverson so unique was his size. He was only six feet tall and probably weighed 165 pounds (when dripping wet, as one observer pointed out).

I remember the first time I watched him play. I was living and working in Washington, DC. On Saturdays, a group of my friends and I would crowd into a sweltering high school gym to watch some of the best summer league basketball we’d ever seen. The day Iverson played, he did things on a basketball court that I had never seen.

Given my appreciation for his success and my love for the game, I devoured his book. As I often mention, I am a student of success. It always leaves clues—so I wanted to see what lessons I could learn from his journey. Perhaps the most significant lesson that I gleaned from his memoir was less a lesson and more of a reminder. His memoir reminded me that none of us arrive at our destiny without the help of others. Despite how gifted and talented he was, Iverson still needed the love, support, encouragement and assistance of countless people, most of whom he acknowledges and thanks. But his acknowledgement of one person touched me deeply. Iverson says that his college Basketball coach John Thompson “saved his life.”

But his memoir also reminded me of equally instructive lesson. Just as John Thompson saved his life, there were countless others who were determined to destroy his life. And then there were still others who may not have wanted to destroy his life, but who simply did nothing to advance it. Including John Thompson, there were only a few who helped. But there were many who didn’t. And even more who couldn’t.

After reading Iverson’s life story, it reminded me of how large the disparity is between those who help you and those who don’t. The latter always outweigh the former. My mind ran back to the days when Resurrection first started, and we desperately need some chairs to accommodate our rapidly growing congregation. I reached out to a “preacher-friend” in the city who I knew had several hundred chairs in storage that he was not using. I called him. He confirmed that he had the chairs. We scheduled a time to meet and pick them up. On the day of the scheduled pickup, my “preacher-friend” never arrived. Nor he did call to cancel or reschedule. In fact, several weeks later, he called and we had an entire conversation. The “missed” appointment was never mentioned. Ten years later, it still has not been. At first, I was angry, Then, I was disappointed. But now, I have just realized that everybody isn’t going to help you. Some people can’t help you. But some people can help you, but won’t. I call this crowd the Edomites.

This names comes from a incident in the history of Israel that is worth remembering. As they were headed to the Promised Land, the children of Israel arrived in the city of Edom, which occupied a strategic geographical position in ancient times. According to Numbers 20:14-21, this is what hapenned:

Moses sent emissaries from Kadesh to the king of Edom with this message:

Will you give us permission to cut across your land? We won’t trespass through your fields or orchards and we won’t drink out of your wells; we’ll keep to the main road, the King’s Road, straying neither right nor left until we’ve crossed your border.” The king of Edom answered, “Not on your life. If you so much as set a foot on my land, I’ll kill you.” The People of Israel said, “Look, we’ll stay on the main road. If we or our animals drink any water, we’ll pay you for it. We’re harmless—just a company of footsore travelers.” He answered again: “No. You may not come through.” And Edom came out and blocked the way with a crowd of people brandishing weapons. Edom refused to let them cross through his land. So Israel had to detour around him.

Israel was not threat. But the Edomites would not help. Israel was not interested in taking anything. But the Edomites would not help. Israel only wanted to shorten their journey, But the Edomites would not help. All they had to do was stamp Israel’s passport. But they would not do it. Not only would they not let them travel through the country, but they actively opposed Israel. Edom “came out and blocked the way.”

The Edomites may have been an ancient community from biblical times. But they are far from extinct. Their descendants are alive and well. They work with us, worship with us, and live with us. You would do well to face an unfortunate fact: everyone is not going to help you. But you would do well to also face another fortunate fact: everyone doesn’t have to help you.

Israel got the Promised Land anyway.

Allen Iverson succeeded anyway.

And so will you.