So who did you cheer for last Sunday? Eagles? Patriots? Commercials? Didn't care, but still tuned in? Didn't even tune in?

I rooted for the Patriots. It was out of character for me. As long as a game doesn't involve "my team," I'm a notorious underdog booster. But not last week. At one point, Erin asked me why I was cheering for the red, white and blue team instead of the green team (Sue grew up outside of Philly, so by long habit she was cheering for the green team). Erin got me thinking. Why was I cheering for New England? I was rooting for the Patriots because I like their coach, Bill Belichick who is surely what Collins would call a "Level 5 Leader." He loves to devise an excellent game plan, then authorize and empower others and get out of the way. You'd almost think he'd prefer to pull the hood of his sweatshirt over his face and remain incognito. I like the Patriots quarterback, who is clearly more committed to winning, by including the entire team, than to setting records or amassing yardage. And I like the way a bunch of 3rd rounders and castoffs keep beating teams with more stars and better talent. So this time, and maybe for years to come, I'll be cheering for the Patriots. In a sense, they are the conquerors. In another sense, they are the feel good team - the perennial underdog made good.

As a boy, we didn't have a team in the northwest. So I was a Packer fan. Imagine. And a Dolphin fan. No kidding? Then a Steeler fan. How strange. If you're a football fan, you see a pattern. Yes, I also had a certain allegiance to the 49ers and Rams, and Roman Gabriel was my hero (especially when he did a guest appearance as one of the natives on Gilligan's Island). But all in all, I liked the winners. No, never the Dodgers or Yankees; never the Cowboys or Lakers. But I loved the dynasties that would rise up from unlikely places.

Over the years, something is shifting. I catch myself rooting for the underdog. Last week excepted, when I flip on ESPN and see a college basketball game, and even if I can only watch for a little while, and even if I never hear the outcome, I immediately assess who the underdog is and choose my side. Some would call that a formula for disappointment. Perhaps.

I attribute this instinct to a longstanding association with Jesus. It appears as if He's rubbing off, all too gradually and often against my stubborn nature, Jesus is shaping my character.

And he wants to shape yours. Unlike me, some of you are predisposed by first nature to root for the underdogs. Whatever the mix of temperament or training or history or another kind of stubbornness, some of you were rooting for underdogs even before you knew Jesus. Hurray! The transition into active Christian faith isn't such a tug-of-war for you.

For most of us, we're used to lining up with winners because they don't disappoint as often; and because lining up with winners is like a ticket to the winner's circle, baby! Lining up with losers? Why, that's a ticket to disappointment alley! For Jesus, it was a ticket to a brutal public death. Most scholars agree that, among other things, his cleansing of the temple was his most wanton act of political rebellion, and the reason they ultimately plotted to kill him, and the cleansing of the temple was all about the underdog.

Look at his life. He started his public ministry by quoting the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah was ever an underdog booster in the midst of the wealthy and powerful.

Yes, Jesus was declaring His identify as Messiah, but also His agenda as an underdog booster. The poor, the prisoner, the blind, the oppressed, - that's who Jesus is rooting for.

Sure, some people love to say that Jesus is talking about the spiritually poor, spiritually imprisoned, spiritually blind and spiritually oppressed, because that relieves us from any responsibility for advocating the underdog. Hogwash. Yes, Jesus came to spiritually rescue spiritual underdogs (every sinner, which is everyone) to a spiritual kingdom, and Jesus came to bring kingdom values and kingdom realities to bear on earth - "Thy kingdom come, they will be done on earth as it is in heaven." The greatest tragedy in the modern church is the disintegration of the church into evangelical and social gospel camps. Unless the church understands Jesus' integrated view of spiritual and social transformation, we've cut the power of the gospel in half.

Jesus never stopped rooting for the underdog, and he never stopped poking and prodding those who didn't root for the underdog - the rich, the powerful, the rulekeepers, the line-drawers, the elitists.

Of course Jesus cared about the spiritually lost, and he came to seek and to save the lost. He came to pave a road to everlasting life and to extend God's kingdom authority to the lives on earth the way that authority reigns in the hearts of heaven. But Jesus also cared about basic human needs and crises.

The plight of the poor, for example, is etched on Jesus' heart. In Luke 12:3, Jesus gives a frightening warning for rich people who keep building bigger barns but aren't paying any attention to building an account with God. Luke 16 paints us as stewards, handling someone else's money, too often investing in things that have no value to God. Luke 18:18 is the startling story of the rich young ruler, whose attachment to wealth made it impossible for him to follow Jesus. And in 21:1, Jesus honors the poor widow who gave all she had out of her poverty; in contrast to the rich who skimmed from their riches and thought they were being benevolent. (Some use Jesus' own words as an out. "The poor you will always have with you…" Out of context and a silly argument …).

Jesus attracted people from all social strata, but primarily the poor; everyday people who could relate to his everyday view of religion.

Who else was tattooed to Jesus' heart? Sinners. People who weren't welcome at the tables of the rich and powerful and overtly spiritual frequented the dinner table of Jesus, and often it was the table of the sinner that had a seat for the savior. Jesus always flies quickly to the poor in spirit; to the one who knows his/her spiritual poverty and readily confesses the need for help. If Jesus walked the earth today, he'd be spending as much or more time in biker bars than in churches, and since the nicest gathering spots for uppity culture are starting to sound as crude as any biker bar more every day, he might even have time to go to Starbucks and our favorite exercise venues. Wherever Jesus would be today, part of what got him into trouble yesterday was that he hung out with ruffians and outcasts. Why? They were raw and receptive, instead of guarded and proud. And this is what we church people forget - those of us who think that Jesus' priority is keeping us church folk happy. Luke 15:7 "…there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not repent." And I'm not the only one who hears the tongue in his check when he describes the 99 as righteous. Jesus never calls righteous those who have an inflated view of their spiritual standing.

How about the sick and lame? Story after story shows his compassion. Even though preaching and teaching were his major objectives (along with dying and rising) Jesus is constantly moved, stopped, slowed, engaged in the healing and care of the sick and lame.

The children are another category of underdog. In our culture, children are often treated like gods, running households with parents in tow, answering every whim. As harmful as it is to make children too powerful, it's also harmful when they have none at all. Jesus' strongest warnings are reserved for those who harm children or cause them to stumble.

Anyone else? As we go back to Luke 4, we see the imprisoned. Jesus had a heart for the imprisoned. Not anger or scorn, but compassion. Nowhere does Jesus (or any other scripture) suggest that prisons shouldn't exist in this broken world. But how we think and act toward prisoners defines the state of our hearts.

What about the blind? I fear that we, as a church, and others like us, are woefully ill-prepared to serve people with special needs and deficits. Jesus was not.

Then there's the oppressed. God forbid - but seems like godless people care more about oppressed people, oppressive systems and oppressive injustices, than the people who know God.

What about us? The obvious question: do I have Christ's heart in these matters. It's probably not a yes or no question. Sometimes we might. Other times, we're too caught up in our stuff to care. Some issues arouse compassion, in each of us, while others leave me cold but rouse interest in you or the person next to you.

For all of us - do our hearts break over the things that break the heart of Christ? If they do, then he wants us to act on our compassion. It's born from above and fostered by association with Jesus. While none of us seem to have the capacity that Jesus did, each of us separately can represent one or two of these passions; then all of us together can be the body of Christ living out the heart of Christ on earth. What is that one kind of underdog that tweaks your heart and plunks your conscience and awakens some swelling impulse that can only be called compassion (to suffer with)? How then can we stimulate one another to love and good works, fanning those flames, teasing out our better instincts until every one of us has a frontier in which we make the world a better place?

I'm not into guilt. But "ouch," a few are saying. "I'm not feeling anything. In fact, I'm a little angry that my cold heart is being exposed by this whole conversation." Good. You feel something. Now is the time to pray, to repent, to open our hearts to God and let Him break our hearts for something; for someone; for a cause bigger than the measly stuff we're gathering in our barns and bank accounts. Pray, plead, fast, read, sing, lament (my eyes are dry…)

And if our hearts are broken, aroused, engaged, what now? Act. Start something. Join something. Pay for something. Visit someone. Ask questions. Find helpers. Take a side, the side of the underdog, in some realm that's close to the heart of Christ. Don't let anyone or anything (pride, possessions, hobbies, habits) stand in the way. This is likely your calling in life - not merely an interest or a hobby or a vocation - a calling. Paul's vocation was tentmaker. His calling was the lost. Jesus vacation was carpenter, but His calling was to seek and to save; to heal and forgive; to redeem and reclaim that which belongs to His Father.