Chiefs All-Star Tight End Travis Kelce is amazing in so many ways, he even teaches us how we can do—or be—two things at once.  As his imagination takes him to grilling while mowing, or working out while being interviewed, or ordering two diverse dinners at the same meal, his pedagogy reminds me of what religious scholars and brilliant moralists have sought for ages.

While we hold all content of the Bible to be true, we also realize that it is not all accurate.  The first two chapters of the first book of the Bible, Genesis, make it clear to readers who absorb two contradictory stories about how the world and humanity came to be.  The accounts are from two different traditions of Judeo-Christian history—the Yahwist and Elohist sources.  Though inconsistent, we believe both at the same time.  Similarly, we can believe and uphold an objective standard of morality or absolute truth and apply it to circumstances in which it becomes subjective or relative to the situation.  It can be both absolute and relative—two things at once.  For example, war is always bad, it is always a defeat for humanity, absolutely; yet it is justified (and has been numerous times in history) as conditions are met, especially when innocent people are persecuted by unjust aggression.  

I talk with college students and other young people, using the philosophy of David Brooks, about pursuing both resume virtues and eulogy virtues at the same time.  The former, which get captured in things like career, influence, security, popularity, comforts, achievements, money, awards, etc., can be sought and attained while also pursuing the latter, captured in values like goodness, kindness, honesty, integrity, humility, dignity, love…  They can pursue what the world wants them to want while also going after those things worth wanting; they can have two things at once.  I see this dichotomy often at funerals when there is extreme sadness and sorrow for our loss yet there is also immense joy and gratitude for the life of our Loved One who experiences no more earthly pain or suffering while leaving with us a personal legacy that both anchors us and releases us to greater heights.

People sometimes ask me and others how we can be both conservative and progressive at the same time.  For me, it’s simple.  Conserving the traditions of church or nation or faith or family is incredibly important to building upon the firm foundation our forebears laid.  Conserving historical precedent and honoring heroes and saints makes me want to also conserve resources, spending, and other things, while strengthening moral imperatives and important heritage; the attitude by which we live in the present pays tribute to those who sacrificed for us through the centuries.  But just as they sought progress in their times, so should we in ours.  To me, it is logical and sacred to favor and advocate for progress.  Like a strong tree, we need roots and branches so we can be deeply grounded and, at the same time, reach out and up to new growth.  Though political gamers emphasize divisions by saying that it’s impossible to be two things at once, we the people of the United States or we the people of God can rise above polarizing views and believe in impossible things.  It is much like Mary, Joseph, Elizabeth, and other figures of the Advent Season came to realize.

Kelce lives it, unintentionally illustrating how to be both sacred and secular at the same time.  Not only is he an eight-time pro-bowl, four-time first-team, two-time Super Bowl champ, but he also dates multi-talented, mega-star, person of the year, Taylor Swift.  He can do two things at once.  In Advent, we proclaim, celebrate, and commemorate Christ’s coming.  He came in the past in history, and He comes in the present in mystery.  We simultaneously embrace these two things.  But we go a step further: we believe that He will come again in the future in majesty.  Since He is God, three persons in one (even greater than Kelce), He can do three things at once.  And it is this coming—past, present, and future—in history, mystery, and majesty, that we honor in Advent.