I went to a baseball game this week. For those who know me, you realize this was right up there with catching a falling star and discovering the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
My dad took me to an Atlanta Braves game when I was a kid. We hoped to see Hank Aaron hit a homer, but I don’t remember any such luck.
Since then, I’ve been pretty uninterested in the sport. Football I can watch. Basketball, a bit. But baseball? It’s right up on my list behind watching grass grow and golf…
…which are, by the way, actually the same thing.
But here in St Louis, the Cardinals have a Clergy Pass program for all of us “men o’ the cloth”. Just show up with the pass and ID and you get two free tickets for the game.
Well, not just any game. No Cubs games, those are hot tickets. No playoffs, or season openers. But other regular games, sure. This past week, things were slow at the office. So a buddy and I headed off to Busch Stadium to enjoy a free daytime game.
First thing I notice is there are a lot of people who can get a day off for a baseball game. It’s 12 noon and the stadium is filling up. Not packed, but still impressively attended.
Most people have red Cardinals shirts on. I, thinking that’s a bit too literal, wear my red “Save Ferris” shirt. I’m hoping to fit in a bit while avoiding coming off too enthusiastic.
Turns out, our seats are pretty good ones. Not down on the lowest level next to the field, but not up in the rafters either. We’re in a nice middle section off first base, seated in the shade. So we’re not too hot, and there are empty “buffer seats” next to us so we’re not crowded. Actually, it couldn’t be much more perfect.
And I watch. And players come up to bat. And they miss. Then one gets a hit and goes to first. But then another pops his up and is caught by the outfield. And now the other team is up to bat.
And, repeat.
Some guy occasionally plays the organ. Not anything cool, but just the corny cadence before we’re all supposed to yell “charge”.
They flash a live shot of the organ player. Not the coolest looking guy in the world. But then again, it’s hard to look cool playing an organ. You pretty much have to put on a white mask, a cape, and play the Phantom of the Opera riff to come off really cool on an organ.
Then their camera does that thing where they focus in on couples who are supposed to then kiss. I think the cameramen have a bet for who can find the ugliest couples. Then I start to get a little uncomfortable wondering if suddenly my buddy and I are going to be on the big jumbotron with a heart framing us.
So…can you tell how bored I am?
I’m looking around at literally thousands of people. People who have paid good money to be here, who have probably used a day off from work, paid for parking, and bought over-priced greasy food. And they are thrilled to be doing exactly what I am barely tolerating.
In fact, I would probably pay money NOT to be here right now. And that’s truly amazing to me.
I know, I’m the one who doesn’t get it. It’s just hard to understand how something the rest of humanity seems to love is boring me to tears. I mean, I know I’m weird but I am still a human like the rest of these folks.
Good thing my phone battery is full, or else I’d be asleep right now in the middle of the day.
At the same time, there are people who just can’t get excited about Jesus. I can’t understand that, because to me He’s the best thing in the world. When I get up in the morning, I want to talk to Him. Then I talk to Him through the day. Then I study His Word, and go to worship Him with friends on Sundays.
But I see others who come to my church. They try for a while. They’re there for a Sunday or two, then gone for a month. Then they show up a Sunday, then gone two months. Then…nothing. I never see them again. I wonder if I failed to represent Him in some way to them. I rack my brain for how I might have offended them. I lose sleep over it.
And then God reminds me it’s never really about me. As long as I don’t put something in their way like the Pharisees did, and I don’t, it’s not my fault. He reminds me that, just like me at the ballgame this week, some people just don’t “get it”.
Jesus even warned His disciples it would be this way…
“When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in their heart. This is the seed sown along the path. The seed falling on rocky ground refers to someone who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away. The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful. But the seed falling on good soil refers to someone who hears the word and understands it. This is the one who produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.” – Matthew 13:19-23
That passage means that, no matter how well I represent Him, some will eventually walk away from the One I’d never dream of leaving. Why? It’s simple…
Some people want what they want. They’re too arrogant to listen when you offer them something better.
Some can’t admit they’re wrong. Coming to Jesus demands a level of humility they can never muster.
Some are too lazy to learn. They’ll keep hitting their heads against the same brick wall, but avoid change because of the discipline required by it. The good word they’ve heard eventually loses its potency and is forgotten.
Some are too distracted by all the other things they prize. They love God, but love their politics more, or their boat or their job.
Finally, some just don’t think Jesus is worth the trouble. They know in their hearts He would demand they make changes in their lives. So they’re not going to come to church and be hypocrites. They just don’t want Him enough to give up the evil they’ve come to love.
So I sit on Sundays, enraptured by the presence of the Living God. And they sit in the same service bored, looking at their watches, and eventually lunging for the exits.
I suppose I should be happy to be one of those who “get it” when it comes to God. I should just ignore the “heathen” who’d rather spend their Sundays on a boat or binge-watching Netflix.
Except that, unlike the Cardinals, this is not a game. I love my friends, and would do anything to get them to hear and understand the message. But I can’t make them.
And when the score is finally counted, there’s no chance of going into extra innings.
We either get it now, or we lose.
