Sober | Wayfarer

“Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.”
Matthew 10:34

Follow me for any length of time and you’ll discover that I enjoy the game of baseball. One of the many reasons I enjoy baseball is the way the game metaphorically reflects life in so many ways.

In the narration of his great documentary about the game, Ken Burns speaks about the game beginning each season with the hope of spring, and ending each year with the “harsh realities of autumn.” How often life is like that. The optimistic young soldier ships out with his head filled of dreams of glory and returns with his spirit tempered by the realities of battle. A couple begins their marriage in the fog of romance, but soon find themselves living day-by-day facing the sacrificial requirements of love. Just months ago we celebrated Jesus’ birth with greeting cards chalk full of words about hope for humanity, joy to the world, and peace on earth. In a few weeks we will remember Jesus’ kangaroo court trial, torture, and gruesome execution. Death must come before resurrection can even be a possibility. That’s a harsh reality.

In today’s chapter, Jesus is preparing his followers for what life is going to be like on their mission of taking His message to the world. It’s not a pep talk. It’s a sobering reality check. Jesus didn’t fill His messengers with visions of fame, fortune, and prosperity. He called them to austerity, humility, and sincerity. He did not send them out with hopeful promises that the Message they would carry would create inspirational social movements of unity, peace and brotherhood. He told them to be wary and shrewd, expecting opposition, persecution, and conflict. The sweet manger baby we all celebrated as the “Prince of Peace” has grown to deliver a more difficult message: “Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword.”

Along my journey I’ve come to accept that we as humans like to dwell on the things that are easy, optimistic, inspirational, and accessible. There’s nothing wrong with looking at the glass half-full and being grateful for it. We need hope and optimism to carry us in dark times. Nevertheless, I’ve learned that there is wisdom in being sober minded. We are quick to remember Jesus feeding a hungry crowd of people by miraculously multiplying a few loaves and fish. Few of us recall that just a day later Jesus drove that very crowd away when He asked them to “eat my flesh, and drink my blood.” The crowds wanted the former without the latter. We still do.

Baseball season starts in a week and a half. Right now fans like Wendy and me are experiencing the annual feelings of giddy excitement. Come the evening of April 2nd it will be hot dogs and cold beer at the Vander Well Pub. Every team’s record starts at 0-0, and everyone is hopeful. This year Wendy and I even get to feel the joy of our team starting the season as World Series Champions, and that’s a lot of fun. It does not wipe away, however, the knowledge that we’ve never felt it before.

Harsh realities of autumn 108. World Series Champions 1.

Play ball!

They pour into the streets wearing black, go up on the roofs, take to the town square, Everyone in tears, everyone in grief. Isaiah 15:3 (MSG)

I sat on the dock at the lake with both my parents and my teenage children. It was one of those quiet conversations that don't usually happen in the busy rat-race of everyday life, but in the peaceful tranquility of the lake, they just sort of emerge. I asked my parents about some of the things they'd seen and experienced in their lifetime. They talked about the nation-wide celebration when World War II was over when people poured out of their houses to have an impromptu party in the streets. They talked of the day President Kennedy was assassinated and the shock and horror the nation experienced.

I thought of my own journey. I remembered where I was when President Reagan was shot, when the Challenger exploded, then Columbia. I remembered the day when the twin towers fell.

The depth of human tragedy in Isaiah's prophetic messages are easily lost when we don't make connection to our own experience. For the nations he addresses, the threat of impending seiges waged by invading armies was very real. His message was, and is, sobering. While I don't believe there is much to be gained in preoccupation with tomorrow's potential doomsday, I believe there is wisdom in understanding that the blessing I enjoy today is not guaranteed tomorrow.

Today, I'm taking time to be grateful for all with which I am blessed, and to realize that it could all be tragically gone in the twinkling of an eye. I don't want to take God's blessing and provision for granted.

Creative Commons photo courtesy of Flickr and quiplash