Gospel Lessons from a Summer at the Sandlot

My son performed the run-down between third base and home plate precisely as he had been taught: run toward the trapped base runner and make only one throw or outrace the base runner and tag him yourself. He took the latter option, catching the opposing player and slapping a firm tag on his shoulder. The runner, off-balance from trying to escape the "hot box," fell uninjured to the ground.

What happened next might fall under the category of "Christianity tested:" the base runner, angered by being tagged out, began to upbraid my son and strutted toward him, his chest puffed out, teeth fully gritted. For the first time, all the biblical lessons we have sought to teach our son during family worship and catechism time were being tried in a very public Romans 12 sort of way. How would he react?

Without a word, my son (to his father's absolute delight!) simply turned and walked back to his position. The other child continued to yammer words at my son, but my son, as he had been taught ("Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all...Never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God." Rom 12:17, 19) waited—unprompted by me, his coach—at his position until the opposing coach removed his disobedient young charge.

After the game, we discussed the incident and sought to apply the "Gospel value" of it in terms of Rom 12. All told, in his first season of baseball in which he is not hitting off a tee, my son has caught several subtle glimpses of the Gospel, learning that:

• "Give" and not "receive" is central to genuine Christianity. This season our players learned how to bunt. My son quickly questioned the rationale of this strategy because in executing it, a player intentionally makes an out, sacrificing himself to help his team by moving a runner into scoring position or bringing a runner home from third base. I once saw a baseball-themed Christian T-shirt emblazoned with the words: "Christ: His sacrifice for our errors." I'm not big on evangelical novelties, but that slogan worked: bunting reminds us, in a small way, of that far more supreme sacrifice.

• The body of Christ is made up of many members who possess diverse and complementary gifts (1 Cor 12:14,20: "For the body does not consist of one member, but of many...As it is, there are man parts, yet one body." In baseball, a shortstop cannot throw out a runner at first base without a first baseman; a runner cannot get home from third base without a teammate driving him home; a pitcher cannot win a game without his teammates scoring runs. Baseball, as with other team sports, teaches us something of the value of each member of the church along with invaluable nature of the different yet complementary roles He has created men and women to play.

• The Christian life is more like baseball than a 50-yard sprint. There is no clock in baseball; the game unfolds slowly, methodically—sometimes dramatically—over several innings and, at the big league level, teams must survive a grueling schedule that encompasses 162 games over six months time. It requires perseverance, patience and discipline; it is fraught with temporary failures (hall-of-fame hitters fail seven times in 10). Bunyan was spot-on with Pilgrim's Progress and baseball, by its very nature, illustrates this truth well.

There certainly are additional "Gospel lessons" and principles for biblical manhood for my sons (assuming my six-month-old catches baseball fever from his dad and older brother) to glean from baseball. Perhaps more than anything, we our learning together that our sovereign Lord wastes nothing in growing and encouraging His people—not even baseball.