Jesus and Baseball

At the last supper Jesus turns to Peter and says (to paraphrase) I know that you think that you won’t, but before the sun rises, you won’t just deny knowing me once, but you are going to deny knowing me three times.

Peter disagrees.

For many many years my husband had a share in season tickets at Shea Stadium. We were Met fans. And for as many years, we hated the Atlanta Braves. They were our nemesis. And more specifically, we hated Chipper Jones because he had made racist comments about New Yorkers when he was a young player. So, when we had the opportunity several weeks ago to see Chipper Jones play his last game in Turner field against the Mets, I was prepared to boo when the crowd cheered.

But Turner field, the Braves fans, and our stellar seats were electrifying. And while intellectually I understood that the tomahawk chop was politically incorrect. I did not just embrace it, I embraced it enthusiastically. So when the fans cheered, I did as well. And when Chipper came to the plate, I wished for a hit. I forgot who I was supposed to be rooting for.

I abandoned my team well before the sun went down.

And just as Jesus predicted, before morning, Peter abandoned Jesus three times. It made Peter feel pretty badly about himself.

And while I should feel ashamed about my switch of allegiance, I do not. The entire Turner field adventure was among the most fun things I have ever done. It was more enjoyable than any Mets game I have ever been to—including the World Series and playoff games.

And while Peter’s lesson was one of repentance, mine was of forgiveness. People make mistakes—even young baseball players--it’s why absolution was invented. Which is the angle I will use when I tell my nephew Andrew—a diehard Mets fan—why I have a light up tomahawk in my arsenal of sports memorabilia: Rooting for the home team is the Christian thing to do.