One of the early lessons learned at Shackamaxon Elementary School was on
the playground at lunch time. Kickball was the game, and being picked meant it
took being able to kick the ball over the right field fence. Which was no mean
feat, but the best of us could, and even though it was a home run, we would put
the least talented kid over the fence to catch it and throw it back. Through
our daily recess battles better kickers would evolve, and the lesser ones just
hope to be picked. There were always a surplus of players, as we cut the teams
down so we could bat around, really kick around the order quicker. No one ever
grounded out, so we only needed outfielders placed deep to catch fly balls. It
was all about the home run, singles were for sissies. The scores were high,
never more than two innings as they lasted long, and even the last one in the
order would do OK. We hoped.
The first four positions were the prime ones, after that no one really
seemed to care who was up next, they would be as bad an automatic out. These
were the ones who would foul out, a fate worse than death, or kick a squibb
grounder for a single. Sometimes they had names describing their lack of
ability, the rest of us were out for blood. Or really the right field fence.
But occasionally it was the last guys in the order that would surprise you,
breaking up a hotly contested 27-25 game by kicking a home run, not by distance,
but by kicking it where no one was. Running the bases rather than trotting as
we liked to do to show off. Our moment of glory. Making them a hero for the
day, and giving them a chance to move up to the not so coveted #5 spot, if only
for the next day. But mostly it was brutal for these lesser talented kickers,
and later in life gym class became a torture chamber, especially when someone
had to pick them. No one wanted to bat ninth, and eventually an automatic out
rule was invoked rather than endure the suspense of how they would hurt your
chances of winning. Take the red headed kid who can’t throw, or when his
position comes up, you get an automatic out. We lived through many automatic
outs in my day.
Kickball has extended itself to other aspects of life. Working at Coke, no
one wanted to have the desk next to the GM’s office, so one guy came in early
before work and grabbed the farthest away desk in the new offices. Leaving the
poor loser to be on call all the time the GM had a crazy idea. In high school
we had certain spaces where we could stage to drag after school, again a
competitive edge being taken seriously. Getting the best seat next to the
pretty new girl who transferred in was again a battle for position, and it goes
on and on. Even today second place is recognized as first loser, the last three
batters referred to as the bottom of the order, even lesser teams are referred
as second division. We all want to be #1, not step in #2, and be recognized as
better than others. And it all started in kickball.
But scripture tells us a different story. A warning and lesson to those of
us who are used to batting higher in the order. Who got picked early when
choosing teams, and who got a nice rain coat when they were passing them out.
He tells us the last shall be first, and whenever we do things others, it is as
if we are doing them to him. He tells them “whoever does these things to the
least of them...does it to me.” We may be a few years away from kickball, but
would you have picked Jesus for your team? Do you now, or skip over him when
needing things, shopping your problem and seeking those who agree with you,
rather than going for his love and forgiveness? Is he even on your team at all,
do you have a name for him, and those who follow him? One that hurts and leaves
a mark, or do you welcome him into your life? Is he welcome on your team, even
when not at recess? But those of us who do let him be on our team have learned
to turn to him at all times. He is happy batting ninth, and brings value to the
lesser position. Or he is just as happy to be batting first, what better way to
start the day or a game by putting Jesus first? Yet in too many lives he isn’t
even invited to play, and we all suffer because of it. We are supposed to be a
team, and win together or lose together, and in church it happens too often.
Don’t confuse Jesus and the church, and when making your batting order, he
is a great leadoff hitter. No easy out, he is the way, rather than a way. If
only the church would recognize him as Lord. They strike out in other ways that
hurt. Imagine the impact in your church if he led off instead of being buried
somewhere down in the order. Yet he is happy to bat ninth, just to be included
in your life. And you wonder why you never win, and seem to come close but
lose. Kickball is one thing, there is tomorrow’s recess to start over, life is
for real, and right now.
So if you are a ninth place batter, Jesus knows how you feel. He was the
stone rejected by the builders, and on Good Friday they yelled “crucify him!”
But he proved them all wrong when he rose again, can we learn a lesson here? No
one wants to bat ninth, just making the team can seem hard enough. Put Jesus
first, and even if you bat ninth, get the window near the GM, or don’t get the
best parking space, pray for those who value them so highly. They are missing
the point. Winning isn’t the only thing, only Jesus is everything.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com