My friend Abner’s dad owned a football team, the Plainfield Red Oaks. A
farm team for the Colts before they abandoned Baltimore, they consisted of guys
too old to quit, like Big Carl who at 53 still was a menace to defensive
linemen. Some were just not good enough for the NFL, some had been and gone,
and some just liked the fact of being part of a team. A unique group of men,
who loved football, and played the game as it was 50 years ago. Real grass,
games played in old stadiums with a local crowd cheering them on. Local sports
reporters who knew everyone by name and by their day jobs, and families,
friends, and neighbors who cheered them on. I got to see this all from the
bench during the games, as I was Abner’s friend, and was welcomed because his
dad was the owner. We sat in on practice sessions, half time pep talks, and
plays calling during the game. At age 15 I knew more than most arm chair
quarterbacks would ever know. But I also saw the physical side of football, and
these guys were playing a tough sport on a tough playing field.
Real grass, not some manicured carpet called Astroturf. The referees
controlled the game, unlike now when the game controls them. Bad call, get over
it, they made it and that was final. Which led to some battles off the field
that went on for years. But the Red Oaks were good, as in very good, and hadn’t
lost a game in years, traveling by bus to games to the wilds of Canarsie,
Boonton, and Brooklyn and battling cold and injuries. I learned how lineman
would grab a handful of dirt and when the ball snapped throw it into the eyes of
the opposing lineman. How a runner could have a ton of bodies on top of him,
each one inflicting more pain as they got off the pile. I saw eyes gouged,
cleat marks where they had stepped on or kicked the guy who was down, that was
how it was played, not sanitized with full on hospitals, Gatorade, and TV time
outs. I saw many injuries, but one will always stand out in my mind. A large
lineman, Tim got a huge gash over his eye. When the blood finally impeded his
sight from running into his eye, they took him out, he held a towel against it,
and at half time had it attended to. Which consisted of 6-8 guys holding him
down on the bench in the locker room, while the guy who was the trainer sewed
him up, using no pain killers other than ice and a shot of liquor. He stitched
him up with a sewing needle and thread, the same kind my mother sewed with, he
never whimpered, and played the entire second half. Cut, bruised, and hurting,
he kept playing. In contrast to another guy Rudy who came limping off the field
when he got his hand stepped on. Yes, limping.....
But I had access to all this because I knew Abner and his father. Without
the relationship I would have been relegated to the stands and fan status. But
as it was, I saw the game from the inside, and learned to criticize more
carefully based on that knowledge. Through Jesus Christ we have access to God,
a direct line that is never busy. We don’t have to sit in the stands and watch,
we can participate in life with him. Yet religion, cults, traditions, and
denominations keep us bay and away from all we can have from God. Follow the
pastor, follow the TV show, follow the celebrity who just got saved and suddenly
knows it all. Fill your head with teachings, attend the right church, get into
the right small group, do all the things that society demands or expects of you
as a Christian and you will be blessed. But also very disappointed, as pleasing
man will always fall short of pleasing God. Watching a message on TV maybe
educational, but when you have questions, need to pray, have a comment, or don’t
get it, you going to ask the TV? Yet many satellite churches are popping up
this way, with the TV the pulpit, the pastor the star, and an audience with
questions. Impersonal, you may get more and better info from Facebook. But yet
they continue, neglecting the access God has provided them.
Jesus made it personal, just like the guys playing on the Red Oaks. We
knew their names, their families, where they worked, and what they drove. We
saw the pain, the cuts and bruises, and how the game was played. Not some
sanitized version of Christianity portrayed as what it can do for you. Am I far
off, stop and think, look around, how much is about Jesus and making it
personal? In times of need, have you found access to Jesus via his spirit, or
from a TV screen? Do we muss and suffer all week until we can go up front after
a service and get prayer when it is available right now one on one? Does all
your Bible reading consist of studying, and only what the teacher has taught?
When is the last time you just picked up your Bible and read it for pleasure?
And found what you needed, unaware of what you were looking for. The spirit is
ready to provide everything we need and now, in person. He ahs given us
everything we need for life and godliness. He has given us his son, his most
precious treasure, he played the game and died for us. What version of the
gospel have you been taught?
Some sit in the stands or pews and only comment. It’s time to get in the
game and play it to win. To see Jesus for real, to share him with others, and
to live a life in him that he promises. Look at his hands, see his smiling
face, and bask in the warmth of his love. TV can only be one dimensional, God’s
love is a dimension all to itself, far beyond any physical realm. Isn’t it time
you got real? Not reality TV, but the reality of Christ in your life?
The game will leave you many cuts and bruises, so will life. It comes from
being in the game of life, and we play to win. Some wish to spectate and
comment, some get in the game and see the real action. A love of the game
bonded these men together. What bonds you to Jesus? If you have to ask, you
may have never played the game.....
love with compassion,
Mike
mathew25biker.blogspot.com