playing by the rules

 Growing up on the on the old side of Algonquin Drive meant different rules for playing sports.  Although we had Brookside Park a half mile away, it was the age of street football, kickball, and wiffle ball, and riding to the park only cut into play time.  With different parts of the street best suited for each sport.  Football was played by my house, using trees, fences, and driveways for first down markers, as in “first down is at the end of the fence.”  Add in potholes, no curbs, overhead wires and age old trees with big branches to interfere, it truly took some skill to play the game there.  But kick ball took us up the street, in the new development with smooth roads for pitching, no trees to hang up long kicks, and manhole and storm drains for bases.  A long run to first base, made for a shorter run to second and the third, and along way home again.  But at the end of the street a circle was our stadium, the circle,  and any kicks onto the grass were home runs, a difficult feat, made more difficult by depending on which ball you used.  And keeping the ball between the telephone pole and Richie’s back yard.  But that was the rules....further discussed over a Good Humor ice cream bar.

Wiffle ball caught on for awhile, then got very competitive.  We came up with our own version that could be played with only two of us, with each hit landing in a spot designated a single, double, triple, or home run.  Catching a grounder or fly ball was an official out, as we called our rules, with Scottie’s back yard the flattest and most wide open.  No fences in our neighborhoods, wide open space to cut through certain yards making for good playing fields.  Which also made for great tackle football fields, when Nutty Kenny’s yard was added in.  All with their own set of rules, and when in doubt, you could always call “ do over.”  It was good time playing at its best, coming home late after being called for dinner six times, and when you finally couldn’t see and the street lights came on, calling it quits and arguing over who really won because they missed that last turn up.  Rules for our neighborhood, and only a few blocks away, another completely different set of rules, all based on whose house, whose street, whose ball, and where the trees and cars happened to be.  With all games played without instant replay......

Another part of growing up was religious training, aka Sunday school.  Where Catholics worshipped differently than us Baptists, who were different than the Presbyterians, and quite honestly even with a large Jewish population, none of us understood them.  Just at age 13 the boys had a party.  But it seems religion was based on where you went to church more than if you did, and like our different rules for each sport venue, it only seemed natural for churches to be the same.  We knew the stories of Jesus, at least the Christmas and Easter ones, but for some reason the churches were more defined by the building and their different interpretations of the Bible.  It was tough enough being a kid let alone trying to keep up with all the denominational differences.  When my friend Nick’s mother died, I had never been to a Catholic service, so my friend Nippy told me to just do like he did, suddenly I was religious, with a fake act covering up the sadness I felt for Nick.  It was only when I got saved and met Jesus face to face was I able to escape the ruinous practices of religion, and understand true mercy and grace.  But trying to explain my new found freedom only made me an outcast among the churched folk....knowing Jesus made me an outcast among them.  How could that be....weren’t we all serving the same God?  Too bad he was painted as so many different men in so many different denominations.  It as easier to keep up with the rules for kickball!

But it took seeing myself in the greatness of God, to see his truth versus the confusion of religion to know Jesus.  It took knowing I was a sinner, and repenting, not just saying some rote prayers depending upon the date.  It took the truth upsetting tradition and opinion to set me free.  I was to learn Jesus tells us what comes out of us is m ore important than what goes in, and that God was not my enemy, nor were the churches, only their confusing doctrines that strayed from the truth.  How could there be so many different doctrines but only one God?  But in Jesus the truth was to set me free, and now I had truthful answers, not denominational ones.  I didn’t have to ask the rules, now it was about love.  I had been set free from religion, and I liked it.  Alot.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, who have nothing who recognize they have nothing within themselves that can save them, for theirs is the kingdom of God.  Rules cannot get us saved, nor can denominational differences.  Only by the spirit pointing us to Jesus do we recognize our sin and want to turn from it.  The rules were all the same for salvation and Jesus was the way.  No do overs when we got caught sinning, just forgiveness.  No dodging cars or making up the rules as we go, now we had the firm foundation in Christ we needed, where even the kid stuck in right field, or who couldn’t kick or catch had a chance for heaven.  Jesus changed all the rules, before it was up to us, and all about us, now it was up to Jesus, and all about him.  And what a relief that is!  The abundant life Jesus promises being more than the things we desire, all with a peace that cannot be described, just you and Jesus.  The ultimate team mate. 

As kids we spent more time picking up teams for sports than anything else.  Who was on your team could insure victory or defeat.  And you never wanted to be the last one chosen.  Jesus looks beyond your talent, looks, money, and neighborhood and chooses you as you are.  The last chosen kid for kickball will be first ahead of the most talented, in Christ.  So maybe where we worship, how we worship, and the dogma of the church is important.  Use the criteria of Jesus first.  Then let him lead you.  Not into temptation, but able to deliver us from evil.  Some of the hardest played games were played on the street, but compare in now way to the battle for your soul.  Why not choose Jesus and early the game early on.  Live by grace, not by the rules.  The rules only made the game harder to play, and robbed us of fun.  Don’t let religion do the same.  We play for fun and we play to win.  Funny how only the loser wanted to take his ball and go home....but never the winners.  We wanted to keep on playing.  And so it is with Jesus....let the games begin and continue, the end of the fence may mean a first down, knowing Jesus will never let you down is far better.  No losers in Christ.  And when he went home he didn’t take the ball, he took us with him.  Now that’s a victory we all can understand!

love with compassion,

Mike

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