A Tale of Two Parties

It’s been a fabulous week. Of parties. Two parties to be exact. Well, not exactly parties, but you’ll understand in a minute. Both involved a large number of people. Both involved lots of cheering. Both ended with singing to the one who made it possible. There was one big difference, however, which I’ll get to later.

The first party took place on Wednesday evening. It was a beautiful night with the perfect temperature and the seats to match. We were there to watch the Chicago Cubs play against the Milwaukee Brewers. We sat between home plate and first base. We cheered for every Cubbie who came up to bat and high-fived complete strangers when a runner slid into home plate. And we stood up cheering for every high-and-should-have-been-a home-run-except-the-wind-was-blowing-in hit ball. The entire stadium stood throughout the whole last inning, biting our nails to the very last pitch, the pitch that finally won the game. 

When that ref signaled the 3rd and final strike, the crowd went crazy. “W” flags waved throughout the stadium, a light show lit up the place and everyone - I mean everyone - sang at the top of their lungs a song to the team that made it possible - “Go Cubs Go." It was a night at Wrigley Field that I will not soon forget. 

The second party took place on Sunday morning. As we gathered for church we had the thrill of listening to story after story of life change. Some of those interviewed were in tears, many had a sort of grateful amazed look on their face as they shared what God had done in their lives. And then when the service ended, just like the ball game where we sang praise to the one  - the Cubs - who had made it possible, we sang to the One who made this day possible - God, Himself. 

We then took the party outside where bleachers, music and a pool awaited us. Waited in anticipation to watch and celebrate the baptism of over 40 people. As each baptism took place, just like we went crazy when Michael Busch hit a 3 run double, we cheered, clapped and yelled with excitement as we watched each person publicly declare that they were made clean by the love and sacrifice of God’s Son, Jesus. It’s a day in God’s presence that I will not soon forget.

Both parties were electric! Both parties were memory makers. But both parties were not the same when it came to one important thing. Grace. 

As I sat through the Cubs game, there were times, as in all games, when the pitcher couldn’t get their throw zeroed in on the perfect pitch. Lots of balls called. Which led people behind me to criticize and judge. “Throw strikes.” “Get it together.” “Do your job!” I found it very hard not to turn and yell at these guys. What in the world? Do they think these pitchers are being lazy? Do you think they don’t care? Do you think, for one moment, that they’re not aware of what’s taking place and doing their darndest to get it right? The longer the “poor” pitching went on, the more aggravated these guys became. 

I sat there and thought, what must it be like to have your value based on your performance? To know that if you do less than perfect, you will be verbally bullied, sent to the bench, possibly traded? There’s no grace in baseball. Yes, I know they get paid an exorbitant amount of money, but money does not guarantee perfection.

Contrast that to baptism. God chose us for “his team,” knowing that we are and will continue to underperform. We will miss our mark on a daily basis. But God doesn’t expect perfection - although I think he’d be thrilled if we did accomplish even an hour of it. Instead, God celebrates that we recognize our sin and look to Him to save us. When the people on Sunday went into the water, to be made clean, I think there were light shows going on in heaven, people and angels and those who have gone before us giving God, Jesus and each other high fives as they sang at the top of their lungs, “This is Amazing Grace.” 

I’m so grateful that life is not a ball game. I’m so grateful to God for choosing me, with all my numerous, countless sins. I’m so grateful to be invited to a party that God has, specifically, invited me to.