There are relatively few times in our lives when we’re called to reflect as deeply on our very existence as this dreaded covid-19 virus has demanded of us all. If you’re a Christian, then you’re aware that we are now in the midst of Holy Week…and reflecting on Jesus’ pilgrimage from the countryside of Judea and Galilee to the Holy City, where He would make the ultimate sacrifice to change forever our relationship to God. If you’re Jewish, you are preparing to remember and commemorate the storied Exodus of the Hebrews from Pharaoh’s brutal enslavement, and their forty-year sojourn in the promised land. But if you’re a fan of baseball – especially if you’re a fan of Detroit Tigers baseball – then you may, like me, feel a certain heaviness in your heart today over the passing of one of baseball’s true greats: Al Kaline.
Virus-induced Solitude, Holy Week/Passover, Baseball – there you have it, baseball fans, whether Christian or Jewish – a trifecta of existential thinking!
In referencing this loss, I’m aware it would be easy to fall into the funk in which I found myself yesterday, upon learning of Kaline’s death. In an age of multi-million-dollar contracts, gleaming new cathedrals of baseball and ticket prices that preclude the attendance of most true fans living on a one-person salary, it’s easy to forget how vital this sport was to the culture of post-World-War-II babies. If you were born after 1980, let’s just agree that the sport you know today as Major League Baseball isn’t the same sport of Al Kaline’s time…nor of Joe DiMaggio, Willie Mays, Pete Rose, Sandy Kofax, Hank Aaron and many others. Those were players who played for the sheer love of the game with pure, unabashed joy and verve. Watching them play baseball was an exhibition in thoughtful strategy, awe-inspiring speed and agility, and true skills in all facets of the game…including self-sacrifice. They didn’t need to inject themselves with physique-altering steroids to win batting titles, Cy Young awards and homerun derbies. They didn’t have agents…they were agents – of a timeless sport in the aftermath of different existential crises…world wars. (You’ll find many of these attributes mentioned in the excellent account of Al Kaline’s life found in the link below).
https://www.clickondetroit.com/sports/2020/04/06/detroit-tigers-legend-al-kaline-dies-at-age-85-sources-say/
“But, Carl,” you may ask, “what the hell does this have to do with Holy Week, Passover and a killer-virus?” Simply this: we are STILL our neighbors’ keepers, despite the existential threat posed by covid-19. We all share in common the fruits of this earth, the air we breathe…and a new commandment: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Jesus bequeathed us this simple model. Simple…but not easy. Soon enough, those of us who survive the first wave of covid-19 death brought by this virus-from-hell will be faced with decisions: to help a neighbor in need, or turn away? To give assistance to another struggling with infirmity or illness…or focus on ourselves? And soon enough we, too, will have our obituaries written. What will they attest of us? Will we be remembered as not only believers, but practitioners of Jesus’ calling…? Will our stories be written – not for accolades – but for kindnesses and compassion toward one another in the midst of hysteria? Will we answer the call to service at personal risk?
Baseball was, and still is, a game whose rules are predicated on mysticism: for example, the eternal number 3, for strikes, outs, and bases prior to reaching “home.” Indeed, baseball is the only sport that is timeless…stretching into any number of additional innings, despite man’s artificial construct of time. On a grand scale, the mysticism behind the teachings in the Kabbalah offer an uncanny parallel with the rules of baseball (http://ascentofsafed.com/cgi-bin/ascent.cgi?Name=baseball%20kabbala.) If, as a student of the game, you’ve ever witnessed a bottom-of-the-ninth inning, bases-loaded homerun to win a game, then you have the momentary sense of something akin to nirvana…nearly “miraculous.” Indeed, miracles are what Jesus performed to re-orient a cynical, occupied and oppressed people, who escaped the clutches of Egypt, only to eventually lapse into occupation by the brutal oppressor, Rome. He didn’t just tell them…He showed them, with His own selfless act of ultimate love.
What must we do to rid ourselves of this latest occupation of pestilence? Practice “social distancing…?” Wear masks? Isolate from one another, until we forget ourselves? Don’t get me wrong, I practice this “distancing,” the same as you. Having recently survived another in a long line of surgeries, I am a more-than-susceptible host right now for a killer virus. But I do wonder how the aftermath of this plague will play out. What might it reveal about our character as a nation, as a community, as a people of the same God as King David and Saint Peter…?
Like Al Kaline, I prefer to regard my own life as aspirational over self-preservation. But that requires a higher, if humbler, path of service. As I rethink my own “journey around the bases” toward a home unknown, I must admit, I am not worthy…and fear I will be found wanting by the “Eternal Statistician.”
Last night, in stillness of 1:00 a.m. darkness, I reflected on how I first came to know about Al Kaline…1959, sitting on my father’s lap during summer Sundays, watching a Tigers’ game on an old Motorola TV…and him telling me about this young man: a phenomenal talent with a humble heart…who just wanted to be a baseball player. That was my earliest memory of Al – and of knowing that my dad and I shared something deep in common: a love for something timeless. If there is one baseball player that my dad would love to greet – above all others – upon his arrival into Heaven, it’s Al Kaline. My dad…dear God, how I miss him.
All of us as people of one true God, on this day, share something in common, as we prepare, in solitude, for a Holy Week of Passover leading to Calvary: hope. May we act upon it to liberate our own spirits and lift up one another again, as brothers and sisters of the same, true God.
Peace.