Lessons from a ballpark

Text for the week: Jeremiah 29:10-14

I’m a recovering baseball fan.  The strike of ’91 hurt, but the strike of ’94 killed me.  I know, ’94?  The team with the best record in baseball before the strike of ’94 was the Montreal Expos. Again, I can hear a resounding, “Montreal Expos?”

But, it’s not the teams I want to talk about today. It’s the stadiums they played in: Olympic Stadium in Montreal. Municipal Stadium in Cleveland. Old Candlestick in San Francisco. The Big “A” in Anaheim. Three River Stadium in Pittsburgh. Riverfront Stadium in Cincinnati. The Astrodome in Houston. And even my beloved Tiger Stadium in Detroit. 

None of these stadiums are standing anymore, but do you know what else they had in common?  They were large, cavernous stadiums built to get as many people in them as possible.   Not much personality.  As a matter of fact, you could almost say that if you’ve been to one, you’ve been to them all.  Big, oval, concrete structures that, once inside, you couldn’t see beyond their walls to the outside world.  You didn’t go to the game for the ballpark, you went in spite of it. 

It’s why people value the older stadiums like Fenway and Wrigley, with their personality, charm and individuality — remembered for things like ivy and “a green monster.”  People still go to watch those teams, just to visit the ballparks.  It doesn’t really matter how well the Cubs are doing; they still draw over 2.5 million because of the ballpark. 

So, if you visit the stadiums that have replaced the ones listed above, you will see that they are all built with a different purpose in mind.  They are all individually shaped not just for the team, but even around the city they inhabit. 

Did you see the arch cut in the grass of Busch Stadium during the World Series, showcasing not just the Cardinals, but the entire downtown skyline of St. Louis?  Or have you been to The Great America Ballpark in Cincinnati, where you are on a river walk once you walk out of the seats in right field?  Or how about the new Miller Ballpark in Milwaukee, where every time a homerun is hit, Bernie slides into a huge stein, and every fifth inning you have the mascot race, made up of a brat, sausage, hotdog, and polish?  See what I mean?

Each is creative and individual, having its own personality, experience, charm and even story.  Just like us.  I don’t think I’m being romantic, either — because we matter!   We are wired by our Creator to long for meaning and purpose and to see ourselves as He created us to be.  And like we were reminded this week, not one of us is wired the same, and that’s okay.  (I’m glad I wasn’t called to math, either!)

Just like the new generation of major league ballparks springing up across the country, maybe their rebuilding is expressing the greater longing within each of us to find our own meaning and purpose for this life.   Maybe we can learn a lesson from a baseball park, because maybe they are betraying our hearts.   

What are you hearing?