It’s not really
about the footballs, but the Superbowl has left me feeling deflated.
Despite the fact
that I hear my grandfather’s voice in the back of my head reminding me of the
fact that “life isn’t fair,” I’m angry that the New England Patriots got to
play in the Superbowl and ended up winning.
I feel like their
team has collectively stolen from me, from my children, and our culture at
large—the promises about fair play and doing your best. So I’m not-so-secretly hopeful that in the
light of investigations and interviews it will be revealed that the Patriots
willfully broke the rules by manipulating the air pressure in footballs in
order to gain a mechanical and psychological advantage over their opponents;
and that for maybe the very first time, the NFL will have no choice but to
stand up for the integrity of the game and our common life, and ask for the
Lombardi trophy to be returned and that the Patriots win in yesterday’s game be
vacated.
That would be so
SWEET! And I must admit my own sin in
wanting to gloat over that eventual outcome by wanting to take much pleasure in
what surely would be a painful turn of events—deserved or not. Besides, I like seeing Tom Brady suffer.
Yet, it’s
true. Life is not fair. It rains on the just and unjust alike. Bad people, and good people, do not always
gain their just desserts.
What concerns me
is that we will just shrug our shoulders as if this is simply the way life is
supposed to be. That lying, cheating,
and even stealing is all in how you play the game. After all, we show it in how we try and place
our children in the best preschools to gain them the best possibility of being
in the best schools with the top reputations that will lead to the best
colleges—taking every advantage to put them in the best position for “success”
in life. Even if we have to bend the rules
a bit here and there, the end justifies the means. Right?
Because surely, it’s all worth it if you get to play in the Superbowl
and drive home in a new Chevrolet truck—even if what you did was unfair. Right?
All too often,
people who misrepresent the facts or themselves are rewarded with success
unfairly and unjustly earned. This didn’t
start or end with the Patriots’ cheating scandals or their Superbowl win. But on this Monday, it feels like one more time
my mother’s promise that what matters most is your honesty, integrity, and
doing your best—appears more often than not to be a true roadblock to the
accolades and trappings of success. And
so it seems harder and harder to convince ourselves that doing the right thing
is really the right thing. It may be the
right thing, but we see often that the “whistleblowers” often pay a heavy price
for their integrity.
I wish the world
were not so!
Yet even in my
deflated state (that I’m blaming on the Patriots and their Superbowl win) I
still know and trust that in the long run, always and forever, honesty,
integrity, and doing your best is what matters.
I just wish there were some form of major smack-down for everyone who
takes advantage of others!
But there’s
not.
The Bible promises
us over and over again that it’s wrong to take advantage of others. God declares fields cannot be gleaned so well
that there isn’t something left for the less fortunate to also have their fill. The jubilee rituals attempt to level the
haves and have-nots so that no one gains an unfair advantage for long. Jesus reminds us over and over that the loves
of money, fame, and fortune are often gained at the expense of others; that we
can still “kill others” by acting unjustly rather than having to take their
life in the flesh. And we are constantly
invited to live, giving witness to the justice and righteousness of the Kingdom
of God where God sides frequently with the least and the lost.
So today, I’m
remembering my uncle who had the opportunity to play football at the University
of Kentucky. The team had a young coach
at the time by the last name of Bryant—who would go on to become a legend at
another school. Known as “Bear” the
coach called my uncle out in practice one day.
“Stipp,” he yelled, “I want to see you play for blood!” My uncle reportedly replied, “No sir. I don’t play for blood. I play because I love football. I love football, and I play hard every down;
but I’ll not play for blood.” And the
coach said, “Not on this team. On this
team, you play for blood.”
So my uncle never
played another down.
Life’s hard lesson
is that we can’t make anyone else play by the rules. It’s a choice we make for ourselves. And it comes, unjustly it seems, without any
of the accolades or glorious rewards. We
have to value it for its own ends. That’s
the lesson we have to teach ourselves and our children everyday. And not because the Patriots may have used
under-inflated footballs.
© Rev. David Stipp-Bethune; Teaching Elder and
Pastor, The Presbyterian Church of Llanerch, Havertown, Pennsylvania
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