Now that we’ve learned what is really important here (pizza and football), let’s get down to something much more serious. But let’s be perfectly fair. These things require serious consideration. After all, we cannot afford to teach our children and peers anything less than the absolute, infallible truth.
Baseball is truth and truth is baseball. Specifically, at Wrigley Field.
Our examination must cover the three general ethical levels: meta, theoretical, and practical. Any work that does not encompass the full scope of morality.
At the meta level baseball is closer to God’s heart. He lives at Wrigley in the summer and winters in Mesa. The White Witch of Winter rules football. Though she tries to get out of her prison in the Spring and Fall, her attempts always fail.
Theoretically, baseball is far more complex than football. Football is like a chess game. It is limited in time. It relies on the sacrifice of pawns at the line. It has a near-papist hierarchy where the quarterback becomes the adored leader. It also has its apocalyptic propensities when sudden death takes over. (Though that term has fallen out of favor, the principle remains. Football theology may change its philosophy over time but it remains heretical.) Baseball, on the other hand, practices the ontological equality of each player. All may “sin” by committing errors, but all may be justified (in the James sense) by producing hits and runs.
Practically, baseball belongs to the Anabaptist heritage. While there is the occasional outburst from the Boys of Summer, football is defined by violence.
Ok, I have a difficult time using what is holy theological language to describe petty sporting activities. But now that football is almost over, it seems at least allowable to put it in its place. I grew tired, long ago, of football metaphors in sermons. Fortunately, our pastor has reduced them significantly in the past year.