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When Margaret, my twenty-five year old daughter, was in third grade, we were living in Los Angeles. After one of her soccer games, where she probably scored five goals, which was not unusual, “A big guy, tall guy, tears in his eyes came up to me…” that’s a Seth Meyers reference for you late night fans.
Actually, no tears, but a big, tall guy with a Kiwi accent, came up to me and introduced himself. “Is that your daughter?” He probably could tell by the way I was screaming on the sidelines. “Yeah,” I glowed. “She’s pretty good.”
He then said, “I’m the coach of the LA Premier Team for her age group, and I’d like you to consider having her join the team.” I wanted to say yes right away, being a braggy dad, but remembering she was only ten I asked: “What would it require?”
“Two practices a week and games on the weekends.” “Well, we’re Christians,” I said, “and we go to church, so if the game conflicts she won’t be able to make it.” He smiled. “Can she make the practices?” “Yes,” I replied. “She can make the practices.” “Well, then I want her on the team.”
Then he said something I’ll never forget: “Life’s about the practices, after all.” And that has always stuck with me. In fact, you probably have heard me recount this story before. It’s a theme that plays out at Epiphany: this spiritual gym, where we are formed by the exercises we practice. We come here to train as a team, or better still, as the apostle Paul reminds us, as a family.
We gather to become our better selves. And when we are better in here, we will be better out there. And if all of us are a bit better out there, at the same time, we will change the world. That is the way Epiphany, this spiritual gym, changes the world, and it is stuff we are familiar with.
But as I contemplate the words of that soccer coach years ago, I’m struck by the enduring power of his wisdom, while also completely convinced that if I ran into him today, and I told him this story, he wouldn’t remember it. So be mindful that words matter, and that the Holy Spirit may be working through what you say.
But the more revelatory thing that stuck with me, as I think back upon that encounter, is that practice is the point because it prepares us for the unexpected. Sure, we practice so we play the game well, everyone would agree on that, but, it is also about something more.
It’s like my prayer life. I get up in the morning and pray, and when I am done, I feel good. It is what I expect, and that, in and of itself, means it’s that time well-spent. But what my prayer life really does is prepare me for that which I’m not expecting in the rest of my day. Prayer is for the unexpected. Prayer is practice for the broken plays.
The spiritual practices are for the broken plays, to prepare us for the unanticipated. And it is the broken plays that change the world. It is when the broken plays result in touchdowns that redemption is found and something lovely about God is revealed.
For example: things were coming apart in 2nd c. Rome under the rule of Antonius when plague struck, and people were dying in mass. Then the Christians stepped in, even as those in power were fleeing, they stepped in to care for the sick and dying. They were ready to redeem a broken play. In the 4th century when the black plague struck, the Benedictine monks and nuns were ready. They stepped into the broken play.
In 18th century England as the horrors of the transatlantic slave trade were seeping into communal awareness, some Christians were gathered by William Wilburforce at Clapham House to stepped into a broken play.
The Quaker’s in the United States, did the same thing, setting up the underground railroad. The Confessing Church in Germany did the same thing resisting the Nazis. The Christians in France, joined the resistance during WWII, to do the same thing. The African-American Church in this country, leading the Civil Rights movement, stepped into a broken play.
The Sanctuary Movement in Central America did the same thing. The Catholic Social Workers movement in the United States did the same thing. The Anglican Church in South Africa, under the leadership of Desmond Tutu did the same thing. They stepped into a broken play to redeem the world.
The thing about a broken play is that you don’t see it coming. You, personally, or you as a community, didn’t see it coming whether by willful denial, or sincere surprise. Then something breaks open and those practicing their faith are ready to respond, because life is about the practices.
You see what Margaret’s soccer coach knew was that he wasn’t training her just so his team would win, he was training her to be a soccer person. And she is. She played on two City championship teams for Seattle Prep, and they once won the state tournament. But even more than that now she is one of the Assistant Coaches for her high school alma mater, and she is changing lives. That coach saw the bigger picture, and he trusted. He trusted that what he did then would prepare Margaret for the future of soccer as it unfolded in her life.
And the analogy holds true for us. We show up on the field, as we have today, here at the spiritual gym, and I hope you enjoy the workout. And, when we do this year in and year out, it’s preparing us not only to be a little bit better out in the world, but more so, it is preparing us for something else, for an unexpected broken play.
That’s what Jesus is talking about with James and John in today’s Gospel. They approach Jesus with a bold request. “Teacher, we want you to do something for us.” Jesus responds, “What do you want me to do?” They answer, “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left…”
Jesus answers: “Can you drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism I am baptized with?” They reply, “Yes, we can.”
Now there are three things happening here: First, Jesus affirms them in their capacity for the cup and the baptism. Second, he indicates what this is going to mean for them. Third, because he doesn’t know what the broken play will be for them he can’t tell them where they are going to end up. All he can do is assure them there will be a broken play, they will be ready, and that this will determine where they will be seated. True for them. True for us as well.
Let’s walk through the Gospel to see how this unfolds. We begin with baptism. You may recall as John the Baptist pulls Jesus up from under the water, the heavens split open and there booms, like a clap of thunder: “This is my Son, with whom I am well pleased.” Jesus is a child of God, part of the family, and we are as well.
Baptism, at its core, is the acknowledgement by a community that we come from God, are designed by God, for God’s own purpose, made by God with a particular broken play in mind. Baptism is the Christian community’s promise to prepare the baptized person for the broken plays in life, by practicing the Christian spiritual exercises.
Then comes the cup. “Are you able to drink the cup I will drink from,” Jesus asks? They say, “Yes.” We too are capable of drinking the cup from which Jesus drinks. But it is important to know what the cup is made of. Remember Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, “Father, take this cup from me. Yet not my will, but yours be done.” It is the cup of suffering.
And, ironically, that is its power… suffering, for suffering represents our common human connection. Suffering is a communal binding agent. It’s not our successes that unite us. It is not our luck, or good looks, or privilege that brings us together. In fact, those are often the things that alienate us from others.
But suffering unites us. We all suffer, and we all know what suffering feels like. Suffering is our common cup.
The early Christians suffered. The Benedictines suffered. The Clapham house community suffered. The Catholic Social movement suffered. The Civil Rights leaders suffered. These people suffered because the people they sought to serve suffered. Suffering is our common human connection, our bond. Suffering put us on the field in the midst of a broken play.
As followers of Jesus we understand this, because we have a Messiah who suffered. We also know as followers of this Jesus that the bad thing is never the last thing. We are Resurrection people, after all!
James and John asked Jesus what the final play was going to be. Where are they going to sit? They wanted to know what to be on the lookout for; to which Jesus replies: God only knows.
So, it is good to recognize that we may never know, this side of eternity,what broken plays we will impact. We may never find ourselves in the middle of a big movement like I listed above. You know, maybe God created that great big New Zealander coach for this sermon today to reach you. And he has no idea, and he never will. All he knew was that he was called to prepare a little girl for a soccer life. All he knew was that practice is enough.
So, get out on the practice field, practice hard, and enjoy the workout. Life is about the practices, after all, and that is enough. God’s got the rest of the game covered.