One... Two... Three... Strikes....

I just got back from Turner Field. I was a grand experience hanging out with the gentlemen from my house church plus an Ed. It was an interesting time sitting around eating chips, salsa, burgers, and the always favorite bratwursts.

There is something about a baseball game that just seems stoic. Sitting in the stands. Hearing to sounds of vendors screaming loudly their pled for you to purchase a "cold one" or a nice bag of Georgia peanuts. There is an interesting unity found with those who play on the grass and the thousands who watch. There is an odd unity even between the opposing sides. The love of baseball. Its full of sights, sounds, tastes, smells.

I am not a sports fan at all. In fact I would encourage many not to bother with them, but there is something about a baseball game that brings out the peewee player in me. Is it a distant hope of overcoming a handicap to play? Is it the desire to belong to something? Is it pure pride in wanting to be good at something that thousands of people wish they could be good at?

There is an intersting relationship between baseball and people. When the certain music plays or when the pitcher has a full count, people know when to make a noise. Often when they do its a big noise. One with hope, faith, urgency.

A sound that I believe dreams are made of.

How can we mimic this in Christ-like culture? How can we yell at the top of our lungs when Jesus "takes one for his team"? How do we shout with hope, faith, and urgency? How do we learn to recognize when it is time to praise, dance, sing, worship?

I simple ball game unites us Americans deeply.

Christ unites all humanity eternally...