Yeah, it's just a game ... however ...

How many hours did you spend on Royals baseball this year? How much money? Some of you, not so much. Others, a fair amount. I'm not being critical - I, too, spent quite a few hours and no small sum, and lately, quite a few antacids. Now, think about all the really serious Royals fans who spent far more time and money than you, and then add them all up. Then add in all the baseball fans for all these teams in the country. Then add in all the fans for all the professional sports. How many hours spent? How many billions of dollars spent? And that's just for one calendar year - how much over the last 30 years totaled together?* (Let's not even try to calculate in the world's fanbase for soccer.)

Why? Why have we as a society dedicated so much time and money for sports that we watch other people play? For a feeling! Most of us don't walk away from a game much richer. We don't get the trophies (instead, we spend even more money on t-shirts as our "trophies"). We don't get traded to better teams (as if there were any!). We do all this for a feeling. Or rather, for a set of feelings. We spend hours upon hours and buckets of money in order to feel something. I find that amazing! It's just a game, right? But I don't think it's necessarily bad.

First, it's a seven-month drama, and in this case, a drama with happy ending. There's a storyline with lots of different characters. There's conflict, not only in every game, but early in the season, with pitchers from other teams beaning our players, real conflict. Gordon gets injured and is out for a month and a half - will the team still be successful? Holland has to have arm surgery - will Davis be as good in the role of closer? We're six outs away from being eliminated in Houston - will we make it to the next round?

Then we have the life lesson of overcoming obstacles to achieve a goal. The 2015 season, especially on the heartbreak of being so close last year, is a great testament to enduring through obstacles, marching ever forward to a single goal. Management made some brilliant additions to the team in the offseason as well as midseason, each of them proving to be important for overcoming challenges that came our way.

Of course, there's a great lesson on teamwork, the various parts contributing the whole, all for a goal greater than any individual. Christian Colon gets one at bat in the World Series, and drives in the World Series winning run on a two-strike pitch. Terrance Gore, whose only job is to run fast, plays in only eight regular season games and only one postseason game, but changes the dynamic. Salvador Perez, the series MVP, didn't even get to catch the final outs, because he yielded to the speedier Dyson on the basepath. In fact, deciding an MVP was difficult because of the tremendous level of teamwork.

Plus, we know these guys (or we feel like we do). We get to know the players a little bit, their stories, their families. We celebrate because people we like were playing the game. Three players suffered the death of a parent, and we felt a little slice of those family stories. We await the imminent birth of Ben Zobrist's next child. We wait to see who Salvy will douse with water or how he will next embarrass Lorenzo Cain by posting another secret video.

One of the greatest effects was the sense of community around the city. We experienced community with people we might often disagree with on other issues: politics, how to solve racial tension, gender issues. People in the neighborhood, at work, in the store, and at the ballpark - we shared a sense of community with one another, high-fiving people we don't even know.

Sure, it's just a game. But because of this game, and especially this season, we got to feel something - we felt what we ought to feel about what truly is important. Life is a drama, and people have stories that matter. Facing and overcoming obstacles is long, hard work, but we need examples on how to do it. Through teamwork, we not only get more done, but we become better people. Getting to know who we work with is how our work becomes more than a job. And in the digital age, building community has to be more intentional than ever - baseball gave us a reminder we shouldn't be so angry with one another. All of these things that we spent so much time and money to feel through baseball are experiences we should also feel in our daily lives.

For followers of Christ, there's another lesson. Because of sports, for a moment, we are reminded how our journey in Christ will end - one day, there will be a postseason, filled with epic contests. And then after that, we are assured of victory, with a fantastic celebration. Because we know this is what the rest of this season holds for us, we can live now during the "regular season," confidently embracing the drama, striving together with teamwork to overcome obstacles, getting to truly know each other along the way in genuine community.

We should feel all those things in life. Baseball reminds us to. So, yeah, it's worth a little time and money.

* - Yes, I picked 30 years on purpose. :)

Rooted in Failure

After one of the World Series games last week, I listened to one of the players being interviewed, and he said one of the most profound things I've ever heard in a post-game interview. OK, OK ... the competition for profundity in pro athlete interviews is not the hardest competition in the world to win, but even so, it was a gem.

I didn't write down the exact quote, but the gist is this: "Baseball is rooted in failure." The team just won the game, bouncing back after a previous loss. But even after winning, that was his thought: baseball is rooted in failure. Sounds odd. But it's fantastic.

His point is this: The goal of training and playing the game is to push until you fail, learn from your failures, and then become better. Reaching your limit or facing an opponent who's stronger than you, "failing" in that sense, and then using failure to improve toward excellence. You reach the World Series by failing ... repeatedly ... even intentionally. Without failing, a team (or a player) will never become good enough to make it to the Series - you cannot reach excellence without failing. Keep pushing to point of failure ... then figure out how not to fail in that way again.

This is more than saying that failure is inevitable, so react well when it happens. It looks at failure not as an unwelcome, unavoidable guest, but something that should be sought out in order to be overcome. This player sees Failure as a useful tool towards excellence.

That's baseball. Or other sports. Or even business. And this player was not claiming to spout biblical truth for Christians to follow. But is there a lesson for followers of Christ in this? I think so.

First, this is not to say that we should push until we fail in sin, and then figure out not to sin next time. I'm not going in that direction at all.

Second, neither am I talking about trying to become more acceptable to God or more righteous. In Christ, we have Christ's 100% righteousness as our own and are perfectly accepted by God because of grace alone.

Third, I see Christians across the country afraid ... fearful! ... to take risks for the Kingdom of God because of a fear of failure. They avoid failure, and in order to avoid failure, they avoid risk. Here's the dirty little secret - that is failure!

Rather, we can look at excellence in advancing the Kingdom of God as something we can achieve only by pressing in the right directions until we "fail" by reaching our limit or facing challenges that are stronger than we are. And then we figure out why we failed, and then how to become better at our goal. We need not stay in mediocrity. And if we can see Failure as a useful tool towards excellence, we can in fact become more excellent at the mission Jesus gave us to do.

We can not succeed at all, of course, without the empowerment of the Spirit, but certainly we can became more capable vessels by seeing success to be rooted in failure.