We Believe in God. Does God Believe in Us?

Let's face it, despite my best intentions and earnest efforts (most of the time), I am not the poster child for holiness or righteousness. I have too many character flaws - pride, temper and impatience - to think I warrant God's faith.  

In the aforementioned video, entitled Dust, which was shown at a spiritual retreat I attended recently, former Evangelical Pastor Rob Bell puts in perspective the story of the Apostles, who were, as he described, mostly rejects who were already working in a trade.

According to Bell, in those days, you were either trained as a rabbi, which were the most highly respected people in the community, or, for those with lesser scholastic capacity, you learned a trade. 

When I write "scholastic capacity," I mean that they were expected to memorize the five books of the Torah by the time they were about ten-years-old.  Those who did so would go to the next level, which required them to memorize the entire Hebrew Scriptures, or what we call the Old Testament, by their early teens.  Then, if they got that far, they could approach a rabbi about becoming their disciple, which wasn't a guarantee.  Only the best of the best were chosen.  The rest had to become apprentices and workmen.         

Peter, James and John were fishermen.  Andrew, Peter's brother, and another unnamed Apostle were disciples of John the Baptist but most were humble and uneducated fishermen or craftsmen.  

Those are the ones that Christ chose; the B team, the misfits and the rabbinical school rejects. "You didn't choose me.  I chose you," He would tell them.  And those are the ones He believed in!

The thought resonated and lingered within me when the video ended.  And, then it hit me (as the choir of angels sang).  It was like the scales falling from Saul's eyes after meeting Jesus on the road to Damascus.   

On the first day of the weekend getaway, the priest leading us in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola (did I mention it was a silent retreat?) told us that the things that keep us up at night, the things that make us lose sleep are usually the things that keep us from getting closer to God. 

Believe it or not, one of the things that keeps me up at night, since about the summer of last year, is my son's baseball. Outside of financial concerns and work responsibilities, it's probably the biggest culprit of my sleeplessness.  In fact, I would probably say that it's taken the lead at this point.  

He's at an age when his development is critical if he wants to continue playing.  Next year, he is starting high school.  Having lost most of the year due to Covid last year, and having had to switch teams because his old team didn't have a 13 and under team, only to switch him back at the beginning of this year when they did, I feel a lot of pressure.  Was I doing the right thing of switching teams?  Was he getting enough playing time?  Was he developing enough? 

Most of the kids playing by their early teens are serious about the game.  It's more competitive.  And, most of the teams for him to play in are already set.  Some have been playing together for years.  So, it's not easy to break in.  

A good part of it, as I Confessed to one of the priests and discussed with another during spiritual direction is my own ego and pride.  My son is a reflection of me and, while I don't have illusions of grandeur that he's going to make it to the Major Leagues, I would like him to play college ball, which I never did; mostly because I gave up on myself.  Since I didn't think I was going to make it to the big leagues, I quit.  I don't know if I would have played college baseball but I never tried.  It's one of my few regrets.        

Still, another part of it, as I reflected on Rob Bell's video, is that I believe in my son, just as God believes in me.  As a father, I think my son can be a great baseball player.  He's good but he has a long way to go to be great.  Yet, there's nothing more I can do.  I can send him to the best academy, hire the best private coaches, have him play with the best teams and in the best tournaments as much as I want.  It's up to him.  He has to want to be great.

It was a revelation because, just as I see my son, I thought that God, who is a Father, sees me.  I'm a reflection of Him (or at least I should be!). I have potential.  I may even be good to some extent but I'm not great.  I have to want to be great; not mediocre as I tell my son but great; a great saint!    

God chose me.  He believes in me.  But, just like my son, I have to believe in myself.  It was a humbling thought.      

Since the retreat, I'm still a bit consumed with my son's baseball as my wife would attest, maybe more than I should.  But now, when I think about whether he can ever reach his full potential, I think, hey, it's not like he has to memorize the entire Hebrew scriptures.  He can do this!  

More importantly, I think about that weekend with St. Ignatius and realize it's not in my hands.  It's up to him and God.  And, God believes in him...