"A Case of Humble Pie" - Luke 18:9-14 - October 28, 2001

Now that the World Series is being played our society is focused on baseball. The Atlanta Braves and the Seattle Mariners have both fallen by the wayside, humbled by their apparent worthier opponents, the Arizona Diamondbacks and the New York Yankees. This is a game of super egos and losing, at the very least, was a humbling experience.

Babe Ruth is one of the most colorful players baseball has ever known. He is also one of the most famous names in American sports. One cold December night in 1946, the words of Jesus - "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" -took on special meaning for the Babe. He explained why in an article: "Even though I drifted away from the church, I did have my own altar, a big window in my New York apartment overlooking the city lights. Often I would kneel before that window and say my prayers. I would feel quite humble then. I'd ask God to help me ... and pray that I'd measure up to what he expected of me."

On this cold December night, however, the Babe was lying in bed in a New York hospital, seriously ill. Paul Carey, one of Babe's oldest and closest friends, was at his side. After a while, Carey turned to Ruth and asked, "Babe, they're going to operate in the morning. Don't you think you should see a priest?"

Ruth saw the concern in Carey's eyes, and for the first time in his life, he realized that death could strike him out. The kingdom of heaven was, perhaps, at hand for him. He knew he had to take seriously Jesus' words. Ruth looked into Carey's eyes and said, "Yes, Paul! I'd appreciate your calling a priest."

That night Babe Ruth spent a long time talking to Jesus with the priest's assistance. When he finished, Babe had made a full and humble confession. He didn't hold anything back. "After the priest left," the Babe said, "and I lay in bed that evening, I thought what a comfortable feeling to be free from fear and worries. I could simply turn them over to God." (From Sower's Seeds Aplenty, Fourth Planting, pp. 12-13, copyright 1996 by Brian Cavanaugh, T.O.R. in. Paulist Press, Mahwah, NJ. Used with permission.)

Like the Babe, the tax collector said, "God, be merciful to me a sinner." On the other hand, the Pharisee in our story said, "Thank God I am not like him." He was the good guy, righteous and hard-working. He fasted regularly, went to the temple on time, paid his pledge and was an upstanding member of the faith community. The tax collector was a scoundrel, taking money from his neighbors all in the name of profit. But, his prayer in the temple was really different. His was a prayer of confession.

Unlike the Pharisee he humbled himself and asked for forgiveness. He didn’t boast of his goodness or make any attempt to compare himself to others. He recognized his shortcomings and mistakes, a man in the need of grace. The Pharisee, on the other hand, had enough religion to be virtuous but not enough to be humble.

I never played baseball. The one time I tried out for little league I was cut my first night out. The coach said I needed to practice a few more years and try again later. It was a humbling experience. All of my other friends made the team. I was devastated and left the practice field trying to hide my tears and broken heart. My cousin, who also tried out for the team, sensed my despair and said "If Wags doesn’t play, either do I." You can imagine how good it felt to have my closest friend stand with me in one of my most humiliating moments.

In softball, however I was a terror. Just ask a few of the fellows here at St. Paul’s. They sometimes had to restrain me when I screamed at the umpire for giving breaks to the Methodists. The umpire must have been a member of their church. Then there were the Catholics. They always won and I was forever accusing them of recruiting "ringers."

Its always the "other guy" or "those people" who we point out to make ourselves look better. But in this story its the other guy who humbles himself and is ultimately exalted. Jesus has away of reversing what we consider to be normal. Instead of the righteous, hard-working, rule following Pharisee who ends up on top, its the cheating, unethical tax collector.

Jesus is instructing his disciples that humility means more to God than all the piety in the world. This story is about the realization that none of us are perfect and everyone of us needs God’s mercy. It is also about being honest as to who we really are. God wants us to be authentic, accepting both our gifts and limitations without the need to compare ourselves to anyone else. Beyond that it is a story about transformation. We grow in faith when we can confess our sins and acknowledge God as the source of our being.

One of my all time favorite stories is about Ralph Corlis. He was a Little League baseball coach who made it to the Baseball Hall of Shame five seasons in a row. His two sons played little league baseball in a suburban league. In the sixth season, after the third or fourth game, he noticed that about thirty to forty kids sat on the bench and rarely played. "What do these kids do?" Ralph asked one of his sons. "They watch the team play ball," one said.

Ralph thought a lot about the boys on the bench and one day he approached them and said, "How would you like to play on my team?" When he was finished he had enough kids for five teams. They met on a piece of farm land donated by a farmer. "This is first base," Coach Corlis said, dropping his car seat cushion on the ground, "and this is second," he continued, dropping his jacket. He noted they already had a marker for third base. One of the boys said, "But, that’s a pile of dung." So Coach Corlis said, "Don’t slide."

Coach Corlis randomly assigned his players so that everyone could play. The word spread in the community because any boy who played on Ralph’s team never had to worry about sitting on the bench. One evening, three other coaches paid a visit to Ralph’s home. "What’s your game?" asked one of the coaches. "Baseball," Ralph answered. "But what are you trying to prove, playing every boy who comes out. How many games have you won?" "I haven’t won any," Ralph replied. "I didn’t think it was very important."

The other coaches thought Ralph was crazy, playing the game just for fun. But Ralph just grinned. "You should have been there the other night when Todd Milhaus slid into third." They of course did not see the humor. "Unfortunately, losers don’t draw crowds," smirked another coach. "Oh, we don’t want crowds," Ralph said. "Adults just mess things up for the kids." The other coaches were bewildered, they didn’t understand why Ralph could have a tam and never win.

"Its hard to explain, but kids go all through their lives learning how to win, but no one ever teaches them how to lose." No one ever teaches them humility. "Most kids don’t know how to handle defeat. They fall apart. It’s important to know how to lose because you do a lot of it when you grow up. You have to have perspective, how to know what is important and what isn’t," Ralph said.

Coach Corlis’s team was 0-38 the first season and 0-43 the second. Parents would have given their right arm to see the kids play but they weren’t permitted to watch the games. In the annals of sandlot baseball, there had never been another team like it. They had lost every game they played and did it without uniforms, hotdogs, parents, practice, cheerleaders, lighted scoreboards and press coverage.

Then one afternoon something happened. Ralph had a little nervous bedwetter on the mound who had never played before. He wore glasses two inches thick and refused to take the bicycle clamp off his pantleg. The kid pitched out of his mind, throwing them out at first, catching infield pop-ups and throwing curves balls that couldn’t be hit. Ralph’s team won the game 9-0. At the end of the game the boys were strangely quiet. Defeat they could handle, but winning was something else. Ralph sat in his car a long time before starting it. He just wanted some time to think. "See you next week, Coach," yelled a couple of the boys. But Ralph Corlis never went near the cornfield or baseball again. As he explained to his two sons, "I couldn’t stand the pressure." (from The Grass is Always Greener Over the Septic Tank, by Erma Bombeck)

Dr. Keith Wagner, St. Paul’s United Church of Christ, Sidney, Ohio