The Kitchen Sink
An occasional piece of paper
June 29, 2008
Vol. 11 no. 25

Everything But...
           A sabbatical is a sabbath of years, a seventh day of rest. God rested not for the sake of resting, but to be renewed so that God could create again. One of the oldest ways of sabbatical renewal is to go on a pilgrimage, to head for some place, a shrine, where something you are lacking is there to complete you. I have gone on pilgrimage aplenty this sabbatical - to Princeton, this Eden of higher learning, to Jonathan Edwards’ last haunt, and finally to the holy of holies, Camden Yards.
           Yes, it is a ball park, but the best one in baseball, and after all, it is Oriole Park. I rode down to Baltimore with Howard Louthan, another member of the Center here, and his twin boys. Howard, too, is a native Baltimorean and together we drove the boys around the city to the pilgrimage sites: the Presbyterian manse in north Baltimore where his father was the minister for 18 years, the first McDonald’s he went to, by my old manse near the old stadium, stopped into my home church, visited the spectacular Walters Art Gallery and ate crab cakes at Lexington Market. Finally, we met my nephew and his twin boys for the game. Double fun.
           There is something edging onto the holy there - the greenest grass, the gathering of 31,000 faithful, the ceremony, the hymns of the 7th inning stretch, and the performance of the players when extraordinary plays are validated and consecrated by our seeing them happen. You can make the same play in practice, but only during sacred time (game time) does it really matter. And the Orioles won, 7-5. As David Calam once observed about a Riders’ victory, “they tried to lose, but didn’t start early enough!” No matter, this was the first time I have seen the Orioles win in 25 years.
           If I have you thinking now, isn’t this like worship?
           One of the things you notice at a ball game is the noise. At first it’s a buzz of people talking to their neighbours, but pretty soon you realize it is the buzz of anticipation. Something is about to happen and we do not know exactly what shape it will take. Then a base hit, a great catch, a stolen base, a strikeout, an error, a home run, and the fans don’t just talk, but clap hands, cheer and jeer, stand up and roar. In the 9th inning, whether the Orioles are trying to come from behind or finish off the Astros, no one needs to announce the hymns, the crowd is on the edge of their seats and the buzz is deafening.
           This may not fit well with some faithful people, but I am not a ‘fan’ of those mandatory pious silences before worship. I would rather here a buzz of conversation, because I know then people are anticipating that something is about to happen. The Spirit descends, the Word is preached, the people hear and are strangely moved, prayers are thick with the genuine thoughts of hurting people – and that kind of silence is as if we are all talking with one another, and with God. Remember the song from “Jesus Christ Superstar” – “What’s the Buzz, Tell Me What’s Happening?” Need more buzz. Bob K

A Liturgy in Progress: 17 celebrants around the diamond. Camden Yards, Baltimore, Upper Reserved. Orioles on defense versus Houston Astros