The Mystery of Faith and the Cubs

At Mass last night, the priest said the nuns had several common phrases.  One of them was, if you asked a question about faith, their answer was “It’s a mystery.”  And so it appears with baseball.

I’ve never been a baseball fan.  The lifelong, rabid devotion to the “Cubbies” is a complete mystery to me.  But my twitter conversation with Jimmy Greenfield got me thinking about “the mystery of faith” and baseball.

In both cases it’s hard to explain to someone, who just doesn’t “get it.”  I’m sure a lot of people would wonder why I attend Mass weekly, and when I can, during the week.  I wonder the same about someone who spends their hard-earned money going to a Cubs game.  I’ve only been to one game my entire life and I got those tickets for free.

I would hope my actions would speak more about my faith, but I do have my moments when you would be hard pressed to imagine I was Catholic.  Cub fans are similar.

A friend of mine was raised on the southside and is a life-long White Sox fan.  He had the audacity to put the White Sox flag on his northside home (a route used by Cub fans to and from the game).  The drunken fans hurled obscenities, insults and whatever objects they could find at his house.

Today is the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity and the Catechism teaches that “by sending his only Son and the Spirit of Love in the fullness of time, God has revealed his innermost secret:  God himself is an eternal exchange of love, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and he has destined us to share in that exchange.”

I have no idea what the Cubs are destined for.  I’m told by the fans that it’s a World Series, but all I’ve ever heard my whole life is “wait till next year.”

Like I said, it’s a mystery to me.



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  • I guess it boils down to WWJD.

    My buddy Joe is who I mean. Joe just keeps on believing in the Nine current apostles and each morning faces the Holy Confines and recites his prayers, with a special plea to St. Jude to accomplish the impossible. With faith one can... well, one sometimes might... I mean, miracles happen, no?

    As far as the friend and the White Sox flag, it is too bad that more of the Cub Faithful do not see baseball as Joe and Jesus do: love your enemies.

    The White Sox fan is welcome back in Zion, which happens to be located on da sout-side.

    Amen, and may the Holy Goat drive out the Cursed Goat. (See, I am loving my enemies, by blessing them, but I will not be holding my breath for a miracle, God knows.)

  • You're too funny! I, too, believe in miracles, but in this instance, even I don't have that much faith! ;-) Thanks for stopping by and commenting.

  • Your articles make me think, a miracle in itself!

    Having just visited the Roman Colosseum, I cannot help but think that some future drodian will be touring the restored Wrigley Field and either be inspired by the stories of the Nine Apostles and their never-ending struggle against the lions or horrified that millions attended and watched the same horrific thumbs down results.

    St. Jude, please!

  • In reply to Richard Davis:

    St. Jude, indeed! LOL

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