Tag: life

Scripture, Spirituality

Play Ball!

Christine Eberle

The Wisdom of Occasional Obliviousness

I watched a lot of baseball last month. (To be clear: I watched a lot of baseball for me.) After the Phillies were eliminated in post-season play, I embraced those scrappy Toronto Blue Jays and followed them all the way to the heartbreaking eleventh inning of game seven of the World Series.

A curious thing happens to me when I’m watching baseball.  I don’t exactly forget which team I’m rooting for, but occasionally I do cheer at the wrong time. Sometimes, when the “other” side pulls off a spectacularly good play or “my” side makes an egregious error, I respond in a way that causes my husband to shoot me a baffled look.

I could blame it on the change of uniforms from home to away, or on my divided attention. But maybe it’s something more human. The player diving into a stolen base with a quarter inch to spare deserves my admiration, just as the player running backwards to catch the ball but losing it in the lights deserves my sympathy. In that moment of relief or disappointment, the categories of “us and them” dissolve. I’m happy for the guy; I’m sorry for the other guy, even if I’m not “supposed” to be.

In Fr. Greg Boyle’s new book, Cherished Belonging, the Jesuit founder of Homeboy Industries says that God’s dream for the world would be to replace “Us VS. Them” with “Nobody VS. Anybody.” Perhaps that’s what Saint Paul was getting at when he encouraged us to “rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15).

No Us and Them, just Us. This is, indeed, God’s dream come true.

Fr. Greg Boyle, SJ

In these polarizing times, it is so easy to demonize the “other side” (whichever side of whatever thing that happens to be for us). But can we also recognize goodness or sorrow, even in people whose views and actions we abhor? Can we acknowledge flaws and blind spots, even in people pursuing causes dear to our hearts? Can we forget—just for a moment—who we’re supposed to be rooting for, and simply be humans together?

Nobody VS. Anybody is a tall order. Most days, I’m not there; I’m too angry at politicians and corporations who put job security and profits ahead of human decency, and who gin up enemies for people to fear in order to keep us pitted against one another. That’s why I’m grateful to baseball: for providing the occasional moments of obliviousness that allow me to glimpse how God’s dream might be possible.

Spirituality, Travel, Writing

An Analog Adventure Awaits

Christine Eberle

Yesterday morning, I found myself missing the oddest thing: not having a laptop.

Let me explain. For more than thirty years, at least one morning in August has found me on the deck at my uncle’s beachfront condo in Wildwood NJ, drinking coffee and watching the sunrise. Yesterday was one of those days. I was resisting the pull of my devices, temporarily keeping at bay the emails to read, the editing to do, the blog post to write. In prayer, I let images of previous years on that deck wash over me, until I settled on a particularly fond memory: vacation mornings when my mom was still alive.

Wildwood Deck, circa ???

I’d rise first, slip out of our room, brew the coffee, head to the deck, pray and/or journal, then get comfortable with whatever novel I was reading at the time. Presently, the sliding door would open and there would be Mom, coffee in one hand, novel in the other. We’d talk a while, then sink into our books until the sun drove us back into the air conditioning.

Mom died in 2007, before everyone was schlepping their MacBooks to the shore, before anyone but the earliest adopters had a smartphone. Unless I brought some thinking to do, there was simply no such thing as working on vacation. What a luxury!  Although I appreciate the flexibility of my freelance existence, the danger—as I’m sure you well know—is that work-from-anywhere easily morphs into work-from-everywhere, devouring the very notion of down-time.

That’s why I’m very excited about the week ahead.

Tomorrow, Porter and I fly to Ottawa to begin a bucket-list adventure: traveling across Canada by train. Picture a sleeping compartment, dining car, observation lounge, the works!  There will be only one thing missing, I discovered as I read the fine print recently: there is no WIFI on the Canadian. I wasn’t going to be bringing my laptop anyway (in the interest of traveling light), and since international roaming is wicked expensive on my mobile plan, I’m just going to have to pass the time the old-fashioned way.

I’ll confess, I’m equal parts psyched and anxious. I’ve probably packed too many books; for months, I’ve been curating train-worthy paperback novels I can leave behind as I finish. (More, of course, are downloaded on my various book apps.) Should I choose to write instead of read, I have a notebook (the analog variety), plus I’ve saved the last several Sunday Times crossword puzzles. We have a deck of cards. There will be three meals a day, with people to meet across the table at each, and of course there’s the sleeping, but still . . . even if the train runs on time (which we are assured it will not), it’s a 96-hour, four-day journey without WIFI.

I can’t wait to tell you all about it . . . but I must! Stay tuned for stories from the far side.

May your own August days come bearing whatever graces you need.

Christine