I remember when Carlos Beltran played for other teams and did this to us. I had to look up the details, but I remember the moments. The Astros in ’04, the Mets in ’06... the guy’s postseason performance, by the numbers, is just a shade better than Babe Ruth’s. Last night he bore the weight of a baseball-obsessed city on his shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world, and wore a happy but easy smile in the post-game interview. He responded to the first question by thanking God for letting him be able to play baseball. He responded to the second question by saying he gave the glory to God.
This is not the sort of thing interviewers are after, and it divides fans into those who nod in appreciation and those who find this sort of thing really, really annoying. I tend to react in two ways. The first is theological: do we really believe in a God who takes sides in the pennant race, or who rewards those who believe in Him with a better swing? The second in from an evangelistic point of view - call it the public relations aspect. Does this sort of thing turn people off? Does it make Christians sound like annoying simpletons?
But I think those reactions miss the main point. Like for so many athletes in so many interviews, the first order of business was a shout out to the Lord. Have your own opinion about the best way to go about it, but if someone’s first priority is to praise God, that’s awesome. If you’re tuned into the Cardinals and last nights’ game, think for a second of the popularity enjoyed in that moment by Beltran. He could have had the Gateway Arch reinstalled in his yard if he’d asked. Think of the power of that popularity and adulation, and all the ways he could have used it. And the first thing on his mind was to say “thank you” to God. The question we ask ourselves shouldn’t be “would I have done it the same way?” It’s “Would I have done it at all? Would thanking God, however public and awkward, have been the first thing on my mind? Maybe I would handle it differently, but would it have occurred to me at all?”
This sermon needs to move on from baseball, even though that’s hard for me in October with the Cardinals playing for the pennant! Let’s think more broadly about thanking and praising God, and the stories of Scripture we’ve just heard.
Naaman was an Aramean general, in other words, not Jewish. 2nd Kings tells us he was a man of great esteem in the sight of the King and all the people. If they did post-battle interviews, he would have had one. He was a valiant soldier. But Naaman had an embarrassing, and ultimately devastating, problem: leprosy. That dark awful cloud hung over everything, spoiled everything.
How desperate was Naaman? Consider this: it was a captive young girl from Israel who mentioned to her mistress that there was a Prophet back home that could heal him. And the mistress told Namaan and Namaan told the King and the King said to give it a shot. He packed up a royal entourage of gifts and traveled to a foreign land to beg for a miracle on a second-hand rumor from a slave girl.
Have you ever been that desperate? Maybe you have. We’re talking about the things we want so badly that they eclipse the rest of the world. In moments like that we are humbled. We are not the great general, the great hero, the one who has it all together and can stand on our own. We’re humbled and plaintive and willing to try anything. In moments like that we come to God naturally, with hearts bowed and knees bent, saying “Help. Please. Help.”
Fast-forward many centuries, and again lepers journeyed in Israel, seeking a rumored holy man who people said had power to heal. Ten lepers: ten heart-crushing diagnoses, ten stories of desperation. They were all healed! But only one returned. Luke said he was praising God at the top of his voice. I’m sure that annoyed and even alarmed some people. He wouldn’t care about that. He had to return to this man who had given him such a great gift, he had to say “thank you.”
Jesus was thanked for ten percent of the blessings dispensed in this story, which I imagine is much better than his usual average. But you get the point. It’s easy and natural to run to the Lord when we need something, when we’re at the end of our rope, when we’re desperate. But when it comes to really thanking Him?
I’m not talking about a sort of undefined grateful feeling. The other nine had that, don’t you think? Of course they did. They’d had the best day ever. I’m sure they were filled with a happy satisfaction, a certain overjoyed grateful glow. Probably most of them had people they had to show, right away, to share the incredible news. But it was only the one whose gratitude took solid form, and that’s the kind of gratitude I’m talking about. The kind that does something. The kind that puts praising and thanking the Lord as priority number one, the first order of business, coming before all the other really important things.
Be that guy. I don’t need to know your story to know you should be that guy, just like I should be that guy. Because everyone here owes everything to God. The ability to play baseball? You bet. Also the ability to smell barbecue and hear a laughing child and produce something by the work of our hands. The ability to take a breath.
We owe everything to God. Remembering that, and praising and thanking Him, is priority one. Put that right at the center of your heart, your mind, your schedule, your attention - right at the center of everything you are. We owe everything to God. Maybe the best thing that could happen to any of us would be to forget that a little less often.
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