The best things in life are those that bring out the meaningfulness of life. Father’s Day is a day that people can be enriched by such symbolic moments that reflect reality in order to better appreciate it—when men go to church with their family, fire up grills, walk and talk with their wives, and play ball with children.
And this category of play, of leisure, is one that is all-important for the all-American father, being so bound up (as men often are) with the daily grind that they forget to play ball. For even as fathers play catch or catch the old ballgame on a Sunday afternoon, they should remember that God the Father is at play with all of us—even in America’s pastime, as it mimics the length and breadth of life within the confines of the grassy diamond.
Capturing this interplay from a Catholic perspective is the heartfelt documentary Champions of Faith by Tom Allen. Including personal and memorable interviews with greats like Mike Piazza, Mike Sweeney, and Sandy Alomar, Jr., the film lays out how the experience of playing, coaching, and managing baseball brought meaning to the lives of men, fathers, and Christians.
From learning the spiritual discipline of peddling and letting God steer, to forgiveness and conversion, this engaging documentary brings so much that is human and divine together in the context of playing baseball, with moving accounts of how the game drew so many to a closer understanding of themselves and God.
There is a sanctity of play that is often appreciated in the game of baseball. People (especially fathers) enjoy pointing out baseball’s philosophical tones: no time clock, the good players fail over half the time, the purposeful switch from offense to defense, both physical and mental interaction, the strategic and gutsy journey home. Baseball is a poetic game of patience that reflects the ups and downs of life itself.
And that’s precisely why it’s a great game to engage on Father’s Day, for fathers are leaders of life as heads of families. And as Champions of Faith shows eloquently, baseball can bring fatherhood out in startling ways, as in its remarkable story about third-base coach Rich Donnelly and the passing of his teenage daughter, and how that loss, and her daughter’s prophetic words about the World Series he would win after her death, restored him to his faith in Christ.
Baseball, like any form of play, has a purity about it that is profound because it deals with renewal. Things are made new again by the power of play, a power wielded by young ones and those old enough to have a childlike view. There are fewer lessons to be taken more seriously than the lesson of play—of playing well in all stages of life, so that the delights of the visible and invisible may play a part in every soul’s journey home round the bases.
These delights and their surprises form the basis of many of the spiritual lessons the documentary features, springing unexpectedly but naturally from the dugout, in-field, and outfield, bringing with it growth in virtue and the life-changing impact of teamwork, sacrifice, and leadership. And most importantly, prayer, as pitcher Jeff Suppan says in the film recounting a tense inning in game seven of the NLC, “I prayed to Jesus, I prayed through Mary, I prayed through my guardian angel, I asked the saints for help, just to help me relax and let the will of God happen.” He prayed to play well for his teammates, not for himself—and so should we all pray and play.
Fathers who play with their children, who play for their children—whether with a simple game of catch, or going out to the stadium, or taking in a televised game or a baseball documentary—teach through delight and towards delight, with all the trials that come along the way. Such play exercises the imagination to imitate the goodness of things in a smaller way in order to participate one day in the goodness of things in a larger way.
Play is both the beginning and the end of wisdom, as it delights in truth before it is fully known and then again, once it is known. The delight that introduces children to the world, and to the work of the world, regains its sway once that world and its work have been undertaken and understood as good, true, and beautiful. Play prepares children for serious engagement, but that labor in turn prepares people to play again as men.
Thus, fathers play for the same reasons that their children play: to delight in truth, goodness, and beauty and, in so doing, to catch a glimpse or some fleeting flash of the eternal in the transient. A boy may play ball with his father even as they both play with the Father. Babe Ruth called his shot when he stepped up to the plate and pointed into the distance beyond center field—and that famous gesture can be seen as pointing to heaven as the intended destination in the game of life.
As baseball enriched the faiths of those in the film, so is play is a propensity for proficiency, leading on to labor, and through that labor, on again to play, to delight in the mystery rather than the mastery of things learned. The backyard, the classroom, the church, the sports field, the dining-room table, the office; all should be playgrounds of delight in the great game of redemption, where, in Yogi Berra’s immortal wisdom, “It ain’t over ’til it’s over.”
Holy Scripture says that Wisdom was with God from the beginning, playing in His presence and in His creation—which goes hand-in-glove with Plato’s principle that wisdom begins in wisdom. Play, and the spirit of play, must not be dismissed as foolishness, but as wisdom. Virtue is characterized not by force, but by facility (and discipline, of course, as the players in Champions make all too clear). But that virtuosic play arises from the readiness to rejoice in good, true, and beautiful things, uniting work and play in a single vision of wisdom.
Of course, play is something that doesn’t come as easily over time, just as the film shows that faith doesn’t come as easily over time for athletes growing in fame and wealth. But the spiritual flare of play, of divine play, can reappear in a flash from the pitcher’s mound, and the old are often caught marveling at the lesson of play in the timelessness of the old ballgame. They watch and learn as their children swing away in little leagues, playing better than most work.
“The game will humble you in a heartbeat,” says Craig Biggio in Allen’s documentary, and he speaks with the simple profundity of truth. Champions of Faith reminds its viewers that there is a sincerity in that striving around the bases, in the resolution to do better next time, that is pure and seeking perfection. As has been said, baseball is like church: many attend, few understand. This is the secret of profound play, of serious play, and playing baseball.
Fathers should seize Father’s Day as a day to reconnect with play. And what better way than through some baseball? This Father’s Day weekend, EWTN will be broadcasting Champions of Faith, and fathers shouldn’t miss the chance to experience it. It’s an inspiring, eye-opening journey through the intersection of faith and the great game of baseball, and a tangible presentation of the Catholic attitude in the art of play. Catch it with your family this Father’s Day.
Play is one of the most Catholic things in the world because those who play, whether infants or ancients, are happy, which is the whole purpose of the Faith. It is to the happy that fathers should look to as a guide in the everyday effort of every day. Happiness is akin to holiness, and keeping the ball in play with the Father is the gameplan for an everlasting life of beatitude. Play ball!
Editor’s Note: Celebrate Father’s Day and the Vatican’s Jubilee of Sport this weekend by watching Champions of Faith: Baseball Edition June 14th at 8:00 pm EST and June 16th 1:30 am EST/10:30 pm PST on the EWTN television network, via its streaming platform, or on the EWTN app.
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To purchase Champions of Faith: Baseball Edition DVDs for friends and family, visit Sophia’s religious catalogue, or own the movie on Amazon Prime.
Photo by Eduardo Balderas on Unsplash
