Alleluia! Jackson Holliday Has Been Called-Up! Alleluia!
3rd Sunday of Easter
At about quarter to nine this past Wednesday morning, I was getting ready for Mass at Saint Thomas Aquinas in Hampden, disoriented from a transatlantic flight, exhausted from jet lag, dizzy from seasonal allergies, and ignorant of local affairs having spent the previous seven days in Rome, when one of the faithful parishioners there caught me off guard when she asked, “What are we going to do to celebrate?! Jackson is coming! Jackson Holliday is coming! We’re supposed to celebrate!”
Seeing my puzzled expression, she then asked, “Are you the only citizen of Baltimore who does not know the things that have happened here in these days?” And I asked, “What things?” And she answered, “Concerning Jackson Holliday, who is a baseball prospect great and mighty with bat and with glove, and how he has been called up from AAA ball to join the majors and will make his long-awaited debut tonight. Ever since he was drafted, we have hoped that he would be the one to redeem Baltimore and win for us the World Series.” Then, beginning with Brooks Robinson, Boog Powell, and Cal Ripken, Jr., she interpreted for me all the events of Orioles history pertaining to the arrival of Jackson Holliday.
The second part of that story isn’t true, but the first is. I hadn’t heard the news of Holliday’s call-up, and this devoted follower of the team was eager to share it with me, and in that moment, I did feel at least a little like the confused and disoriented disciples on their way to Emmaus trying to make sense of the news of the Resurrection they had just received.
Now, more than just drawing a silly analogy, the point on which I’d like to reflect today is my reaction to the news. Once I processed what I was being told, I noticed within myself a lack of excitement, a sort of despondency that I don’t think could be explained by sleep deprivation or airborne pollen. I grew up in Baltimore. I’ve followed the Orioles since I was a kid. Should I not have immediately been overcome with joy upon hearing that baseball’s number one prospect would now be joining the team, a team already with high hopes for a championship season?
I became curious about my lack of joy and discovered two reasons for it, which I think are also causes for our lack of joy in the Resurrection and determination in living the Christian life: cynicism and neglect.
Even as the Orioles have had success in recent years, more than once the cynic within me has said, “We’ve been down this road before.” Being swept in the divisional series last fall only amplified the cynic’s voice. I’ve seen other phenoms make their debut. I’ve bought their t-shirts and hunted down their autographs. I’ve stayed up late to watch extra-innings games and spent plenty of cash on tickets. All for what? Disappointment and heartbreak year after year. Why should I expect this time, with this acclaimed savior, to be any different?
In any arena of life, disappointment breeds cynicism, and the life of faith is no different. Many people, including myself, struggle with setbacks and regressions even as we strive with all our might to turn away from lesser things and live more intentionally as disciples of the Lord. Falling backwards deflates our spirit and makes us question whether any of the effort was worth it. We have just celebrated Easter Sunday. Prior to Easter, we had the season of Lent in which we are supposed to be purified from our former way of living by prayer, penance, and charity. A good many Catholics invest heavily in Lent—taking up real mortifications of the flesh and going about doing real, good work—only to find themselves soon after Easter back in the confessional for the same sins they always have to confess. When cynicism wins out, we resign ourselves to just being this way forever. We give up trying to go the extra mile. We accept a pet sin or vice as our lot in life and say, “If God didn’t want me to have this, he would have taken it away by now.” Then, when we hear the good news of the Resurrection proclaimed—when each year we are told again that Jesus Christ has defeated sin and death—we say in response, “So what? If he had, if the Resurrection mattered, I would be different. But I’m not, so therefore it doesn’t matter.”
I have no guarantee that Jackson Holliday will be the savior the Orioles need. The so-called baseball gods govern the game in ways beyond our scrutiny. But the real God who has revealed himself in Christ is the Savior of the world—the faithful and trustworthy Savior we need to raise us from death to new life. The antidote to cynicism is faith, hope, and love. These three gifts are graces of the Holy Spirit, and we should ask for more of them every time we pray and every time we come to Mass and receive Communion. Faith allows us to believe in what we cannot see, to know that God is changing us even through our setbacks and regressions. Hope spurs us on through this valley of tears with its frustrations and disappointments to that eternal place of light and peace. Love moves us outward, making us think less of ourselves and problems and more of others and theirs, which is the foundation for any change within us to take place.
Faith, hope, and love await us in every sacrament we receive, but we must be well-prepared to receive them. The second reason I identified as the cause of my lack of joy is neglect. I do not follow the Orioles as closely as I once did. I used to read the paper over breakfast every morning and on any given day could tell you the standings and who was leading in league averages. I don’t do that anymore. I’d rather do something else with my time than watch the games. I’d rather spend my money on something else than than an $11 beer at the ballpark. I’d rather invest my attention and care into other things, maybe something that won’t break my heart. I want to consider myself a diehard fan, but if I’m honest, I’ve made a number of choices over the years that has made my fandom more and more fair-weather. I have neglected the team I once loved, and the result is a lack of joy at their success and excitement about their future.
In the days since my dear parishioner proclaimed the good news of Jackson Holliday’s call-up, I have made some changes. I’ve started watching the games. I downloaded a sports app to stay on top of news and statistics. I’ve made a decision to follow the team more closely, because this might just be the year they do it.
My brothers and sisters, as we continue to celebrate the good news of the Resurrection, what if we all did the same for the Lord? In baseball and in the Christian life, the principle is the same: you reap what you sow. If we want to reap eternal life, we must hand over our entire life now to Christ. It does not matter what has happened in the past, how cynical we are, or how long we haven’t cared. Christ will not chide us for being fair-weather followers, even if we are fair-weather fans. We will grow in faith, hope, and love and push out our cynicism if we make an intentional choice in favor of Christ because he is faithful and loves those who return to him. Let us choose again today to be his disciples and choose to believe that he desires to raise us to new life.
I’m bound by conscience to point out that God is more important than baseball, but in the end, a good Orioles fan and being a good Christian should have a lot in common: one who is invested in the present and hopeful of the future; one who is not given over to cynicism but is filled with life-giving joy; one who has not written anything off but is open to what is still possible; one who rejoices that God is good and the beer is cold; and one who is brimming with excitement to tell the world the good news in which they believe. Let us be good Christians—and let us also root on the O’s.
Homily preached April 13/14, 2024 at the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen and Saint Thomas Aquinas, Hampden