In the movie "Field of Dreams," Ray Kinsella obediently follows the direction of a supernatural voice. As a result, he sees positive things happen for the men around him; but he begins to wonder what's in it for him.
After all, Ray's the one that plowed his corn field under, but it was Shoeless Joe Jackson that gets redemption in the form of a return to baseball. Ray's the one that built a lighted baseball field in the middle of nowhere, but it's Dr. Archibald Graham that gets resolution on his question of a lost dream. Ray's the one who put his family's financial future in jeopardy, but it was Terrance Mann who is revitalized by being chosen for a grand adventure.
Ray finally declares, what about me?
I believe there was a reason Ray's need came last. It was only as Ray aided others through their journey that he began to relive his own. As a rebellious teen, Ray became estranged from his father through a series of defiant acts--refusing to play catch and then insulting his dad's hero, Shoeless Joe. He and his father never reconciled. Ray got busy. Then, his father passed and it was too late.
The deep hurt that reigned in the undercurrents of Ray's soul was his need for reconciliation with his father. Sound familiar? All men, at some time and at some level, feel that they have disappointed their father. We may be able to suppress the feeling for a time. But, as we grow older, our experiences teach us that our dad was deeper than we perceived with our young eyes. And, if nothing else, we did not give him the respect he deserved.
The benevolent voice--true to his gracious nature--grants Ray an opportunity for reconciliation. Ray's father appears as a young baseball player on the Kinsella's magical field. Ray recognizes him and joins him in a conversation, introducing him to the daughter-in-law and granddaughter that he never had a chance to meet in life. Before his father leaves, Ray invites him to "have a catch" and the movie ends as they share the symbolic closeness of a game of catch.
Reconciliation. How sweet it would be if we could reconcile with our fathers, if we could redeem all errors and resolve all doubts, and if we could be revitalized with renewed purpose of life.
As a Christian, I know it is possible because I've experienced it. That's what Christ's sacrifice on the cross was about. He reconciled me to my Father in heaven. He redeemed my errors by paying the price for my sin. He resolved all my questions because I know God is truly watching over me in all situations. He revitalized me with an eternal purpose.
Terrance Mann has a great line in "Field of Dreams." When explaining to Ray that people will come from all over to watch baseball games in a corn field and will pay whatever Ray asks for the privilege, Terrance says it's because "it's money they have, but peace that they lack."
It's a great line, but it also represents my breaking point with the author of this story. Baseball will not provide the peace you're hungering for. It will take intervention from a gracious, supernatural being. His name is God the Father, and His "voice" in this world is Jesus Christ.
This is one I hope you truly will live!
Take care till next week.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Finding Home/Go Deep
Although he doesn't realize it at the time, Ray Kinsella in "Field of Dreams" is offered the chance of a lifetime. A supernatural intervener hands Ray an opportunity to not only find home for himself, but to help three other men reach home plate as well.
Each man faces a different demon--a different disappointment that has left him at some level dry and incomplete.
Ray's ultimate need is the most universal of all men; but it is revealed slowly throughout the movie as Ray follows his intervener's urgings and interacts with the men he helps. And the solution does not come till the very end. So, we'll save Ray for last.
Ray's first sojourner is Shoeless Joe Jackson, a former baseball player who was at the top of his game in the early days of professional ball. But he fell from grace when he accepted a bribe to throw a playoff game. Even though his performance was stellar during that game and no one could see evidence that he purposefully threw it, he was still banned from the game for life.
Ghostly and yet physical at the same time, Shoeless shows up to play baseball on Ray's corn field diamond. Mistakenly, Ray believes that Shoeless is the "he" in "build it and he will come."
Shoeless represents the man who--through his own error--has been disqualified from a life pursuit that is at the very core of who he is. Shoeless laments at one point that he would have played the game for free because he loved it so much. Ray's magical diamond somehow makes that possible again--a gracious outpouring of redemption for Shoeless who by all rights (dead and buried) had no chance of reaching his personal home plate.
The next to join Ray's journey is Terence Mann, a once successful writer who has become disillusioned with life. Once, full of fire and aspirations to make the world a better place, he has grown cold in the face of (in his opinion) the continual failure of society to pursue higher ideals. In essence, he hermits himself away from the world, desiring to protect himself from the disappointment he sees rather than engaging the world to make a difference.
Mann's need is revitalization. He craves something to believe in again, something that will make his life rich with excitement. A reason to get up in the morning. An adventure worth his commitment, his energy, his life. Once again, Ray's unseen protagonist gives Mann what he needs and offers him the incredible opportunity to explore what's beyond the corn field and to write about it for others.
The final of Ray's three companions is Dr. Archibald Graham, known as "Moonlight" Graham in his younger years when he pursued the game of baseball in the minor leagues. But "Moonlight" never got a chance at bat in the majors and instead found himself in medical school and living out his life as a small-town doctor.
Although his career as a physician was exemplary, Dr. Graham always wondered what his life would have been like if he had gotten that time at bat in the majors and had made the hit that would have propelled him into a major league career. Once again, Ray's field offers the young "Moonlight" Graham his chance at bat against the major leaguers who would have been his contemporaries back in the day.
It's hard to explain unless you've seen the movie, but circumstances cause "Moonlight" to firmly choose being Dr. Graham so he can save a young girl's life. He makes the choice, knowing that he can never go back, and he does save the little girl. Dr. Graham finally knows that he made the right decision in life and everyone confirms his choice. He was meant to be a doctor. Finally, resolution.
I think all men have unresolved "what if" questions about their lives. Can you imagine gaining final resolution on those questions, knowing for certain that it couldn't have been any better than it turned out to be.
Redemption, revitalization, and resolution are all possible. We'll talk more about that on Friday and about Ray's need--our deepest need--and how there is final restoration.
Each man faces a different demon--a different disappointment that has left him at some level dry and incomplete.
Ray's ultimate need is the most universal of all men; but it is revealed slowly throughout the movie as Ray follows his intervener's urgings and interacts with the men he helps. And the solution does not come till the very end. So, we'll save Ray for last.
Ray's first sojourner is Shoeless Joe Jackson, a former baseball player who was at the top of his game in the early days of professional ball. But he fell from grace when he accepted a bribe to throw a playoff game. Even though his performance was stellar during that game and no one could see evidence that he purposefully threw it, he was still banned from the game for life.
Ghostly and yet physical at the same time, Shoeless shows up to play baseball on Ray's corn field diamond. Mistakenly, Ray believes that Shoeless is the "he" in "build it and he will come."
Shoeless represents the man who--through his own error--has been disqualified from a life pursuit that is at the very core of who he is. Shoeless laments at one point that he would have played the game for free because he loved it so much. Ray's magical diamond somehow makes that possible again--a gracious outpouring of redemption for Shoeless who by all rights (dead and buried) had no chance of reaching his personal home plate.
The next to join Ray's journey is Terence Mann, a once successful writer who has become disillusioned with life. Once, full of fire and aspirations to make the world a better place, he has grown cold in the face of (in his opinion) the continual failure of society to pursue higher ideals. In essence, he hermits himself away from the world, desiring to protect himself from the disappointment he sees rather than engaging the world to make a difference.
Mann's need is revitalization. He craves something to believe in again, something that will make his life rich with excitement. A reason to get up in the morning. An adventure worth his commitment, his energy, his life. Once again, Ray's unseen protagonist gives Mann what he needs and offers him the incredible opportunity to explore what's beyond the corn field and to write about it for others.
The final of Ray's three companions is Dr. Archibald Graham, known as "Moonlight" Graham in his younger years when he pursued the game of baseball in the minor leagues. But "Moonlight" never got a chance at bat in the majors and instead found himself in medical school and living out his life as a small-town doctor.
Although his career as a physician was exemplary, Dr. Graham always wondered what his life would have been like if he had gotten that time at bat in the majors and had made the hit that would have propelled him into a major league career. Once again, Ray's field offers the young "Moonlight" Graham his chance at bat against the major leaguers who would have been his contemporaries back in the day.
It's hard to explain unless you've seen the movie, but circumstances cause "Moonlight" to firmly choose being Dr. Graham so he can save a young girl's life. He makes the choice, knowing that he can never go back, and he does save the little girl. Dr. Graham finally knows that he made the right decision in life and everyone confirms his choice. He was meant to be a doctor. Finally, resolution.
I think all men have unresolved "what if" questions about their lives. Can you imagine gaining final resolution on those questions, knowing for certain that it couldn't have been any better than it turned out to be.
Redemption, revitalization, and resolution are all possible. We'll talk more about that on Friday and about Ray's need--our deepest need--and how there is final restoration.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Finding Home/Think About It
I found myself watching "Field of Dreams" the other night. I say "found myself" because it wasn't something I had planned. I've watched the movie at least four times through completely and then portions of it umpteen other times. I didn't intend to spend my evening revisiting something that is so familiar.
However, I got started and found myself caught up once again in this fantasy. There's something about it that speaks to my soul. I believe it speaks to the soul of every man--a guy's movie without the blood and guts. If you'll indulge me, I'll tell you why.
If you're not sure which movie I'm talking about, here's a brief reminder: Kevin Cosner plays a sixties survivor turned farmer who seemingly loses his mind. Hearing a supernatural voice that urges him to "build it and he will come," Ray proceeds to plow under his promising corn crop and constructs a baseball field in its place putting his family's financial welfare in jeopardy as he pursues an intangible answer to a gnawing need.
Cosner's character, Ray Kinsella, is joined in this journey by three other men (two deceased and one alive but reticent to believe Ray's story) who are also seeking what they can't attain for themselves--redemption, revitalization, resolution, and restoration.
In short, they are all seeking home. And by "home" I don't mean that place where we park the car at night, throw our dirty socks on the floor, and settle into our easy chair to watch TV. I'm talking about home plate.
Deep down, I believe it's every man's desire to score in life. But life isn't always accommodating. Somewhere between the at-bat circle and home plate, aspirations are dashed by roadblocks and errors that trip us up, slow us down, divert us, delay us, or take us off course and disqualify us for the game altogether.
When that deep disappointment happens, where do we look for answers? Think about it and we'll explore each man's need Wednesday.
However, I got started and found myself caught up once again in this fantasy. There's something about it that speaks to my soul. I believe it speaks to the soul of every man--a guy's movie without the blood and guts. If you'll indulge me, I'll tell you why.
If you're not sure which movie I'm talking about, here's a brief reminder: Kevin Cosner plays a sixties survivor turned farmer who seemingly loses his mind. Hearing a supernatural voice that urges him to "build it and he will come," Ray proceeds to plow under his promising corn crop and constructs a baseball field in its place putting his family's financial welfare in jeopardy as he pursues an intangible answer to a gnawing need.
Cosner's character, Ray Kinsella, is joined in this journey by three other men (two deceased and one alive but reticent to believe Ray's story) who are also seeking what they can't attain for themselves--redemption, revitalization, resolution, and restoration.
In short, they are all seeking home. And by "home" I don't mean that place where we park the car at night, throw our dirty socks on the floor, and settle into our easy chair to watch TV. I'm talking about home plate.
Deep down, I believe it's every man's desire to score in life. But life isn't always accommodating. Somewhere between the at-bat circle and home plate, aspirations are dashed by roadblocks and errors that trip us up, slow us down, divert us, delay us, or take us off course and disqualify us for the game altogether.
When that deep disappointment happens, where do we look for answers? Think about it and we'll explore each man's need Wednesday.
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