And that about wraps it up. God is strong, and he wants you strong. So take everything the Master has set out for you, well-made weapons of the best materials. And put them to use so you will be able to stand up to everything the Devil throws your way. This is no afternoon athletic contest that we’ll walk away from and forget about in a couple of hours. This is for keeps, a life-or-death fight to the finish against the Devil and all his angels. [Ephesians 6:10-12 (MSG)]
Several weeks ago, there was a story on the morning news about a youth hockey camp. When the sportscaster mentioned having a “holy goalie” in attendance, I stopped to listen. As it turns out, this was not a typical athletic camp but a faith-based one—one that combined sports and God. The aforementioned holy goalie was a Catholic bishop from downstate who loves hockey almost as much as he does Jesus!
Even the best goalie can’t make a save all of the time. Top hockey goalies Martin Brodeur, with 691 wins, and Patrick Roy, with 551 wins, manage to make saves only a little more than 90% of the time. Considering the age and vocation of the “holy goalie,” I doubt that his percentage of saves is anywhere that good. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a real Holy Goalie—someone who could keep the opposition—the enemy—from defeating us? We do, in fact, have a Holy Goalie and He has more defense moves than the priest, Brodeur and Roy combined. Our Holy Goalie isn’t an all-star athlete or even a presiding bishop; He is the Holy Spirit.
Of course, much of a goalie’s success or failure in stopping opposing goals has to do with his team and whether or not the players have played a good defensive game. Even with a truly Holy Goalie, like any good team, we must do our part. Before facing the opponents, hockey players suit up in a host of protective gear: shin guards, elbow pads, heavily cushioned hockey pants, shoulder pads and chest protector, protective gloves, “jock,” helmet, neck guard, mouth guard, and maybe even a face mask. Hockey is fast-moving, intense, rough and sometimes brutal; then again, so is life. We may not get body checked into the boards but circumstances can knock us down just as easily and the enemy can leave us just as bloody as a puck to the nose. Rather than padded clothing, when we suit up for the game of life, we must put on the armor of God to be protected by His truth, righteousness, peace, salvation, faith and word. In hockey, players can change “on the fly” but no one steps in for us in real life. We’ve got to keep going, playing our best, until the whistle blows. That’s where our Holy Goalie differs from a mortal one. He doesn’t just defend us when the enemy gets close to the goal; He acts as cheering section, general manager, coach, trainer, and team physician. Our Holy Goalie, like hockey’s referees and linesmen, also tells us when we’ve crossed the line, violated any rules or been guilty of unChristianlike conduct. While we have no need for a Zamboni driver, the Holy Goalie’s guidance can smooth the way for us better than any Zamboni. Thank you, God, for our Holy Goalie—your Holy Spirit!
Breath in me, O Holy Spirit, that my thoughts may all be holy. Act in me, O Holy Spirit, that my work, too, may be holy. Draw my heart, O Holy Spirit, that I love but what is holy. Strengthen me, O Holy Spirit, to defend all that is holy. Guard me, then, O Holy Spirit, that I always may be holy. [St. Augustine]
His cautionary words to the disciples are difficult to understand. How can Jesus, who told us to love our enemies and do good to them, tell us to hate our families? Do we have to despise our relatives if we want to be his disciples? Fortunately, after getting the disciples’ attention with that unusual statement, Jesus followed with a parable about a man who undertook a project without counting the cost and then couldn’t finish what he began. Hating our family is just a hyperbole; it’s a way of saying that anyone who follows Christ must love Him more than anything else. Christ is to be first and foremost in our hearts and minds. In comparison to our love for Jesus, we are to love them less (or “hate” them). To be His disciple, Jesus demands total commitment; we must be willing to give up everything for Him, even if that means the things and people we love. Sadly, when we choose Christ over loved ones, they might perceive our love of Jesus as a betrayal and may even hate us for that choice.
The damage done by Hurricane Harvey seemed unbelievable until Irma hammered the entire state of Florida. Fortunately, our Florida home was prepared and we were safely situated in the Midwest during Irma’s tirade. Would that all the storms of life announced themselves a week in advance to give us time to put up storm shutters and evacuate to safety.
Our recent trip to the Canadian Rockies reminded me of a hiking trip I took there with my daughter more than twenty years ago. With two guides for our group, one acted as lead and tied orange ribbons along the trail to mark the way. Knowing that we are to leave nothing in the forest but footprints, a second guide (the sweep) followed the last hiker and removed the trail markers. That morning’s hike was a trek up to a mountainside teahouse and my daughter and I (both fast walkers) wanted to have time at the top to explore. Confident we couldn’t get lost, we shot ahead of the guide, promising to meet at the teahouse. Apparently, there was a fork in the trail we missed in our haste; we veered left when we should have stayed right. After a while, it occurred to us that we seemed to be going down when the trail should be going up. Nevertheless, expecting an uphill just around the next turn and unwilling to admit we may have erred, we continued down. When we arrived at the same lake from which we’d started, we saw the error of our ways, turned around, and made the hike back uphill. By the time we reached the main trail, the trail markers placed by the lead guide had already been removed by the sweep. Knowing we needed to go further uphill, we continued our trek and eventually rejoined our group at the teahouse. In our case, the first really were the last and we barely had enough time to eat lunch before starting back down the mountain.
It rained last night. During our early morning walk, we looked out over the prairie and saw hundreds of sparkling spider webs. As the morning sun caught the water droplets on the silk, the master weavers’ work glistened in the mist. Although we take that trail several times a week, it was the first time this season we saw those arachnidan works of art. The spiders didn’t start spinning just the previous night; their webs have been there all summer but weather and light conditions kept us from seeing them. In fact, had we chosen to walk the loop in the other direction, we never would have seen them at all!
Devotions of the Heart 