easter story!

I was getting dressed Friday morning and was suddenly compelled to YouTube the final scene from ‘The Natural,’ best sports movie ever (hey, good for you baseball), one of the best movies ever, and I realized that it’s pure Easter allegory:

The New York Knights pitcher has lost faith and is throwing the game, bought off by the silver dollars of the corrupt co-owner who can’t stand bright lights and wants the team to lose. And yet the game is close.

Roy Hobbes picks up Wonderboy, the bat carved from the wood of a lightning-struck tree (mystical Christ-child allusions). Wonderboy splits in two — His body, broken for us — on the first pitch. Roy tells Young Bobby of Cyrene, the Bat Boy of Arimathea, to go “pick me out a winner,” and comes back with his own creation, the Savoy Special. (John 14:12: “I tell you the truth, you will do even greater things than these.”) Wilford Brimley looks on, the Nicodemus of the dugout.

Next pitch, another foul. Two strikes. Two days.  If he truly is the greatest, let him step up to the plate and hit a home run. The umpire offers him vinegar wine —Roy, you ok fella, can you go on? Roy turns his head away, back toward the mound. “Let’s play ball.”

Blood issues from his side, pierced with an ancient bullet. It soaks his uniform. The catcher sees it and readies the demon knuckle ball.

Third pitch, the crack, the earthquake, the eyes toward heaven… and with the shattering lights, the falling sparks, the winning run guaranteed, corrupt co-owner cowering in the shadows of the owner’s box, the Magdalene of his youth weeping with joy in the stands, the hands outstretched to hi-five his wounds with belief as he rounds the third day base, defeat loses its sting.

He touches home plate. Ascension.

Goodbye Mr. Spalding, truly this was the Son of God.