The Gospel According to Billy Buckner

It was divinely ironic that on the morning of Billy Buckner’s death the topic at my morning meeting was forgiveness. I remember sitting on the couch in my house in New Hampshire in 1986 believing that the Red Sox would soon break the curse and win their first World Series in ages. With victory all but certain, a Mets player hit a nothing ball along the first base line for what would be an easy out, except it went through Buckner’s legs leading not only to the loss of that game but the series itself. I knew at that moment the error would be the only thing most people would ever remember when thinking about Billy Buckner. Regardless of all the great things he did as an athlete, and the kindness he showed as a person, he would always be known for that one mistake. 

He’s not unique, of course. There are many known not for the good they did but the wrong, and we take a certain amount of comfort by casting such people aside, putting them in a box reserved for such people. It helps keep us from this messy thing called life. It makes life appear tidy, with the good people over here and the bad over there. Richard Rohr warns us against such dualistic thinking, the kind where a person, place, belief, political view, or event is either good or bad, black or white, right or wrong. Such thinking is easy. It eliminates the need to face the messiness of life. (No wonder so many are flocking to churches and political pockets that speak in such ways.)

The spiritual life, however, calls us to more difficult thinking. It draws us into the messiness of life, not away from it. It demands we see beyond our divisions so we can discover what we have in common as imperfect children of God. It’s hard, though, which is why we so often don’t want to do it. It’s easier to point a finger than hug. It’s easier to put people, places, and events in tidy mental boxes at either end of an issue than to wrestle with the messiness found in-between. 

“Everyone’s got their shit,” was the slogan of a community I once knew, but only two people wanted the tee shirt, my mother and me. Can you imagine what our houses, churches, schools, and political parties would look and sound like if we lived by such an irreverent slogan? We just might talk about Billy Buckner and the many others who’ve let balls slip through their legs differently. By forgiving what they did wrong, we might be able to see what they did right. Who knows, we might even look at the person in the mirror in a new way!