There was a big part of me that turned the TV off disappointed last night. Somehow a little hollow, empty, unfulfilled.
You see, the Patriots were supposed to win. We were all supposed to witness history. For a life long football fan, it was a once in a lifetime greatness, that was to be complete in Arizona at the Super Bowl. We’d all been counting it down for weeks. And here it was.
But something really interesting happened, and as the evening wore into the night, and the night into morning it began to come into focus for me more clearly.
One team had it all… another only seemed to have each other.
One team felt a sense of entitlement. another just wanted to win.
One team had all the commercials, the press, the hype. Another lost six games.. but never gave up.
One team was bloated with pride, and another was hungry for an opportunity to shine.
And the more I thought about it, and considered everything, the more I realized that I hadn’t been robbed of anything historic, or beautiful… that the history and beauty were magnified by what the New York Giants were able to accomplish.
And then I saw the parallel and understood why it was coming so much more clearly into focus. It is written throughout the Scripture that God opposes the proud, and gives grace to the humble. And as the image of Bill Belichick gruffly running off the field early, and Plaxico Burress crying and thanking God went through my mind, I saw that picture in this game and it was beautiful…
I don’t mean to say that God wanted the Giants to win. I only mean to say that the way the game played out touched my heart on a level that reminded me that God wants a soft heart, not a prideful, conceited, boastful heart. I think it’s very possible that the Patriots were defeated, not only by the Giants, but by buying into the hype that they couldn’t be beaten and that they were entitled to their status as the greatest team ever. After the loss, you could see the shock, and bewilderment.. almost like they didn’t realize it was happening. It was almost like they were waiting for another chance. The referee adding a couple of minutes, or calling a do-over and allowing them to play the game again. I could feel it too, sitting on my couch. It was really kind of troubling.
Then finally, I figured out what it was that troubled me so much about watching that moment… it was judgment day.
I pray that those of us who are living in the pride of our own talents, our own desires, our own drives, loving the works of our hands more than the One who gave our hands to us and feeling entitled to the successes that this world has to offer don’t one day have a Super Bowl 42 moment… that moment when all the things you did, all the money you made, all the great things that were said about you and all the useless stuff you accumulated all melt away. And then you realize that the chips are down, and you have missed something very, very vital… but now the clock reads zeroes, and you’re staring, like a deer in the headlights, into darkness. And you don’t get to play the game again.
Please God.. let this happen to nobody that reads my blog and calls me a friend…
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