You can depend on this as worthy of full acceptance:
                     that Christ came into the world to save sinners —1 Tim 3
 

The Name of the Game

We did not expect the “Bourbon Festival” in our Bardstown, KY to close down in view of the national tragedy.* After all, it is a rather silly affair, of no great depth. Even so, it might have made a gesture.

On the other hand, big-time sport is another matter wholly. And very serious. Very deep. So we were much moved, though also surprised, into a better grasp of the impact of the scene on the east coast, when games were canceled nation-wide, professional and collegiate.

When evil on a gross level enters our lives, we are shaken, terrified, at a loss. Games, after all, competitive sport, are contest. And the contest is the acting out in a harmless way of the inner contest we are all engaged in, the contest of good and evil. There is good in us and there is evil in us. This is given. And the good life is the pursuit of good and the rejection of evil. A game acts it out, and big-time games do so in an impressive way, a spectacular way: before our eyes a contest is played out. And the acting out helps us to understand better what we are about, even if not on a conscious level. This is why sport is so attractive, has such vast numbers of spectators, is involved with actors, players, who are highly skilled, often superbly recompensed. All done in a magnificent context. This is serious business.

And it is so regardless of the conscious awareness of what is going on. After all, we are deep people. Not to know it does not change anything.

We are disturbed when games end in violence, when hooligans turn rugby into physical, violent encounters. And so play is ruined, game becomes travesty. This is a sort of lay sacrilege.

So much the worse when real evil erupts on our world in a very vicious, powerful way. We are taken aback. Deliberate evil at work, and effectively, disturbs us enormously. To be sure, none of us is immune to evil: we are all aware of its potential within us. To see the struggle carried out by way of a game is one thing, however real it be in impact; to see actual evil is something else. Hence the need for a pause. For a moment to reflect.

As Christians we move in the sacrifice of the altar beyond the world of play, of game, of contest, into the real world of actual conflict of good and evil on the Cross, when humankind reached the depths of iniquity and put the Son of God to death. And this continues through time on the human scene: the immolation of Christ is atonement, mercy, healing. Not a guilt trip, therefore, but an admission of sin, an act of sorrow, the reception of pardon and peace, and the healing encounter with Christ is communion. And this is the answer to the trend to violence in ourselves, in others.

And so, violence met with violence is not healing, but vindictive. And wounds ourselves the while, does not heal the guilty. We would do well to pray for mercy. For the afflicting and the afflicted. We would do well to pray for mercy, for pity, pardon, and peace in Jesus.  Amen.

* Note: This homily was delivered on September 16, 2001, the Sunday following the terrorist attack on the New York World Trade Center and the Pentagon in Washington.