Does God care about Baseball?

Judging from life among the thorns in the Vale of Tears we call earth, it is at least questionable that God is concerned with the minutiae of individual human lives, or for that matter even with the mega problems that plague whole nations on the globe. During the second world war the belt buckles of German soldiers were etched with the slogan, “Gott mit uns” (God is with us). Of course, the allied troops thought the same thing, because they too believed their cause was just. And this clash of claims for God’s concern and support in the enterprises of our lives naturally raises my question about the minutiae of individual lives. For example, the nation cares about baseball. It is referred to as our “national pastime,” part of the minutiae of our lives. But does God care about baseball, about who wins and loses?

            Are we to suppose that God follows baseball and the individual statistics of each athlete, perhaps has a favorite baseball team, and even decides the outcomes of games? I once saw a pitcher, who, after throwing the winning pitch in a baseball game, made the sign of the cross, kissed his fingers, and pointed upward, thanking God for the win. In American popular religion most of us believe God does get involved in the minutiae of human life, even numbering the hairs on certain human heads and deciding the deaths of sparrows (Matt 10:29-30). But with such a complicated universe to run, surely God has weightier concerns than sparrows, hairs in the drain—and the Cardinals/Royals game. In terms of universal importance, which team wins the pennant seems a rather insignificant event. Other events clearly have a more profound impact on human life than baseball games. True, the outcome of a Cardinals/Royals game is more significant than the number of hairs that showed up in my drain this morning, but totally insignificant when compared to the Israeli/Hamas war and the plight of families in the war zone. Some diehard fans may disagree, but in terms of significant impact on human life baseball games fall completely off the radar screen for everyone, except, perhaps, for those involved in the industry.

            It comforts us to think there is a master plan to life. Believing that life is “scripted” helps us cope with tragedy and loss. Life must make sense, and our individual tragedies must have some meaning in the grand scheme of things—or so we insist. Even the death of a butterfly must have a place in God’s “master plan” for the universe. The alternative—thinking that we live in an “unscripted” and arbitrary universe is a frightening concept. In an arbitrary universe no master plan exists. What happens, just happens! Under those conditions, life’s meaning is what each of us makes of the random events that constitute our lives. I personally do not like that alternative and hope, as everyone else, that affairs in my life are part of some grand benevolent design for the universe. Yet, I am a little dubious when someone tells me God spends time counting the hairs in my drain, marking the demise of individual sparrows, or following the progress of a favorite baseball team. Such micromanaging will not work for CEO’s in large organizations—and the universe, if anything, is large. Effective management gives priority to the more significant. In a global crisis, I don’t want to think of God worrying with minutiae, like the welfare of the one barren tomato plant in my garden. Micromanagement on God’s part may be why we have natural disasters, like floods, earthquakes, and epidemics—because God has taken his eyes off the big picture. Other disasters, like wars, are inevitably the result of human contrivance, although even God is given credit for starting wars in the Bible.¹

            One should not too quickly criticize the divine Administrator of the universe, however, since we have only the barest inkling of what’s involved in running the universe. The universe may be unlimited, and if so, that is a lot of turf to cover, even for God—or so God suggested to Job (Job 38–41) when Job bitterly complained that God had treated him unfairly. If God is weighing the outcomes of ballgames and neglecting the causes of war, he has likely fallen out of touch with what is really happening in the universe—or at least in this small corner of an out-of-the-way galaxy. Surely God can find better things to do with his time than ponder the pennant.²

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

¹See, for example, Numbers 31:1–31, the war God began with the Midianites. Why did God begin the war? See Numbers 25:16–18.

²This essay first appeared sometime before 2006 as an editorial in the Springfield, Missouri Newsleader. It was published later, in 2009 in a collection of essays: Charles W. Hedrick, House of Faith or Enchanted Forest. American Popular Belief in an Age of Reason (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2009), 7-9. It appears here edited, revised, and updated.