On Vocation, or Why I Love Football

"Vocation is the place where our deep gladness meets the world's deep need." - Frederick Buechner

I happened to be watching football yesterday afternoon, and I thought I would try to describe what it is about football that speaks to my soul.

I know that sounds a bit extreme, but I was lying awake last night, my brain going round and round in circles from one topic to the next. It finally landed on football, and I fell asleep dreaming of perfect passes, epic runs, and beautifully choreographed plays. I could just see Peyton Manning's perfectly executed pass floating into the arms of Demaryius Thomas in the corner of the end zone right over the head of his defender. I could see Dexter McCluster running back a punt for an 89-yard touchdown like he was out for a jog in the park, completely oblivious to the Giants players falling down around him. I could see the offensive line for both the Chiefs and the Broncos working in sync to protect their quarterbacks, letting them focus on the field opening up ahead of them instead of on the linemen trying to take them down.

It's not just football, though.

Can you see it too?

In my mind's eye, I can see the frisbee float through the air right into the arms of the intended receiver, the defender helpless to prevent a goal. I can feel the moment when I see a play about to happen and reach out for an interception just as the passer lets go of the frisbee.

I can hear the band from chapel as the piano notes soar over the rhythmic foundation laid by the congas and guitars, accenting the perfect harmony of the vocalists.

I can hear the words and phrases of Barbara Kingsolver's most recent book, Flight Behavior, as she so perfectly described the sense of isolation and entrapment felt by stay-at-home-moms, the endless worries about money on the minds of the working poor, the dismal state of our planet after years and decades of abuse, and the hopelessness of bridging the gap between scientists and politicians, college grads and blue collar workers, and rural and urban dwellers.

Over and over, I relive those miraculous moments when the universe seems to align for something magical to happen. Whether it is the carefully practiced connection between an NFL quarterback and his receiver, the split second defensive reaction to intercept a frisbee, the unity of a band whose members have only just met making a song come alive, or the precision of a gifted author describing another person's world, I replay them until my mind is at peace.

Those moments are Frederick Buechner's definition of vocation.

I'm really enjoying the work I've been able to do helping authors birth their books. I'm enjoying writing sermon discussion questions, helping small group leaders translate a one-time Sunday morning sermon to a lifetime of change. I hope that I can do these jobs with the same grace and focus as Dexter McCluster when he runs from one end of the field to the other like it's no big thing, barely giving the defense a moment's glance. I hope that I can fulfill my own vocation with as much dedication as a quarterback and receiver practicing the same pass over and over ad nauseam so that at the decisive moment, the completion looks effortless.

More than my own work, though, I give thanks to God for the ongoing invitation to participate in creating a world where magic happens. Where sometimes our work is tedious and difficult, but sometimes it is electric and inspiring. Where our deep gifts occasionally meet the world's deep need.

I did manage to give birth to this kid. That was pretty epic.