Airball

Last night I went to a basketball game. Because Phil is a youth pastor, we sat in the student section (I should say stood, they stand the whole game, which I am too old for). They stand the whole game, and they cheer (I should say mostly cheer, but sometimes it’s more like taunting). And I love it because I love just watching them have fun with their friends and be kids.

I mentioned that there is some taunting going on there. This, of course, is directed at the other team. So, number eleven, he’s a guard for the other team, and way in the beginning of the game he shot and totally missed. So every time this kid gets the ball for the next two quarters (which was a lot) the whole student section from our team chants, “AIRBALL! AIRBALL!” rhythmically. Doesn’t matter if he makes it or not after that, “AIRBALL! AIRBALL! AIRBALL!” They shout his failure out like it’s his name.

It got me thinking about the description of love in 1 Corinthians, which really, is a description of God and how to be like him. Specifically I was thinking of, “Love keeps no record of wrongs.” In The Message paraphrase it actual says, “Love does not keep score.”

Sometimes I feel like if God really knows everything, then he’s seen a lot of my bad shots. Surely he never forgets it either. And this cosmic voice is just yelling throughout the universe: AIRBALL! AIRBALL! No matter what I do. And if I could just play really well for the next half…maybe he would be able to overlook it. Let it go. Maybe I could prove myself worthy of something. Or maybe I should just sit it out because, well, I did totally miss, and it’s not like it’s wrong to call me a failure. I am.

What freedom to actually get our heads around this: Love (God) does not keep score. That voice yelling out our failure is not His. He is patient. Kind. He’s not proud or boastful or out for Himself. He always protects. Always hopes. He always perseveres. He never ever fails. And that kind of God, that kind of love is in our corner. Always for us. The only thing off his lips is the victory that’s already been won for us as we continue in our process toward it. He always has the pompoms poised.