ECCLESIOLOGICAL ETCHINGS
January 4, 2023
Whether you are a football person or not, you probably know of Damar Hamlin, the defensive safety for the Buffalo Bills. He collapsed after a rather routine tackle during Monday Night Football. Though I had been watching the game, I flipped away to watch something else for about 30 minutes. I returned to the game about the time the ambulance was leaving the field. At first, I figured it was a bad situation, though I did not imagine cardiac arrest. At the time, no one knew exactly what had occurred, but I could immediately tell something was different by the tone of the announcers, the team gathered in prayer, and the faces of staff, players and fans. For the next hour, I watched broadcasters and pundits attempt to explain or give context to what had occurred. Many of them were clearly untrained in how to speak and act in a crisis, yet I was rather pleased with what many of them said. There was plenty of stammering, a few odd theological assertions, and one very bizarre declaration. With that said, I felt real honesty for the moment; vulnerability that was not on a teleprompter; heartfelt concern for Damar and his family.
You never know exactly how you’re going to respond in a situation if you have never been in that situation. You can go through training, including roleplaying and simulations, but you can never replicate the emotion. I see this so often in life—situations of unexpected tragedy or grief. In such moments, a mix of faith, honesty and vulnerability can be a pretty good starting place.
We all want answers, as we did watching Monday Night Football, but answers were not going to come. So instead, it is not about offering grand religious statements or pontificating on what such moments mean. Instead, it is speaking from the heart and not being afraid of silence. In the world of Live TV, there is nothing more frightening than silence. Though rather short, there were a few moments when a sports commentator just paused and allowed images to speak.
I’m not too sure what the point of my rambling is, except to applaud folks who were suddenly thrust into a world of which they knew very little. They handled themselves pretty well as they acknowledged the unknown and uncertainty of the moment. I sure will be praying for Damar Hamlin, his family, and his teammates. The emotional trauma is widespread, and each person involved must pause and give space for the shock and fear caused by that moment. It was good to see tears, hugs and prayers. This was a good moment to rise above the nonsense of hypermasculinity and be human.
I know you were present for all who were hurting and fearful because of their friend and teammate the other night. O God, you are the One who continually finds ways of breaking in unexpectedly—even through the untrained and unprepared. A witness of grace and concern can be profoundly expressed even with a bit of awkward silence, followed by some off-the-cuff honesty. Thanks for being who you are and working through those of us who are not always perfect or prepared. Amen.
