"Victory is more than a score."
Last week I stood well back on the receiving line of the tennis court and waited for the first serve with anticipation and a good deal of confidence. "This time," I told myself, "I'm going to keep my eye on the ball from the moment it's in the air until it touches the strings of my well-poised racket! And then, as every tennis pro has told me for the past ten years, I'll be able to return that ball for a sure winner."
Up went the ball, down came my opponent's racket, a perfect serve. I watched that ball like a hawk as it passed over the net...and then it happened. Without a thought, my eyes looked away for just a moment and into my opponent's court. The ball hit my racket about an inch from my hand and my "perfect return" dribbled into the net. "15/Love," shouted my opponent and once again I experienced the frustration of not doing that which I would like most to do--keeping my eye on the ball.
This morning I want to share with you a sermon I have been working on for the past five years, entitled simply:
The Theology of Tennis
Keeping Your Eye on the Ball
It sums up much of what I have learned about myself, about humanity, and indeed, about God's creation; for tennis, like all games of sport, illustrates some great truths about how it is in life. What happens on the court often mirrors what happens off the court. So let's begin with this autobiographical survey of what I've learned from the game of tennis.
1) First, I've learned that tennis, and indeed all sports, is a wonderful place to learn to follow the rules:
A game is not a game without a set of clear rules which all must follow. Indeed, rules give us an enormous amount of freedom to play the game fairly, to compete and feel like we have accomplished something. For example, tennis has some clear boundaries by which we must play the game. There are lines within which we must keep the ball. There is a net over which the ball must pass. And there is a scoring system which very fairly keeps track of how we are doing.
When we keep to the rules, the game goes well and is almost always a rewarding experience--whether we win or lose. But when one side breaks or bends the rules, tennis is no longer a game, but a frustrating experience.
And so it is in life. Whether at national, community, or family level, when everyone keeps the agreed-upon rules, life flows easily. But when individuals or groups flaunt common boundaries, society and community quickly break down. Usually, people break rules thinking that they can become free from restraints--free to do what they want to do. But sports people have learned that it doesn't work that way. Clearly agreed-upon rules, whether tennis or the Ten Commandments, always provide us with true freedom to act fairly and live happily in society with known and safe boundaries.
2) The second thing I've learned on the courts of tennis has to do with the grace of calling close balls. All too often, a ball lands very close to the boundary line and it is my duty to call the opponent's shot in or out. When I am behind a couple of points, or even worse, a couple of games, it is so tempting to call it out, especially when I really need that point.
But tennis has taught me something about graciousness in life, and that is, when I call a close ball in, giving my opponent the benefit of the doubt, two things happen: I feel good about myself, and inevitably my opponent responds in like manner, giving me the point on his "close calls."
And so it is in life. A sure sign of spiritual and emotional maturity is the learned ability to give our neighbor or family member--or even another nation--the benefit of the doubt. Graciousness is listening carefully to another point of view. Grace allows for the possibility, "I may be wrong." Grace is loving another person without the need to judge or receive a reward in return. Grace is effortless in execution; it is good will; it is mercy; it is a Godly way of living; and, thank God, it is a virtue which can be acquired and practiced on the courts of life.
3) Another thing I've learned on the tennis courts is that when I get behind in a game Love/40, or when I am down two or three games in a set, I have a tendency to give in and lose heart. I then lose the game or set in my mind before I lose it on the court.
But I am slowly discovering it doesn't have to be that way. As baseball philosopher Yogi Berra said, "It ain't over 'til it's over." One wise tutor said to me, "Every point is a new opportunity, so play each point as if it is a new game. Forget about the past. Those three points you are down have nothing to do with the next point. Don't let past failures determine your future play. Stay focused on the present."
Those of you in Twelve-Step Programs, conquering addictions, know all about this, about living every day (and, if necessary, every hour) one day at a time. Each day becomes a new and fresh start. You don't have to let your past failures determine your future actions.
This is true for our spiritual lives as well. Our past sins do not have to determine our future lives. One of the great gifts of God, given freely to us through Jesus Christ, is the graceful and unmerited gift of forgiveness. When we get down in the game of life and feel like we are losing some great battle against sinful behavior, there is always a fresh start available.
For when we turn to God, we receive his complete absolution and forgiveness. The slate of our life is clean. We begin that very moment a whole new game. The past is over; the future is bright and God says, Play ball!
4) Number four on any list is a short "Andy Rooney"-like comment: Isn't it funny how you can win one set Six/Love and then turn right around and lose the next set Love/Six!
5) I've also learned a lot on the tennis courts about the true art of winning and losing in life. Like all sports, tennis is based upon competition--testing my skills and endurance against another person's skill. It is also, like golf, an internal competition where I try to play a little better each time I am on the court. Competition is a healthy part of God's creation. Apostle Paul often uses the analogy of running the race in life and finishing with a crown of glory.
But competition is a two-edged sword. It can bring out the best in me and it can bring out the worst. I've learned, for example, that lopsided wins are not much fun (whether I'm the winner or loser). This is true in most games. It doesn't always take a royal flush to win a poker game. More often than not, a pair of deuces takes it. And that's true in life as well.
One of the routine courtesies of tennis is the ritual of shaking hands, both before and after a match. What a wonderful reminder that "it's only a game!" And therein is the secret of healthy competition on the court and in our life. It's only a game.
I remember during one particularly heated set of doubles, I was getting a bit carried away and overly-competitive. At one point, as we were switching sides in that close set, my wise partner grabbed me by the arm and said one of the most astonishing statements I'd heard: "Relax, Brad, and remember, we are responsible for our opponents' enjoyment of this game."
I was stunned. I repented. And I learned a lot about competition that morning. Here in a simple sentence was the basis of what community life is all about. We are in this life together and so we are responsible to each other and for each other. No one gets to play the game alone--at least not for long.
What I learned that day is that winning or losing is only a small part of the overall enjoyment of tennis (and, indeed, life). Victory is more than a score. I have walked off the courts having lost three sets and felt like a winner...because I succeeded in sharing a wonderful time with friends.
And I have walked off the courts after winning three sets and felt like a loser...because I paid attention to my own competitive needs and not to the enjoyment of the game, or the people I was playing with.
What counts, the Apostle Paul tells us, is striving for excellence within ourselves and with the community of players. Then it doesn't matter whether we win or lose. For true victory on the court is found in playing hard, playing graciously and looking out for the needs of all who are there.
Finally, I have learned to relate my personal struggle with trying to "keep my eye on the ball" with Apostle Paul's personal struggle of trying to do the right thing. As he puts it so well:
"I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do." (Rom. 7)
But, thank God, that's not the last word. And although I continue to lose sight of the ball on the tennis courts, I do have a way of keeping my eye on God. For as Paul put it so well, "Thanks be to God. It is Jesus Christ who set me free from my struggle." With the grace and love of Jesus Christ in our lives, we will never lose sight of God. Amen.
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