My mom was a die-hard fan.  And a woman of great faith.  Rooting for the Atlanta Braves in the Seventies demanded both.   Chief Nocahoma rarely roused from his tent.   Good students earned tickets to Braves’ games.   You could buy ‘knot-hole’ seats in the dizzying heights of Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium for a twenty-five cents.  The exploits of Hammerin’ Hank Aaron were the only bright spots.   My mother would listen to Pete Van Wieren and Skip Caray call all the games on her transistor radio before Ted Turner and the SuperStation made the Braves ‘America’s Team.’ 

Emma Lou Wheeler was a true fan.  She understood all the subtleties.  All the complicated dynamics.  And yes, all the rules.  Even the ground rules.   I was probably the only of my friends who learned about baseball from his mother.  But all that secret knowledge went out the door when Don, Alan, Norman, and I along with whatever available neighborhood girls would hit ‘The Circle’ (our cul-de-sac) for 3-on-3 sandlot baseball. 

Our games were more ground-rules than anything.   Hitting Mr. Bradley’s Bronco was an automatic out.   Hitting rooftops between the telephone poles constituting our foul poles were ground-rule homeruns.   Balls driven into the oak grove between our house and the Boyd’s were considered doubles.   Bean-balls for baserunners constituted an ‘out.’   And we took turns spelunking into ‘the drain’ to retrieve wild pitches.   Any questionable play not defined in our evolving canon of ground-rules was determined by the mother of all sandlot procedures – ‘the do-over.’

After a few moments of healthy dissent and debate over where the ball actually disappeared and whether there was an applicable ground-rule some irenic soul would invoke in a loud-voice, ‘do-over!’  Baserunners were reset.  The pitch count, when we actually used it, was restored.  And all that had happened, including any hard feelings over the rectitude of the call, was set aside, annulled, wiped from the record.  And play resumed without prejudice.  In the absence of umpires or a level and unobstructed playing field, baseball becomes a game of second chances, of ‘do-overs.’

Life needs second chances as well.  The desire for redemption is an instinct planted deeply in our fallen nature. We are always seeking what was lost.  And we often hear that God is a God of second chances.  So, we think of his mercy as simply a divine do-over, a reset and restart in making better life choices.  But God’s mercy and forgiveness are not ‘do-overs.’ Or simply second chances.  Redemption means much more.  It is costly.  And transformational.  It changes more than the outcome of a decision.  It is a death and rebirth.  Hardly a ‘do-over.’

After the Golden Calf, Moses pleads for the redemption of the people.  Their sin is so shocking that he shatters the Tablets of the Testimony.  But God is not finished with his people.  His plan to redeem them is unchanged. He instructs Moses to chisel out two new tablets and to come back to the summit of Sinai to hear good news.  

The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin but who will by no means clear the guilty.

Exodus 34:6-7

This passage is often called the Gospel of the Old Testament.  Here we see the covenant love of a holy God for an unholy people.  But the last phrase is significant.  Unlike a second chance or a do-over, God’s mercy comes at a price.  Someone must pay.  Isaiah would later write of the Messiah, Jesus.

But he was pierced for our transgressions;
    he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
    and with his wounds we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
    we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
    the iniquity of us all.

Isaiah 53:5-6

And Paul made this more explicit.

For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. This was to show God’s righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins. It was to show his righteousness at the present time, so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus. 

Romans 3:23-26

God is much more than a God of second chances.  And our regeneration is no mere do-over.  Join us as we examine Exodus 34 and consider ‘the how, the what, and the why’ of redemption.   We meet on the square in Pottsville, right next to historic Potts’ Inn at 10:30 am for worship. Get directions here or contact us for more info.  Or join us on Facebook Live @PottsvilleARP or YouTube.