Sunday, June 21, 2015

Storms in Charleston and our world: Peace, be still, be calm

Emmaneul AME Church,
Charleston, S.C.
I preached today about the horrific events in Charleston, South Carolina, and the many storms in our world.The gospel for today is Mark 4:35-41.

I also talked about General Convention this morning -- we are headed to Salt Lake City today. Here is my sermon from this morning:

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See now is the acceptable time;
See now is the day of our salvation.
Amen.

         Jesus and his followers camped along the shore of the Sea of Galilee. They had been there for days and it was hot and intense.
He told many parables about seeds and small things that grew to big things, and how they should let their lights shine that others may see, and how to listen and see the presence of God all around them and within them.
He told them over and over, you are loved by God, you are the beloved; and you must love others as God loves you.
Crowds had gathered to listen.
         The crowds had never heard or experienced anything quite like this. They wanted more.
But evening was at hand, and Jesus was wrung out. Even the Son of God needs sleep. So he and his followers got in a boat and began to sail across the lake to look for a quiet place away from the crowds.
As they rowed, the wind rose and sea became rough. Before long they were in a terrible gale.
         And somehow Jesus fell asleep in the back of the boat.
         His followers woke him up – do you not care our boat is about to be swamped and we might drown? Geez, Jesus, do something!
         Peace. Be still. Be calm.
         And so the wind ceased and the sea became like glass.
         Then Jesus spoke: Why are you so afraid? All will be well, even in the storms. Have a little a faith that God will bring you through.
         So it is that this story itself can be heard as a parable about the storms of life.
Peace. Be still, be calm, have a little faith.
You will get to the other side.
This past week, we’ve been reminded once again that our world and our nation are in the midst of many storms.
Terrible conflicts rage in the Middle East, Central Asia and Africa.
The number of refugees in the world is as high as it was after World War II: 60 million people fleeing wars and famines, half of them children. The number of refugees swells by 45,000 a week – about the same number of people who live in the city of Charlottesville.
Closer to home this past week, we’ve seen yet another massacre at the hands of a deranged gunman.
This is time it was in a church in Charleston, South Carolina, at the Emmanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church – the oldest African American church in the South.
As you know by now, nine precious people in a Bible study group, including the pastor, were murdered.
Words are not enough this week. Words are just not enough.
The mental health of the perpetrator and the easy availability of guns are certainly at issue.
But to talk only about mental illness and guns is to avoid the elephant in the room of our collective national soul: The legacy we still carry from slavery, segregation and racism.
The gunman was motivated by white supremacy, and news reports say he wanted to unleash a race war. His targeting of a black church was not a random act of violence. This young man did not grow up in a vacuum. He learned his racial hatred somewhere – and from someone.
Like it or not, we are in this storm together as a nation and there is no escape.
 Jesus, aren’t you afraid we are perishing?
Peace. Be still, be calm, have a little faith.
You will get to the other side.
There are other forces at work, not just forces of hatred. Even now, there are people who are surrounding hate with love and forcing it to surrender.
         This parish has its own legacy of hope and courage in the storms. Decades ago, this parish took a stand against segregation when it was hardest to do.
In the many years since, the people in this parish have worked in the community to bring racial reconciliation and hope and healing.
This parish surrounds hate with love and forces it to surrender.
Many of you attended a prayer vigil the other night at Mount Zion First African Baptist Church across town, an African American church which this parish has had a long relationship with.
 This parish knows how to stand up when it counts. This is one of those times.
 And, sometimes, we need be reminded that we are a part of something larger than this single parish. This is one of those times.
We part of the Episcopal Church, which is a part of the Anglican Communion. But we are part of something even larger than that.
We are a part of the Body of Christ – the church universal for all time and in all places, and that means the church in Charleston is our church.
The tears of Charleston are the tears of Jesus. We cannot be disciples of Christ without sharing his tears – and knowing in the same boat with our brothers and sisters in Charleston.
Yes, we are on stormy seas.
Peace. Be still, be calm. Have a little faith.
Amidst the storms we’ve also seen something else this week. We’ve seen signs of hope. In a Charleston courtroom, we heard an outpouring of forgiveness from the families of those who were murdered. Can we do less as faithful people?
A half-world away, we heard a pope this week give voice to the collective outcry of the planet that is endangered by climate change.
And within our own Episcopal Church, we’ve heard our bishops pledge to engage more fully with the issues of racism, poverty and justice.
To give one example, Bishop Jim Mathes of San Diego, who is a friend of mine, said this: “The next time we recite our baptismal covenant and say the words, ‘to respect the dignity of every human being,’ race relations and reconciliation are what we should be thinking about.”
Our diocese in Virginia recently began a dialogue on race.
This dialogue has been hard starting. It has felt as though there is an underlying fear about the demons that might be unleashed like genies from a bottle.
But it is time to face our fears.
If this conversation does not begin with us, then with who? Reconciliation must begin with us.
It happens that the leaders of the Episcopal Church will be gathering in the next week for our national General Convention, held every three years.
I will be boarding an airplane later today bound for Salt Lake City where General Convention will be held.
I will be representing the Diocese of Virginia as one of four clergy alternates. This will be my third General Convention.
General Convention is not something we ordinarily talk about from the pulpit, but I want to do that a bit today. General Convention is our highest governing authority in our denomination.
It has a language all its own – rather than “delegates,” we have “deputies.” All of the proposals are to be found in what is called “the blue book,” though it is no longer blue or a book. You can find all of it online.
General Convention is a bicameral legislature, with a House of Deputies that functions like a House of Representatives, and an upper house, the House of Bishops, which functions like a Senate. 
Proposals must pass both houses in identical form to win passage.
The deputies were chosen by each diocese at local conventions two years ago. Each of the 110 dioceses elects four clergy deputies and four lay deputies, and eight alternates. I am an alternate clergy deputy.
Others from St. Paul’s are also going: Emily Shelton, one of our UVA students will help represent the Episcopal Peace Fellowship; and Grace Aheron, one of our youth leaders, will be participating in several events.
It is easy, too easy, to criticize General Convention as outmoded or inefficient or too expensive.
But it is worth celebrating that a democratic legislative body governs our church. We do not have a magisterium handing down edicts from on high. We elect our leaders.
This will be a momentous General Convention. This is the end of Presiding Bishop Katharine’s nine-year term, and the bishops will be electing a new presiding bishop.
They will go behind closed doors and will not emerge until they reappear with the presiding bishop-elect, who must then be confirmed by the House of Deputies.
The candidates include Bishop Michael Curry of the Diocese of North Carolina, who by the way, ordained Pastor Heather a few years ago.
If elected, Bishop Curry would become the first African American presiding bishop in our history. There are three other candidates, imminently qualified and faithful bishops. Please keep all of them in your prayers. It is a tough job.
Also on deck is a proposal to change the marriage ceremony to allow for the marriage of two people of the same sex.
A great deal of debate has gone into this, and a task force has spent many years examining the theology, the biblical passages and the cultural, legal and social issues. This is not a new topic for our church. Where this will go, I cannot predict.
General Convention is more than legislation, much, much more. There will be three times as many people in Salt Lake attending General Convention as there will be voting deputies and bishops.
 General Convention is a festival, with worship services, workshops, reunions, and networking to-the-max. I always learn something new and meet new people.
Going on side-by-side with General Convention is a national youth gathering, and the triennial meeting of the national Episcopal Church Women.
I’ve always found General Convention fascinating, uplifting and full of energy.
Please keep in your prayers all of us who are going to Salt Lake.
Let me close where I began – with the story of Jesus in the boat quelling the storm.
There is one overriding point to the story that I hope all of us will keep in mind in the days and months ahead: the Risen Christ is in charge, not us.
The responsibility falls to us to be the stewards of this church.
We must be the ones surrounding hatred with love and forcing hatred to surrender.
And know this to the depths of your soul: the Risen Christ is here in this boat with us, guiding us, calming the storms, drying our tears – and will be with us forever. AMEN.

        


Friday, June 12, 2015

Taking Leave

                                  
Dear St. Paul's Family,

These past seven years have been an amazing grace-filled experience for Lori and myself. We have made Charlottesville our home and we love this parish and each of you. We have experienced many joys – and many trials – together. It is therefore with mixed emotions that I tell you of my intent to resign as your Rector and return to the Diocese of Northern California this summer.

I have been offered the position of “priest-in-charge” of the Church of the Incarnation in Santa Rosa, a small city in Sonoma County north of San Francisco. My mother, who just turned 90, lives about an hour away, and most of my family is in the area. It has become abundantly clear in the last few months that my family needs us to return, and I could not ignore this invitation by the people of Santa Rosa to do so.

I realize that this decision may come as a surprise to some. I had intended to finish my ministry here at St. Paul’s and retire from this wonderful parish. But I am reminded once again that my timing might not be the Holy Spirit’s timing. I was not looking for a new position. However, a few weeks ago I was approached by the Rt. Rev. Barry Beisner, the bishop of the Diocese of Northern California, who asked me to consider this position. Barry has been one of my mentors for more than 20 years, long before he became a bishop. I was ordained in his diocese and served there as a lay leader and later as a priest for 18 years. After much prayer and conversation, I’ve accepted this offer.

My last Sunday at St. Paul’s will be July 19. Between now and then, I hope we can celebrate what we have done together. I will make myself available in the next few weeks to meet with anyone who feels the need to meet with me for whatever reason.

St. Paul’s is a very strong and vibrant parish, with a talented staff, gifted lay leadership, and outstanding clergy. Charles Lancaster, our senior warden, and Darren Ball, our junior warden, and all the members of the Vestry, will be working with the staff of the Diocese of Virginia in this transition. They will develop a plan to appoint an interim rector and form a search committee. This is a parish of people who know how to “be bold” and meet the future with grace and courage.

There is no way that I can thank you adequately enough for the opportunities you have given me these past seven years. We will cherish your love forever. Finally, please keep us, and all of the St. Paul’s family, in your prayers.


Blessings,

Jim



Saturday, April 25, 2015

New way to support our University of Virginia students

We now have a new way to support our student ministries through the University of Virginia Fund with one-time gifts or on-going contributions. Please promote this with your friends. This is a good way to show support for both UVA and our Canterbury student program. Click HERE to give to our Episcopal Canterbury student ministry.

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

St. Paul's Lenten reflections

Once again we bring you reflections for each day of Lent written by members and friends of St. Paul's. The first, by poet priest Doug Vest, is posted for Ash Wednesday. Please have a look and come back each day. The link to the reflections is HERE, and you can also click on the colorful cross icon on this page to get there.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

My prayer at the Virginia General Assembly

I should have posted this a few days ago. It was my honor and privilege to give the opening prayer at the Virginia General Assembly last Friday, also marking the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday. As some of you know, I was the Chaplain to the California Senate for four years and did this every legislative day. I much enjoyed seeing another legislature in action (or in the opening stages of action), and I am grateful to Delegate David Toscano for inviting me. Below is my prayer, inspired by a blessing written by William Sloane Coffin many years ago.

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Gracious and loving God, as we honor in the next few days the memory of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., we come before you with gratitude for his prophetic life and service, and we give thanks for the opportunity to serve in our own time.

Give us the eyes to see the possibilities others do not see, and the ears to hear the people whose voices are seldom heard.

May our lawmakers risk something big for something good; may they remember that the world is too large for anything but compassion, and too small for anything but cooperation.

May God kindle in our hearts the courage to break down the boundaries that divide us, the wisdom to lift up those who are poor, sick, oppressed and afraid, and the strength to work tirelessly to make real our nation’s promise of equal justice for all.

May our lawmakers build this great commonwealth not just for ourselves but as a beacon to the world for generations to come. In this we pray, AMEN.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Marcus Borg and his passing

We learned tonight that Marcus Borg died this morning. I did not know until now he was ill. His book Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time in the early '90s had a huge impact on me. 

It was my pleasure to be his driver and guide when he led our clergy retreat in the Diocese of Northern California a few years ago. 

Driving around Sacramento, we talked about all sorts of concepts in the New Testament from eschatology to resurrection. He was a relentless scholar and a gentle teacher.

I will reflect more in this space about him in a few days.

His contribution to our understanding of who Jesus really was is enormous. He was controversial, and he evoked strong reactions. He was also willing to entertain other opinions and change his mind. He will be missed. May he rest in peace and rise in glory!

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Alcohol, driving, texting and the tragedy in Maryland

Friends,

As you are probably aware, the Suffragan Bishop of Maryland, Heather Cook, has been charged with manslaughter in the death of a bicyclist. This came across my email today from Jim Mathes, the bishop of the Diocese of San Diego, who is also a friend of mine. He says this far better than I can, and so I would ask that you read this:

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Beloved in Christ,

There has been much written about the tragic event in the Diocese of Maryland on December 27. On that day, the bishop suffragan, Heather Cook, while driving and allegedly intoxicated and texting on a mobile device, struck a cyclist, Thomas Palermo. I have been, thus far, able to resist adding to the avalanche of words. However, I have found myself profoundly affected by this horrible event. A husband and father is dead. A bishop is charged, arrested and now in rehab in prison as she awaits trial. A diocese is reeling.

It is abundantly clear that our church will reevaluate its calling processes in light of this event. Bishops and all clergy in our church, and I imagine other denominations, will receive much greater scrutiny. However, I wonder what should be our contemplation. What should be our confession and amendment of life? In particular, I ponder our relationship with the three contributing factors in this matter: motorized vehicles, alcohol, and mobile communication.

As most of you know, I run and walk a fair amount. Over the last couple of weeks, I have been more observant of motorists' driving habits. Most of the time when people come to stop signs, they do not fully stop. Indeed, some people are rather reckless in their haste. Add this to speeding, changing lanes too closely, and other behaviors, and it is remarkable that there are not more injuries and deaths on the highway. Comparisons of gun deaths to automobile deaths are often used to underscore the need for gun control. But the reality is that, in the majority of the U.S., more people die in automobile accidents than because of a gun.* Automobiles can be deadly. We forget when we drive a car that we are propelling thousands of pounds of metal, glass, plastic, and rubber at high speed. The laws of physics will not suspend when we are in a hurry or inattentive. My confession to you is that I have too often put my own schedule and priorities above safety. My amendment of life is to exercise a renewed caution while driving. My highest priority must be to others and to care for myself. 

Thirty-one percent of the automobile fatalities in the U.S. are related to alcohol. In spite of this, and a whole host of other damage done to individuals and families by alcohol abuse, our culture continues to be alcohol-focused in social interactions: beer at ball games, champagne at New Year's, etc. As Episcopalians, we have fully bought into that. Historically, we have tended to differentiate ourselves by our drinking: whenever two or three are gathered together, there is a "fifth." It is time to deeply consider our relationship to alcohol, not in some sort of prudish way, but in a way that strongly asserts moderation and confronts, out of love, behavior that is harmful. My confession to you is that I have been complicit in a culture that promotes alcohol consumption. We are going to reevaluate how, and if, we serve alcohol at diocesan events. In addition, I am going to look into ways that the clergy members of the diocese can practice health and well-being in their alcohol use, including intervening where there are problems.

Living in the age of data phones, email, and texting, and the use of mobile devices while driving, has become a significant safety issue. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention includes texting as one of many actions while driving that is considered "distracted driving." One fifth of all U.S. auto fatalities include distracted driving as a contributing factor. Again, why are we so busy that we must multi-task? What makes us think that what we are doing is more important than our own lives and the lives of those around us? I suggest that our promise to respect the dignity of every human being requires that, when undertaking the great responsibility of moving a car at high speed, we give it our fullest attention. My confession is that I have done things while driving that are distracting to me and thus, dangerous. My amendment of life is to change this behavior. In particular, I need to reevaluate the way I talk on the phone while driving. There is no question that, while lawful, the whole exercise of making and executing phone calls is distracting. As your bishop, I should let voicemail do the work while driving and let driving be my singular work.

This reflection is open-ended for me. I hope it serves as an invitation for conversation within our clergy community, and our wider church community. The Maryland event should change us. Our relationship to Jesus as the one who comes to show us the way, the truth, and the life, is an invitation to change and transformation. That is why I come to you at this time with a posture of personal and inward reflection, confession, and "with God's help" and yours, a life more on the way of Jesus. In this time, we are called to a greater sense of self-awareness and to evaluate our own behavior and congregational practices. Will you join me in this movement?

Please pray for the Palermo family, the Diocese of Maryland, and Bishop Cook. Let us pray for healing, peace and reconciliation.



Peace and gentle days be with you,
signature
The Rt. Rev. James R. Mathes
Bishop 

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

The passing of Al Martinez, author of "Get the kid his peaches"

Sad to hear today of the death of Al Martinez, the great storyteller of the Los Angeles Times. We've featured his "Get the kid his peaches" story every Christmas Eve on this blog (you can read it once again HERE). May he rest in peace, rise and glory, and his words continue to inspire, amuse and push us from our comfort zones.

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Epiphany, the moon, and the stars within

Moonset, Arlington House, Virginia
Photo by The Washington Post
Not all stars are in the sky. Some are within us.

The last few mornings, if you were up early enough, like I was, you would have seen the moon setting on the western horizon. The moon was nearly full, and rose in the east soon after sunset, and the moon gradually rose in the night sky, glowing white above us.

As we slept, the moon arched toward the western sky horizon. Then the moon dimmed to orange as it sank in the western sky, glowing like the sunset of a few hours earlier, but not in a way that blinds us when we look into it.

The moon is a reminder that the brightness of the sun is with us even in the darkness of the night. I’d like to think that is what Epiphany is about – a reminder that the Holy still glows even on these dark, dreary cold winter nights.

You can’t look into the sun without blinding yourself. Sometimes the holy is like that, too. But you can look at the moon all night long if you like. Sometimes these fainter reminders of the holy are easier for us to see, too.

In the Epiphany story from the Gospel of Matthew 2:1-12   we meet once again the magi as they follow the glow of a star to the crib of Jesus. Like watching the moon arching across the sky, they follow this star all night long.

Let me point out a few details you might not have noticed in the story of the magi: The story does not tell us what the star looked like. It must have been a faint star indeed. I doubt it looked like the star streaking across the sky on Hallmark cards. Nowhere in the biblical story does it say anyone other than the magi saw the star. No one else sees it. Not Herod, not anyone in Jerusalem. Only these men, who like the moon, rise from the east.

Maybe the star wasn’t in the sky at all. Maybe the star was glowing inside them. When magi first saw this star, they did not know where they were going, or how the journey would come out. But they followed it anyway.

That is the definition of faith – following a star, going somewhere, and doing something, without being certain of the final destination. The magi were not the first to follow a star, and not the last. We too are called to follow the star glowing inside us.

The wise men – the Magi – follow their star to the infant Jesus. They come to behold and honor the newborn king, and they discover that this king is like no other.

He will grow to become a servant king with no throne, no scepter, no political power. He will wash the feet of his followers, heal the sick, feed the hungry, and share meals with saints and sinners alike.

He will teach, he will pray, he will get frustrated and angry at the greed and narrowness of people. He will ultimately go to the Cross to show us that there is more to life than death – more to life than what we see now.

As he walks among us, Jesus teaches really only one thing – that we should love God, and love each other, as God loves us. We are challenged to do just that, by giving life to God’s shalom and using our hands and feet to bring healing, peace and justice to the world around us. That is the star we are called to follow.

Sometimes we only see the star in the moonlight, but we still can see the star.

“Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD has risen upon you. For darkness shall cover the earth, and thick darkness the peoples; but the LORD will arise upon you, and his glory will appear over you.” (Isaiah 60:1)

Friday, January 2, 2015

The angels encamped around us this year

Orion Nebula, NASA
“The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them.”
– Psalm 34:7

My childhood admission: I used to be afraid of a lot of things. I saw the movie “The Blob” with Steve McQueen about space goo from a meteor that landed on earth and ate everyone, especially kids sitting in movie theaters. The Blob oozed under seats and out of heat ventilators.

For years I thought The Blob might be under my bed. Ok, I really didn’t think that, but just to be safe, I did not let my hand hover below the bed at night.

More seriously, I was also afraid of the concept of infinity. The idea that space goes on and on forever scared the daylights out of me. I can’t explain exactly why, but it did. Still does.

The idea of infinite time also scared me. What came before time? Does time end? If time does end, did existence ever exist? If time doesn’t end, how does that work?

Adding to my fear, in church the preacher used to talk about God living outside of time and God coming at the end of time. How does that work?

Call me a neurotic kid with such strange fears. My parents thought I should be more worried about spelling tests and my “times table.”

Yet, I think some of my childhood fear about infinity and time might be what the biblical admonitions about “fear of the LORD” are getting at. It is tempting to translate the word “fear” into “awe” (of the LORD), and that works one level. But creation is so vast, and the concepts of time, space, infinity, are truly so beyond human comprehension that there must be more to this than awe. Who are we to think we can understand this? Who are we to think we can tame the universe? There is a lot to be afraid of out there.

We cannot know God easily or directly. The Book of Job ends with God bellowing at Job, “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding.” (Job 38:4). We don’t.

I bring this up as a way of suggesting that we might enter the new year with a measure of humility about our most cherished beliefs and opinions about everything from religion to politics. We are but mortal, made from dust and to dust we shall return. God’s ways are not our ways, and we are living on a finite rock in a tiny corner of the universe. Our conflicts over religion and politics are comparatively trivial. There is so much we don’t know even about ourselves and our planet, let alone the rest of the universe.

We might want to hold lightly to our opinions, listen to each other a little more closely, care for each other a little more deeply, and not be so certain we have this God thing figured out so perfectly. “Fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom,” so the wise rabbi says in Proverbs 1:7.

There is hope in this. The Morning Prayer reading for today begins with Psalm 34 and its prayer for wisdom and peace. Lately I’ve been reading the psalms from the Revised Standard Version of the Bible rather than the psalms tucked into the back of the prayer book. I like RSV version better including Psalm 34, especially this line: “The angel of the LORD encamps around those who fear him, and delivers them.”

May each of us find the angels encamped around us this year, protecting us from evil and from the arrogance of our own certainty. May many blessings light our path. And let’s be careful out there.

By James Richardson, Fiat Lux

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Blessing for the new year

Here is a blessing for the new year from our friend Steven Charleston:

There is no harm that can come to you, no matter how frail and fragile you feel, for this passing stream of light is not the measure of all you are, but only the rough canvas on which the colors of your life are forever being painted. You are not encompassed by a clock, marked off into a reality of artificial movements, but designed to be free from such constraints, able to rise up on the wings of your own imagination to see the hands behind the time. Hurt may happen, but it will never last nor have the final word in the sonnet that is your soul, for that wisdom will go on and on, speaking wonders into a future you cannot even name.

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Daydreams turning to spring and ... baseball

Well my friends, we are deep into winter now, and a boy's thoughts turn to ... baseball.

I should have posted this awhile back: my commentary for The Sacramento Bee, my former journalistic home, on the San Francisco Giants season just past. That would be the World Series Championship season. So with daydreams turning to spring, here is my piece...

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Giants fan fulfills bucket list baseball season

11/01/2014 4:00 PM 
 11/03/2014 9:07 AM




Read more here: http://www.sacbee.com/opinion/california-forum/article3497613.html#storylink=cpy

My father took me to my first baseball game at Candlestick Park in 1962. The Giants played the St. Louis Cardinals, and Willie Mays won the game in the 10th inning with a home run. I was 9 years old. I was hooked on Giants baseball for life.
This season I did something that has always been on my bucket list: follow the Giants season game by game, and not just occasionally. This season, I would follow every game. That’s 162 regular season games and, as it turned out, 17 postseason games.
I started by watching the televised spring training games on MLB.TV. By the end of the season, I had watched, or listened to, 105 regular season games, including 10 playoffs and seven World Series games. If I didn’t watch or listen, I read the wrap the next morning in the Northern California newspapers.
My wife, Lori, was a saint for putting up with what became my obsession. She watched many games, and we went to a few. At a family wedding in Wisconsin, I had a game playing on my smartphone. 
In an odd way, it helped that we no longer live in California. We live in Virginia, which, as it happens, is the market territory of the Washington Nationals. There were no blackouts for Giants games here except when the Giants played the Nats, in which case the tickets were about one-third the price of a seat in San Francisco.
At our first Nats game, we found ourselves sitting in a sea of orange and black that stretched from home plate into the left field stands. It seemed we were seated with thousands of diaspora Californians rooting for our ancestral team. Pitcher Jake Peavy signed a baseball for me.
For most games, I could webstream Bay Area TV coverage. But for some games, I listened to the KNBR radio webstream, and that took me back to my boyhood when that is how we “saw” most Giants games. 
Hearing it on the radio tapped my imagination in ways I’ve not experienced in years. No slow motion, no replays – just the artistry of a voice in a booth finding just the right words to describe an enormously complex series of movements on a field. My favorite line, as Marco Scutarowas plodding around third base: “He’s leaking oil.” 
I learned a lot about baseball, how grueling it is and how Bruce Bochy had to manage through slumps, injuries and “buzzard’s luck” as he calls it. We saw new players emerge, in particular Joe Panik, but also saw many veteran players struggle with season-ending injuries – Matt Cain, Angel Pagan, Hector Sanchez, Scutaro. I grew to understand that the baseball season is as much about stamina as it is skill. So is watching.
We saw Tim Lincecum pitch a no-hitter, and then fall into the doldrums. We suffered through the Dan Uggla experiment at second base (batting average with the Giants: .000) and admired Brandon Belt as he came back twice from injuries. 
We were awestruck by Hunter Pence at full throttle every single game he played. My favorite Pence sign, appropriately at a Nationals game, was “Hunter Pence wrote the Declaration of Independence.” I suppose that only in Washington, D.C., would that be meant as an insult. 
And, yes, Madison Bumgarner is an extraordinary pitcher – and an extraordinary hitter with four home runs, two of them grand slams. Yet this team was not about a superhero, but about a bunch of guys who did things very well when it counted. 
But it was more than just about pitching, hitting and scores. Baseball is also about relentless hype and promotion, and endless prognostication by baseball “experts.” Like political writers (of which I once was one), getting it wrong doesn’t stop the experts from churning out more authoritative opinions, usually discarded a few days later.
Mostly, I learned how a bunch of basically humble guys figured out how to play together under enormous pressure and win when by all the odds they should have lost. They looked like they were having fun. Many of the teams they played did not (read Dodgers). Sometimes the Giants lost, and lost badly. Other games they just barely won (like that last game of the World Series). If there is any sport that mirrors daily life, this is it.
To have this season conclude in a 3-2 nail-biter in the seventh game of the World Series is nothing I remotely could have predicted when I started this adventure in March.
Ski season approaches. The television will be off most of the time in my house. If the 49ers make it to the Super Bowl, I’ll check it out. Mostly, I will be awaiting the words: “Pitchers and catchers report.”
James Richardson, a former senior 
writer with The Bee, is an Episcopal priest and the rector of St. Paul’s 
Memorial Church in Charlottesville, Va.

Read more here: http://www.sacbee.com/opinion/california-forum/article3497613.html#storylink=cpy