Herald Blog - Justin Meyers

In some small, I emphasize small, way I can relate to a people in Exile. I am a Detroit Tigers' fan in the heart of NYC. For the last few years my wife and I have fought our way on the subways during rush hour to make our pilgramage to Yankee Stadium dressed in our Tigers paraphernalia. We are often surrounded by throngs of people wearing their Yankee hats and shirts. Once we get there we are heckled and derided for our choice of teams...but we boldly stand and cheer each time our Tigers get a hit and we roar with delight when they win, risking our lives for the team we love. (Every time we have gone the Tigers have won.)

Last year during our trek to the game a lone soul also wearing a Tigers jersey found us, asked if we were going to the game and if we could show him the way. He told us that a bunch of Yankee fans had told him to take the downtown train. (For you non New Yorkers that is the wrong way.) So we navigated with him though the underground of NY till at last all three of us were standing at the doorstep of baseball's colosseum. We had made the journey of the faithful fan, going to support our team though the darkest valleys, against mighty armies, and winning despite the odds being against us.

I find being a Christian not all that dissimilar sometimes. We journey through life dressed in the things that mark us as Christian, the hat of Baptism, the jersey of Communion, marking us and making us strangers in the land. We journey through dark valleys...meeting others who are marked with the sign and the seal as we are, journeying to a places where we can show the world our zeal for the Lord, and cheering for the work of God in this world.

P.S. This year I hope to be able to root for the Tigers as they face the Yankees in the playoffs (if anyone has tickets I'll take 2.)