On Saturday, a bomb detonated on West 23rd Street in Manhattan at 8:30 p.m., injuring 29 people.
A man claiming allegiance to the Islamic State stabbed nine people at a mall in central Minnesota.
On Sunday, four commando-style gunmen, armed with AK-47 assault rifles and grenades, burst into the brigade headquarters on an Indian army base that killed 17 soldiers.
In New Jersey, multiple explosive devices were found, one of which exploded near a train station.
Then just yesterday, Reuters reported that a ceasefire negotiated by the U.S. and Russia in war-ravaged Syria looked imminent in collapsing. Insurgents were mounting strategies and arms, ready to resume fighting.
And as I write this…
The U.S. Coast Guard is frantically searching for three missing boaters on Lake Superior, including a nine year old boy.
And on both the East and West coasts of Florida, authorities are investigating two unrelated, fatal shootings. One of the victims was a four year old girl. The other was only seventeen months old.
I understand why so many turn off the news — and not just to avoid the vicious vitriol disappointingly included in this year’s election cycle. We turn off the news because it’s full of heartache and sin. Too many people, too many victims, and too much wrongdoing. Yes, it’s too many and too much.
But let me say this…
In all of the moments where people arguably are intentionally bringing attention to self, each of the above atrocities are the moments, in my opinion, most deserving of “a knee.” There is the heartache. The heartache in their lives is “bigger than me.” To take a knee is to pay honor to them.
Football is just a game. It’s only a game. Granted, I think we learn a lot from even the lesser things in life. Those lesser, more routine things — it’s where God teaches us because we’re more apt to finally “get it.” So in football and this whole knee idea… on one hand taking a knee means the game is over; it’s synonymous with the “quarterback kneel,” when the outcome of the game is settled, the offense is aligned in their victory formation, and the knee is taken to run the clock down and preserve the win.
On the other (far bigger) hand, to take a knee is a show of respect. Taking a knee means we stop whatever we’re doing, momentarily ending our normal activity, and recognizing that there are other things more important than moi.
Truthfully, when the San Francisco backup quarterback originally sat in protest, I was a bit confused. The reality is that his sitting could have just as easily been motivated by his disgust with 49er management that he had regressed to backup, and there is/was no way to discern with certainty whether his initial act was a protest against perceived police brutality or the manifestation of a professional pout.
Then, however, the quarterback took a knee. To me, that means something different.
Taking a knee is a sign of submission. Again, it’s an awareness that something is bigger than self.
It’s why at game’s end of every NFL contest, regardless of outcome, members of both teams meet at midfield. The tradition began 26 years ago, in December of 1990, when 49ers chaplain Pat Richie and NY Giants chaplain Dave Bratton arranged for the first joint postgame prayer in NFL history.
As Richie said then — knowing these two teams detested one another — that they saw each other as the enemy — “I wonder if there’s something that we could do or should do, as far as a reflection of our faith. What if we did something as simple as pray with the New York Giants?”
Ah, what if we took all attention off of self, met in the middle, and interacted with those we detest? What if we recognized the real atrocities in this world? And what if we were each more submissive and respectful, willing and wanting to take a knee?
Respectfully…
AR