Published With Thanksgiving

“And Jesus said to them, “Come along with me; and I’ll show you how to fish for people” (Mark 1.17).

I saw Field of Dreams in the summer of 1989 at a two-screen theater in the now long-gone Raleigh Springs Mall. It was me and a couple of friends who had the choice of it or the Patrick Swayze-led Roadhouse. I have no memory of why the three of us—none of whom were into sports and particularly not into baseball—picked Field of Dreams.

If it’s been awhile (or never), Field of Dreams is the story of the Kinsella family and the unpredictable path their shared life takes after Ray, walking through their cornfield in the fading summer evening, hears a voice mention that if he builds “it” then he will come. The “it” turns out to be a baseball field in the middle of his prime farmland.

The film is not at all what you’d think of as a summer movie—it’s soundtrack consists of piano only, there are no explosions, and it’s got very few special effects. And, yet, it was one of the top ten grossing films of that summer, a summer that featured Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and Batman.

Back then, I didn’t associate it with the stories on which I’d been raised of Samuel and Abraham and the Disciples—narratives about people who were living their lives, going about their days until their world was turned upside down by a voice. One that is vague about its instructions, leaving the hearer a little bewildered as they attempt to follow this unexpected invitation. I also didn’t imagine things like that happened outside of stories and films.

What I think about when I watch the movie now is how honest it is when this voice intervenes in the Kinsella’s lives. As their story unfolds, they lose money and are in danger of losing not just their farm but their home. It has helped me think about what’s hidden between the lines of the familiar stories of Scripture. Abraham and Sarah packed up and left for the unknown, and likely struggled to eat and pay the cell phone bill. The Disciples probably spent the remainder of their days dependent on the generosity of others, having left jobs and businesses behind for the roads that led out of Judah.

For all its themes, Field of Dreams is a movie about the risk of what may come when we answer, as so many have, “Here I am.” It’s a story that reminds us that putting down our nets or plowing up our corn can bring ridicule, embarrassment, and uncertainty.

And yet, it also reminds me about the gain that’s there from the moment we say yes. It’s in the response that comes late in the film when Ray asks what he’s gained out of this. Under the fading summer daylight, he’s asked, is that why you did all this? For you?

Ray doesn’t answer this aloud, no more than Abraham or Peter or Paul would have, no more than any of us will. Because it’s not for us, never for ourselves. Even in our most selfish moments, we’ve done it for the one unseen but not unheard. The One who has been there from the beginning.

Jesus your life and your words can call us into the unknown and uncertain. Help me be quiet enough to hear, brave enough to act, and humble enough to come along with you.