While I may have been complicit in some nefarious deeds while in high school (though nearly all in my days before knowing Christ) I never once played hookie. Today, however, I joined with approximately 50,000 Kansas City Chiefs fans who also forsook church attendance in lieu of Chiefs-mania.
Please listen and you may come to empathize with my position. As we were driving home from Mayo on Thursday afternoon a friend and deacon in our church (whose name is Tom K.) called on my cell phone and asked what my plans were for this Sunday. Since I thought we would be gone for a longer time I had all my bases covered for Sunday morning. On that call Tom never told me why he was calling. It was my understanding that he was interested in finding out about our visit to Mayo, and if we had found out any new information.
The call ended. But I had this nagging suspicion that there was something in that conversation and question he wasn’t telling me. An hour or so later I called him back and asked why he had asked the question about Sunday. He then explained that he had six complementary K.C. Chiefs vs. the New Orleans Saints tickets (worth $100 each), in box seats, with free food, and was timidly wondering if he, as a deacon of the church, should be trying to lure the pastor away on a Sunday morning. He never said this of course. I’m just filling in the lines for you readers so that you can understand my position, my decision, and Tom’s culpability in it all.
Given the stressful week my beloved wife Karla insisted (this is true!) that I (along with my two oldest sons) go with Tom (and his two sons) to this game…sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. And so, I said “yes.”
We left at 8:00 a.m. Sunday morning and arrived back home at 7:30 Sunday evening. We even tried to sort of make up for not going to church that day by listening to a Pastor John Piper sermon from Hebrews on an MP3 disc…but Tom’s player wouldn’t read it.
It was a beautiful day. The Chiefs lost. The box seats turned out not to be box seats after all. And there was no free food, except perhaps for the foraging rodents who come out at night. But perhaps the most enjoyable moment of the entire day was when all six of us confidently strode into the box seats closest to our seat numbers, smelled all the good food, experienced the warmth, and were promptly asked to leave. The grumpy guardian of the box seats pointed to the cold outdoors and said, “Those are your seats.” Served us right I suppose…playing hookie and all. But it was still a very good day. Still, I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.