The baseball gods were unusually cruel last night. Red Sox lose. Yankees win. And then the inevitable: 756. I knew it was coming. Everyone knew it was coming. But hope springs eternal, and I held onto my sliver of faith that some way, somehow, the baseball gods would intervene and prevent the injustice. But it was not to be. A mighty, drug-powered swing of the bat, and a smirky grin plastered on an oversized head rounding the bases.

My immediate response was despair. I shook my fist at the TV and lamented loudly, Why baseball gods, why? The drama speaks to greater philosophical issues of the nature of God and the origin of good and evil. Why do bad things (Barry Bonds as home run king) happen to good people (all of America)? Or more appropriately in this case, why do good things (becoming home run king) happen to bad people (Barry Bonds)? There are no easy answers to these questions. Maybe there are no answers whatsoever. But as I’ve sorted out my feelings over the course of the morning, I’ve found solace in scripture. The sun rises on the good and the evil, and it rains on the just and the unjust. To everything there is a time and a purpose. A time to love and a time to hate.

I’m content to know that now must be a time to hate.