(Thanks to blogger Tim Høiland for the idea for this post. Yes, this is a plug for a blog that every world Christian should be reading. And thanks to Peter, Paul and Mary for the music.)

I’m studying the Exodus from Egypt right now in preparation for some teaching at church.  And you can’t study Exodus without knowing something about Moses. A guy who stuttered, who would have been a convicted felon in our world, who was a smelly sheep herder, gets to lead a nation out of slavery. Talk about  a guy in right field, who has a fly ball plop into his glove.  “Lord, you want me to….WHAT?”

One of the themes of the lesson I’m prepping is about living in the desert. Not, living in the desert with AC and tap water, but living in the desert not knowing if you will survive to see tomorrow. The Israelites knew they were totally unprepared to live in the harsh environment. And it was doubly hard, because I don’t think they had any idea why they were there.  It was right field, without the grass.  (Another plug: Show up at Valley Presbyterian in Paradise Valley on the next two Wednesday nights if you want to hear the rest of the lesson.)

I have the song “Right Field” by Peter, Paul and Mary on a CD. But seeing it in video really brings out the depth of the story. Noel Paul Stookey can look so goofy when he sings, and that goofiness sums up how unprepared we can be for what life throws at us.  In fact, Stookey’s right fielder takes comfort in having little demanded of him. Being a goofball is easier.

But what’s amazing is, the minute the ball plops in his glove, he’s got a purpose. And it completely changes the way he thinks about his situation. Every right fielder has a choice: He or she can think of themselves as being a bad ballplayer, relegated to the frontier of the baseball field, or take stock and realize they have some neat gifts if they’re a right fielder.

I spent several early years of childhood struggling to sing in the sky-high keys that kiddie songs are written in.  In unison, I had my doubts about my singing abilities.  But once we started singing in parts, I realized I had a gift for singing low. Really low. Bass clef low.  It’s why I liked Peter, Paul and Mary so much — Mary Travers sang in my range, and suddenly, she made me think I had a future in vocal music. (Can I hear an “amen” from the altos out there?)  The first time I picked out Mary’s part in a song was like the ball plopping in the glove.

So if you feel you’re in right field right now, keep your eye on the ball.