We love big days: the championship game, the graduation ceremony, the big vacation, the long-awaited reunion, the move to a new place, Thanksgiving, Christmas Day, and more. Some days are so big, we have to prepare the day before. Halloween became a thing in part because it was the so-called ‘hallowed’ evening before the Catholic church’s All Saints’ Day. It did not work out well, becoming an unholy day before a holiday that should have been a literal ‘holy-day.’
Europeans turned October 31 into a day of sin because of the all-too-common practice of indulgence before abstinence.
This pattern is even better-known in the case of Mardi Gras.
French for “Fat Tuesday,” Mardi Gras is the final day of indulgence before the abstinence of Lent.
Around the world the pre-Lenten season is known as Carnival, from a Latin phrase meaning “say goodbye to meat.” Knowing they are facing forty days of abstaining from meat (eating fish only), some Catholics indulge tremendously in the days and weeks leading up to Lent. (Given the gluttonous eating and drinking, I wonder whether the Carnival season does not invalidate whatever good people think they are doing by abstaining from meat for forty days.)
Finally, there is the worst example of Indulgence Before Abstinence, the bachelor party.
You know the idea: tomorrow morning a young man is going to give up all the other women of the world and settle down with one woman, so tonight he is going to go out and be as bad as he can possibly be.
As Wikipedia puts it, “bachelor parties in the US stereotypically entail massive alcohol consumption, hiring a stripper, and general rowdiness to which the bride might not have a positive reaction.” Nevertheless, some consider an out-of-control bachelor party perfectly normal. Fans call it “sowing wild oats,” or “one last hurrah,” or some say, “boys will be boys.” Sadly, bachelorette parties can be just as bad—and both are becoming more expensive every day, sometimes involving flights to Las Vegas, Mexico, or other far-flung destinations.
Why must we indulge before we abstain?
Why do people use the possibility that they might be good in the future as an excuse for definitely being bad in the present?
Let’s look at weddings differently. If the unchallenged God of universe, the Holy Lord of all creation is about to do something amazing in your life, wouldn’t it make sense to prepare yourself for a once-in-your-life encounter with greatness?
If God is coming to bless you with the love of your life, your beloved partner and spouse for the next fifty or sixty years, wouldn’t it make sense to prepare to meet with the Divine? To pray? To praise? To fast? To worship? Or if nothing else, to at least avoid making this a day of total failure, selfishness, and regret? (Do you really want to begin your marriage keeping secrets?)
The night before Israel crossed the Jordan to enter the promised land, Joshua made an important announcement. Did he tell the people to enjoy one last wild night of partying? To hold feasts, to drink until they passed out, to go from tent-to-tent, eating and drinking and celebrating and getting crazy? No.
“And Joshua said unto the people, ‘Sanctify yourselves. For tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you’” Joshua 3:5.
And of course, that is what happened. The next morning, the very moment the priests carrying the ark of the covenant stepped into the Jordan, the waters upstream “piled up in a heap” and the people crossed the river on dry land, Joshua 3:16-17.
THAT was an amazing day. A new generation—under Joshua’s new leadership—witnessed the miracle-working God at work. Once again, God rolled up His sleeves and got involved in their lives. And no one missed it because of a hangover. No one was throwing up from over-eating or over-drinking. No one was distracted and unable to take it all in. The people purified their hearts. They worshiped. They were ready. And God showed up and did something amazing.
Break the cycle of indulging before abstinence. When great things are coming, when God is about to do something exciting in your life, don’t indulge all your most fleshly appetites. Instead, follow the advice of Joshua:
“Sanctify yourselves. For tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you” Joshua 3:5.
AΩ.
* Before my wedding, I went to Chili’s with a handful of friends, then to the forgettable ’93 Stallone movie about mountain climbing, Cliffhanger. Much more interesting is the story of my son’s “bachelor party,” a story so entertaining I will post it here in its entirety, because I just love this story!
THE SANDLOT BACHELOR PARTY.
One weekend in late June, my son and his school bus full of groomsmen spent several nights together in a large AirBNB. The night before the wedding three of the boys went out to buy Marshall a gag gift. But they wound up lost in Round Rock. Round Rock is home to the Woodbine Mansion, a stunning wedding venue in a plantation-style home reminiscent of the deep South.
But Round Rock is also a baseball town. Participate in Texas baseball long enough and you will find yourself playing in Round Rock. There are city fields, select fields, tournament fields, you name it. Dell Diamond, the minor league home of the Round Rock Express, hosts the annual college baseball series the Karbach Classic. Two years ago Marshall faced off against the LSU Tigers there during the coldest February in years. Just outside Dell Diamond is a neighborhood of streets named for ballplayers. I have a photo somewhere of the intersection of Hank Aaron and Willie Mays (cont’d below).
And this is where the night got interesting. While driving around disoriented, the boys came across a baseball diamond with its stadium lights on. Drawn like moths to a flame, the young men parked and decided to look around. After all, these were not your everyday, run-of-the-mill groomsmen. These young fellas with the round shoulders and the strong backs were baseball players. Like Shoeless Joe Jackson, they could not resist the lure of the game. Baseball season is never really over, you know?
In fact, not only these three, but ALL the groomsmen were either current or former baseball players—the wedding was actually scheduled in late June to ensure no one would miss it due to playoffs. Baseball brought these amazing young men together, baseball and the wedding of a team-oriented player that would probably have had fifty groomsmen if it would have allowed him to recruit more of his buddies of the sweat and sand. Few things were ever more precious to him than teamwork, camaraderie, and being with his bros, his dudes.
So the three race back to the house, tell everyone else, and soon the gang’s all there, playing sandlot baseball on a Round Rock field with the lights accidentally left on. There are thirteen officially. Eleven college baseball players. Two high school players. That’s two teams—one of six and one of seven. Which is perfect, of course.
Tyson, always a slugger, had a bat in his car. Someone else produced a spike ball. But they only had the one. Would it sail over the fence, or would it wobble like some quarterback’s dying duck? Tyson tested it and hit the first pitch 300 feet. So they made a rule: everyone had to hit from his weaker side. No one wanted to lose the ball out there beyond the lights.
No one had gloves. Or needed them.
They played game after game after game. From ten p.m. to eleven to midnight and later. They changed teams. They played hard. They were covered in dirt and sweat. One had played in the college world series the week before. But he played just as hard that night, out there under the lights. With no umpires. No fans. No announcers. No girls. No uniforms. No official equipment.
They tell me the two who had not played since high school were the most competitive of them all. Playing for their lives. For bragging rights. They had something to prove—to themselves, if no one else. This was the showdown, the game of the ages. For two whose final baseball season went up in COVID flames in the spring of 2020, this was a chance at redemption.
For others it was a reunion, a chance to play with old friends and make new ones, to bury rivalries and laugh and marvel at the love of the game. How do men connect? They sweat together. What gets them to bond, to open up, to reach inside and process something? Action. Shared activities. Sports. Tonight it’s baseball. A chance to laugh and hug and fight and remember. And dream.
Marshall would get married the next day—and the others were right behind. But those midnight hours on a municipal diamond were a special moment, a night to stop and be boys, playing a boy’s game, just for each other. A moment to pause between boyhood and manhood, to look back over the dramatic wins and losses in a lifetime of youth sports and savor the simple love of the game, the deep love at the heart of the journey. The love of the game that is the only ‘why’ that can keep a young athlete motivated in the tough times. If you’re a player, you’ve got to protect the love of the game. Never let that fire go out.
It would have been amazing to watch though wouldn’t it? –A dozen young men playing at a world-class level? Like some great musical performance, an improvisational jam session, Thelonius Monk playing with John Coltraine and Miles Davis, only you had to be there because it would never be recorded.
But no one was there. Not one cheering mom. Not one of the dads who gave these young men baseball, and in giving them the game, gave them so much more. Not one sister or girlfriend. Not one coach. Just the guys. Thirteen bros. The dudes. And an improvisational celebration of life, and friends, and marriage, and growing up, and a game that can grow with you.
The love of the game.
The love of the game.
They never did buy Marshall that gift. But when his friends cobbled together a night of pick-up games in an empty stadium, they gave him so much more.
A sandlot game on an empty field at midnight: The greatest bachelor party there ever was.
Household Words: 