“This is a judgment-free zone,” I heard someone say as I walked up to join the circle of out-of-shape parents stretching. We were preparing ourselves for the biggest soccer game of the year: kids vs. parents. Well, the biggest for the parents anyway, since it’s the only one where we can put into action the wise words we send out to the field in a regular game. “Push up!” “Defense!” “Get the ball!” Now we would have a chance to do those very things, if only our bodies would allow us to do the epic moves we were imagining. We must have looked pretty impressive, with some bearing cleats and shin guards and others in jeans and sweatshirts. We came with varying degrees of experience in the game of soccer and varying degrees of seriousness for this particular game. Personally, I was going to call it a win if none of us got injured. These “fun” games are always the most dangerous, which is why my husband opted out and said he would come watch instead. He said he wanted to be there when I pulled a hamstring … still not sure if this was for support or amusement, but either way, he was there with my other two kids, who were on the sidelines yelling, “Go Parents!”
The middle-schoolers’ skill and spryness against our experience and just um, adult-ness, made for a good match-up. We battled it out and ended up winning 3 to 1. But then again, we had an unfair advantage in addition to our size and experience. You see, they have a tradition in the kids vs. parents game: whenever the ball goes out of bounds, it is automatically the parents’ ball. There was even a time when the parents kicked it right out near our goal, and the coach (who was the ref for the day) was about to let the kids do a goal kick, but then he suddenly blew his whistle and yelled, “Upon further review, the parents will do a corner kick!”
This unfair rule is brilliant when you think about it.
This tradition does more than just allow the parents to win. It disarms everyone, parents and kids, from taking themselves too seriously. When the ref has decided that fairness is not going to be a factor, it frees everyone up. I am only guessing on this, but I am imagining that in his little talk with the kids before the game the coach must have said something like, “Okay boys, here’s the deal. The parents are going to win this game. Your job is to give them a run for their money and not kick them too hard in the shins.”
My son has been telling me for weeks about this unfair rule, and it is 50/50 whether he loves it or hates it. On the one hand, my son is a bit competitive when it comes to any game and wants everything to be fair. But on the other hand, I wonder if it frees him up to say, “Well, we lost because of that rule, not because we didn’t play well.” After all, we all know who has put more effort into this season. These boys have been out here practicing and playing other teams more days than not this fall, and how crushing would that be if a bunch of out-of-shape parents came and beat them in a fair match?
For the parents, this rule causes us to check our egos and reminds us that we are not actually that impressive. We won because the coach gave it to us. This allows us to not kill ourselves over it, although I’m pretty sure a few of us were on the brink. I did get a cleat to the top of my foot, which my running shoes did nothing to protect me from, but at least I didn’t pull a hamstring.
We want the world to be fair. In schools, in workplaces, in business, in politics. On the surface, this sounds like a noble end goal. We believe that peace and flourishing will be achieved if the cold indifference of fairness were the first and last word. No exceptions made, no allowances for human frailty. But if there’s anything I’ve learned as a parent, it’s that no matter how hard I try to force fairness, it does not work. If I give each of my kids the exact same size cookie, they will be happy, right? I wish it was that simple, but it doesn’t work out that way. What if one of them has more chocolate chips than the other? There are any number of ways that we can determine that something is not fair. It is impossible to make everything perfectly fair.
But then, a good parent doesn’t primarily concern himself/herself with what is fair for a child but rather what is good.
We could have played that soccer game with strict, by-the-book rules. It would have been fair, but what good is fairness if everyone is miserable?
God is like the coach who gives unfairly. He gives us the advantage, “and no one can boast” or take themselves too seriously because we know why we actually won. Maybe the good thing that God wants to give us and what we’re truly looking for in life is mercy, not fairness.
I joked when I left the game huffing and puffing that I’m going to immediately start training for next year’s game. And maybe that’s not such a bad idea, but maybe what that looks like is not more push-ups and crunches but rather a practice of receiving mercy and allowing it to change the way I play the game. Maybe daily life looks a little bit like a kids vs. parents soccer game, which really did turn out to be a judgment-free zone. Maybe the end goal is receiving mercy from God and that mercy overflowing to others.
Not that we showed any mercy to those middle-schoolers … but what fun would that be?
Good post
Oh Juliette, once again a brilliant article! Having recently gone through some physical trials it really speaks to me. Yes, life seems unfair at times but those situations can be opportunities for witness.