Walk-off Homers are an Image of Heaven
Baseball as an icon of hope
In August of 2018, a rookie on the Chicago Cubs named David Bote hit a walk-off home run in the most dramatic scenario possible: bottom of the ninth, down by three, bases loaded, two outs. It was a moment so sublime a Cubs fan would almost feel foolish dreaming about it: a warm summer night, Bill Murray drinking beer in the front row, the “W” flag flying above center fied.
That night, the Cubs shared this image of Bote rounding third to waiting teammates and euphoric fans, which was just perfect:
Just look at the characters in this storybook scene:
Bote rounding third with his hands exuberantly wide;
The third base coach exclaiming in disbelief as he runs past;
The whole Cubs team rushing to the plate, where they are leaping for joy and calling for Bote to come home;
Fans with hands up, high-fiving and clapping as they cheer.
Even if you’re not a Cubs fan, this is an image that makes you feel something. It truly was a magical moment of collective effervescence.
We Christians have learned to look at the world in a way that suspects God is trying to tell us something—we’re always on the lookout for ways the visible reflects the invisible. This photo of that moment in Wrigley Field put into focus the height of unity, joy, and completeness—all qualities that people of faith associate with paradise.
So I retweeted this image with a simple caption: “I collect images of walk-off home run hitters rounding third because they are an image of heaven.” And it’s true—I’ve been retweeting, screen-grabbing, and re-posting walk-off homer celebrations for a while now (here, here, and here, for example). It started with this Sports Illustrated foldout from the Little League World Series—just look at their faces!
I was slowly becoming known as “the walk-off homerun guy” on social media, which, honestly, is one of the better personas someone can have online—no complaints. People started tagging me when their favorite team celebrated a walk-off home run, which kinda felt like getting trampled by puppies—just a delight.
A. Bartlett Giamatti was commissioner of baseball for five months in 1989—he explained some of what is going on with this image. He had a distinguished career as an English scholar and served as Yale’s youngest president, but it seems God put him on this earth to ban Pete Rose from baseball—Giamatti died eight days after handing down that decision. He left behind a short, brilliant book about the game called Take Time for Paradise, which identifies why baseball so resonates in our public imagination as Americans. Here’s a stunning quote to hang onto:
Every couple of years, my original post of the Bote homerun and my tagline identifying it as an image of heaven starts circulating online, and people begin asking me if they can buy an image of a walk-off homer from their favorite team. Usually, they are reaching out because a loved one has just died, and this idea helps them imagine their passing as an entrance into glory. I have to explain that I don’t take any credit for the photos (you’ll have to reach out to the photographer!), but that I’d like to pray for their loved one. It’s been a real privilege to hear about the lives of these departed, and to carry them in prayer with their families. (In fact, in your charity, please pray for Richard and Anna—their families messaged me just this week.)
My uncle died last summer from Parkinson’s. He played center field in a local amateur league when he was young—quiet but fast and could hit the leather off the ball. When my dad and his brothers and sisters gathered to mourn, they found the Cubs walk-off image to be a perfect way to celebrate his life. Parkinson’s takes away so much—thinking of my uncle like this gave them a way to imagine his entry into heaven as a triumphant turn into the arms of friends and family waiting there for him with joy.
Baseball resonates with so many people because it is a representation of the journey we all make in life. We begin with our family in the dugout, then we take our turn in the world alone at the plate. We wander out along the base paths and separate ourselves to see how far we can go. We use our wits and will to advance, and one day we come around third and return home, back where we belong, where we are known, with people who love us.
It’s this reunion, this return that echoes in our spirits as hope. We all hope we are not alone in the end, that our loved ones, when they depart from us, are never truly gone. Images like this speak to that hope — they spark something within us. We recognize that joy, we long for it, we want it to be true for us as well.
Where did that desire come from? Why do moments like this ricochet around in our hearts? Could it be that we are made for such glory — that reunion is strung through our DNA and restoration lives in our bones?
Won’t that be what heaven feels like — coming home?
Baseball season is upon us again and the walk-off homers have already begun. The Tampa Bay Rays walked off their first game with a winning homer in their temporary home at Steinbrenner Field. And Mookie Bets won the second game for the Dodgers with a walk-off homer—the slow-mo dousing in this celebration video is worth a watch:
It’s early in the season yet—there’s an old saying that you shouldn’t even check the standings until Memorial Day—but dang, it’s hard not to believe in good things this time of year.