The Sultan of Swat. The King of Crash. The Colossus of Clout. The Great Bambino. The Promoter of Religious Education?
Babe Ruth, one of the greatest baseball players ever, was Catholic. Although not pious for most of his life, the Hall of Famer’s spiritual journey offers an encouraging lesson for catechists: what they teach today might not bear immediate fruit, but may become the inspiration a soul depends on to grow in a relationship with Christ.
Ruth emphasized this point quite clearly in his last public statement. He reflected not on the 714 home runs, World Series titles or other mythic accomplishments, but the importance of imparting the faith to children. To him, his “religious training” as a kid helped him eventually see how “God was boss” throughout his life.
“I think as far as most kids go, once religion sinks in, it stays there — deep down,” Ruth wrote. “They may fail it, but it never fails them. When the score is against them, or they get a bum pitch, that unfailing Something [sic] inside will be there to draw on.”
Ruth had a “rotten start in life,” spending more time in his father’s saloon than school. A delinquent and “incorrigible” child, his parents sent the future baseball legend to St. Mary’s Industrial School in Baltimore, Md., a reformatory and orphanage run by the Xaverian Brothers.
Though Ruth detested authority, Brother Matthias — a large, 6-foot-6 man — was different. The future ballplayer would regard the Xaverian brother as the “greatest man I have ever known.” Under his tutelage, Ruth learned of God’s love and “began to see that I had a higher Person [sic] to reckon with who never changed.”
Brother Matthias also introduced the Babe to baseball. Ruth was awed by Brother Matthias’ athleticism and faith, noting how the religious man “could have been successful at anything he wanted to in life — and he chose the church.” Ruth studied and incorporated the Xaverian brother’s skills on the diamond; so much so, that the Society for American Baseball Research (SABR) recognized, “By copying much of what he saw in Matthias, young Ruth went on to revolutionize the game of baseball, especially with his bat.”
The two remained lifelong friends until Brother Matthias’ death at 72 in 1944. Ruth followed only a few short years later in 1948, dying after battling cancer at 53.
Despite the friendship, once Ruth left St. Mary’s and tasted fame, the “swift tempo of living shoved religion into the background,” as he humbly acknowledged.
Still, Ruth didn’t completely abandon God or forget Brother Matthias’ catechesis. He regularly participated in charitable events, was an active member of the Knights of Columbus, and even continued praying at an “altar” in his New York City apartment window. In one example, after St. Mary’s was razed due to a fire, he fundraised to rebuild the “house that built Ruth” by escorting the reformatory’s band to major league ballparks.
At the end of Ruth’s life, faith and education emerged as crucial to setting children up for a truly happy life, especially to withstand difficult trials. When he faced a “serious” surgery, the former slugger leaned on the faith of his youth, going to confession in which he felt God’s mercy and “free from fear and worries.”
With his final public words, he wanted every child to know God’s love and form their moral consciences through religious education. He also encouraged teachers to persevere even if the lessons weren’t seemingly taking root.
“They’ll never want to be holy — they’ll act like tough monkeys in contrast, but somewhere inside will be a solid little chapel,” Ruth wrote. “It may get dusty from neglect, but the time will come when the door will be opened with much relief.”
Ruth’s renewed attention to his faith remained with him until death. He was even buried with a Miraculous Medal gifted to him by a boy from New Jersey.
The Hall of Fame slugger may not be canonized but his prodigal return to the Church and emphasis on children’s religious education demonstrates that catechesis is not so simple. Some seeds don’t bear immediate fruit but require time and emerge when God sees fit.
However, as Ruth said, the “kids can’t take [faith], if we don’t give it to them.” Today, a reinvigorated focus on religious education could not be more urgent. With the decline of religious practice in America over the past several decades, fewer children and U.S. adults are religiously literate, lacking basic knowledge of Christianity’s faith, history and influence. Civil society, once fueled by numerous faith-based charities, has also largely weakened.
Concurrently, anxiety, isolation, and Americans’ feelings of their lives lacking purpose have risen. In a way, without proper catechesis, models to imitate, and strong communities, young adults and children may not have a “solid little chapel” because of this great silent apostasy, cultural secularization, and lack of spiritual guidance.
Ultimately, Ruth’s story offers hope: Although he imitated Brother Matthias’ swing, the Sultan of Swat, more importantly, absorbed something of his catechist’s faith.
We may plant a seed but never reap the harvest. Nevertheless, teaching the faith is never a failed pursuit. In truth, it’s an act of humility: surrendering to the Holy Spirit and trusting he is working to inspire the Church’s next generation. We must not despair, still pointing others to Christ — which is more consequential than Ruth’s alleged point to the Wrigley Field bleachers (or his “called shot”).
In his final public reflections, the Great Bambino — who is the standard by which generations of ballplayers have been measured — emphasized this transmission of faith. Not the home runs. Not his swing. Not the titles. But in turning everything over to God.
So, be encouraged. Be patient. Be hopeful. Plant seeds and trust God is building the “solid little chapel” in someone’s soul.
This article was originally published by RealClearReligion and made available via RealClearWire.
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[ H/T WorldNetDaily ]
