JOHN ROACH STRATON died and went to his appointed kingdom where he
immediately sought an audience with the ruler of the realm.
"Let New York be destroyed," shouted Dr. Straton as he pushed his way
into the inner room. The king was engaged at the moment in watching a
sparrow fall to earth and motioned the visitor to compose himself in
silence, but there was an urgency in the voice and manner of the man
from earth which would not be denied. "Smite them hip and thigh," said
Dr. Straton and the king looked down at him and asked, "Is the necessity
immediate?"
"Delay not thy wrath," said Dr. Straton, "for to-day on thy Sabbath
sixty thousand men, women, and children of New York have gathered
together to watch a baseball game."
The ruler of the realm looked and saw that 11,967 persons were watching
the Yankees and the White Sox at the Polo Grounds.
"A good husky tidal wave would confound them," urged Straton, but the
king shook his head.
"Remember the judgment you heaped upon Sodom and upon Gomorrah,"
suggested Straton.
The ruler of the realm nodded without enthusiasm. "I remember," he
said, "but as I recollect it didn't do much good."
Dr. Straton's bright hopefulness faded and the king hastened to reassure
him. "We can think up something better than that," he said, and had the
visitor been an observant man he might have noticed that the streets of
the kingdom were paved with tact. "Now there was the Tower of Babel,"
said the ruler of the realm reflectively, "that was a creative idea.
That was a doom which persisted because it had ingenuity as well as
power. That's what we need now."
Suddenly there dawned in the face of the king an idea, and it seemed to
Dr. Straton as if he were standing face to face with a sunrise. The
doctor lowered his eyes and he saw that the men and the women Sabbath
breakers of New York were all upon their feet and shouting, though to
his newly immortal senses the din came feebly. "Now," he said, with an
exultation which caused him to slip into his old pulpit manner, "let 'em
have it."
But the king with keener vision than Dr. Straton, saw that it was the
ninth inning, the score tied, runners on first and second, and Babe Ruth
coming to bat. "The time has not come," said the king, and he pushed the
doctor gently and made him give ground a little. And they waited until
two strikes had been pitched and three balls. The next one would have
cut the heart of the plate, but Babe Ruth swung and the ball rose
straight in the air. Up and up it came until it disappeared from the
view of all the players and spectators and even of the umpires. Soon a
mighty wrangle began. Miller Huggins claimed a home run and Kid Gleason
argued that the ball was foul. The umpires waited for an hour and then,
as the ball had not yet come down, Dineen was forced to make a decision
and shouted "Foul!" while the crowd booed. One of the pop bottles
injured him rather badly and there was a riot for which it was necessary
to call out the reserves. Everybody went home disgruntled and a month
later the Lusk bill abolishing Sunday baseball was passed.
And all the time the ball continued to rise until suddenly the king,
thrusting out his left hand, caught it neatly and slipped it into his
pocket. It was not a conventional pocket, for there were planets in it
and ever-lasting mercy and other things. For a long time Dr. Straton had
been awed into silence by the mighty miracle, but now he spoke,
reverently but firmly.
"I beg your pardon," he said, "but you will observe that there is a sign
in the baseball park which says 'All balls batted out of the diamond
remain the property of the New York Baseball Club and should be thrown
back!'"
The ruler of the realm smiled. "You forget," he answered, "that if I
threw the ball back from this great height it might strike a man and
kill him, it might crash through a huge office building, it might even
destroy the Calvary Baptist Church."
Then for the first time a touch of sharpness came into the voice of Dr.
Straton. "All that is immaterial," he said. "I think I know my theology
well enough to understand that law is law and right is right, come what
may."
"Oh, but it's not nearly as simple as all that," remonstrated the king.
"There are right things which are so harsh and unpleasant that they
become wrong; and wrong things which are, after all, so jolly that it's
hard not to call them right. Why, sometimes I have to stop a fraction of
a century myself to reach a decision. It's terribly complicated. The
problem is infinite. No mere man, quick or dead, has any right to be
dogmatic about it."
"Come, come," said Dr. Straton, and now there was nothing but anger in
his voice, "I've heard all those devilish arguments before. When I came
here I thought you were God and that this was Heaven. I know now that
there's been a mistake. God is no mollycoddle."
He turned on his heel and started to walk away before he remembered that
he was a Southern gentleman as well as a clergyman and bowed stiffly,
once. Then he went to the edge of the kingdom and jumped. Where he
landed it would be hard to say. Only a carefully trained theologian
could tell.