The Theology of a Blue Jays Playoff Run

When all-star catcher Alejandro Kirk hit his grand slam in the 2025 season-ending game yesterday, propelling his team toward an eventual AL East title, Toronto Blue Jays fans felt a very familiar glory—an echo of the euphoria of Joe Carter’s 1993 World Series winning homer and a re-living of the ecstasy that came with Jose Bautista’s 2015 three-run blast.  

As a faith leader, I’ve always been intrigued by the vicarious power of these moments. I wonder if the glory that we feel is a glory we’re meant to feel—human hearts and souls caught up in something bigger, people from across the country unified around one thing, all of us experiencing the splendor of a shared victory.

Because I believe that human beings are made in the image of God—that we are made to operate in ways that reflect the nature of God—this makes me wonder if God must be a baseball fan too. Could it be that our delight is reflective of our Maker’s?

Just look at the miracle of an athlete’s body—with its amazing capacity to run, throw, catch, and swing at things. Who gave George Springer the incredible late-career power that he’s been exhibiting this year? How exactly does Daulton Varsho climb an outfield wall with such perfect timing and rob his opponents of so many runs? And where in the world did Myles Straw get all that speed? 

And look at how beautiful the game itself is. You don’t have to look far into Judaism, Christianity, or Islam, to learn that God calls human beings to fill the earth with good things—with people, society, culture, sport, home runs, double plays, and split-fingered fastballs.

God gave humanity both the calling and imagination to create a game like baseball. (Well, maybe not directly, but it was inevitable!) And even as human beings can physically reflect the nature of their Maker, so too can the things they create—i.e. the game of baseball.

Take the geometry of the diamond for instance: 60 feet 6 inches from pitching rubber to home plate and 90 feet between the bases. There is something exactly right about this design. My friend Hugh Cook, an author and avid Toronto Blue Jays fan, notes, “Have you noticed how many close plays there are at first base, on grounders, and at second base, on attempted steals, or at home when a runner tries to score on an outfield single? These just-right distances allow for all these close plays to happen. It’s a perfect geometry that mirrors the perfect design of God’s creation.”

Could it be that God designed our physical world to maximize human flourishing, even as a baseball diamond’s dimensions create optimal excitement, edge, and competition? Could it be that every close play, diving catch or squeaker single you witness during this fall’s playoff games are meant to remind you of all that is “just-right” in our world?

And what about baseball’s need for players of diverse shapes, sizes, skills, and personalities?

Have the Blue Jays ever had a season where every man in the roster has, at different times in the season, and in different ways, been crucial for the team’s success? The 2025 Jays have turned ‘next man up baseball’ into an artform and have proven that great teams need all kinds of different players. They need Andrés Giménez’s gold-glove hand-eye coordination, Tommy Nance’s consistently steely nerves, and Bo Bichette’s clutch-hit determination.

In many ways a baseball team is like a body—made up of many different and necessary parts. A shortstop would never say that because he’s not a catcher he doesn’t belong to the team. Imagine a whole team made up of pitchers! Where would the defensive fielding be?

The Blue Jays need Vladimir Guerrero Jr.’s infectious playfulness as much as they need his game-changing power. They need young players like Addison Barger, Ernie Clement, and Davis Schneider, to each bring their unique breakout-season skillsets. They need Kevin Gausman’s ability to paint the corners of the strike zone, Seranthony Domínguez’s late-inning fastballs, and Brendon Little’s knuckle curves. And they need all of their coaches and management to bring wisdom to their games.

As we watch the Blue Jays go for it again this fall, maybe we could all be reminded of God’s good gift of diversity—players and fans from all different backgrounds, all gathered in one of the most multi-cultural cities in the world, all come together to share in and enjoy the game of life.

I think all sport is meant for this—an ideal venue for learning how to win and lose gracefully, how to be a community, how to play and have fun, how to steward these amazing and unique bodies we’ve been given and, through all these things, perhaps even thank God for the life we’ve been given.

Thanks to Toronto’s winning season, fans across the country have an opportunity to think about and live into these larger, existential questions.

It’s said that sport is a microcosm of life. I think it’s also a microcosm of the spiritual life.

This October we’ll be able to experience the glory again, and hopefully engage all of life more deeply.

We’ll see. But even our yearning for these kinds of experiences is instructive, I think. Blue Jays fans are made for something more.

(this article is adapted from an article I wrote for the Toronto Star in 2022)