A Life and Death Moment

 Something unusual happened last week. On Monday evening, January 2.  With 5:58 remaining in the first quarter, Bengals quarterback Joe Burrow threw a screen pass to wide receiver Tee Higgins who sprinted around the right end.  Bills safety, Damar Hamlin made an open field tackle. It appeared to be a routine play in a routine NFL game. Following the tackle, Damar Hamlin jumped to his feet then collapsed.

 In a matter of seconds everything changed.  Damar Hamlin was not merely shaken up or injured.  His heart had stopped. Without immediate intervention, he would be dead. Medical personnel immediately started administering CPR. An ambulance was called.

 Shock swept through the players on the field and the spectators in the stands. Athletes began to weep.  Both teams gathered on the field and fell to their knees, praying for their teammate.  Joe Burrow and Josh Allen, opposing quarterbacks, embraced each other.  A hush fell over the packed stadium.

 For the first time in NFL history, the game was suspended.  Everyone was charged with emotion. Everyone called for prayer.  Commentators prayed on live TV.  Thousands prayed in the stands.  Players on both teams, including Damar Hamlin’s close friends and those who did not know him, prayed.  After an hour, fans exited the stadium like mourners leaving a funeral. The lights were turned out and darkness enveloped the stadium. The field that moments before vibrated with the thunder of competition now lay empty and silent. The game was cancelled.  ESPN commentators Joe Buck and Troy Aikman struggled to find words.  According to Buck, “This went from a sporting event to a matter of life and death like that.”  Aikman said, “This puts football in perspective. ... Prayers are with the Hamlin family.”

 Why did this moment grip those who were there?  Why has it gripped our nation? 

 Perhaps it was because our deepest need is not competition, but compassion.  The men on that field were trained to compete, to win at all costs.  But, at that moment on January 2, compassion was far more important than competition. Damar Hamlin was little known among the hundreds of NFL players before he collapsed.  A week later, coaches and staff wore sweatshirts that proclaimed, “Love For Damar #3.” Russell Wilson of the Broncos and Derwin James of the Chargers met at midfield, both wearing #3, took a knee, bowed their heads and prayed before their game Sunday.  Josh Allen, the Bills quarterback choked up saying, “I was going around to my teammates saying, ‘God’s real!’” On Monday, January 9, Hamlin was released from the Cincinnati hospital. 

 Perhaps it was because this moment brought us face-to-face with our own mortality. Players in the NFL are looked upon as invincible. Young men in the prime of life and peak condition.  Damar Hamlin is 24 years old.  Damar’s collapse reminded us we are always one heartbeat away from eternity.  My wife’s oldest brother died of a heart attack while tending his garden.  Her other brother died of a heart attack while camping. The night after Thanksgiving in 1986, her mother died in her sleep.  We buried her sister less than 4 months ago.  My father was 53 when I held his hand, and he drew his last breath. We are all mortal. For all of us, there comes a time when only faith and prayer remain.