The Call That Grace Overturned

On June 2, 2010, Detroit Tigers pitcher Armando Galarraga stood one out from perfection. Twenty-six batters retired in order. Then Cleveland's Jason Donald hit a routine ground ball to first. Miguel Cabrera fielded it, tossed to Galarraga covering the bag. Out. Perfect game. Except umpire Jim Joyce called the runner safe. Replays showed it wasn't even close — Donald was out by half a step. The perfect game was gone.

What Galarraga did next stunned the baseball world. He didn't scream. He didn't throw his glove. He smiled. He walked back to the mound and retired the next batter to finish a one-hit shutout.

After the game, Joyce watched the replay and broke down in tears. "I took something from that kid," he told reporters. The next afternoon, Galarraga hand-delivered the lineup card to Joyce at home plate. The two men shook hands. The crowd rose to its feet.

Galarraga had every right to rage. The record books would never credit his perfect game. But he understood something that Scripture makes plain: forgiveness doesn't mean the wrong didn't happen. It means the wrong doesn't get the final word.

Paul writes, "Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you" (Ephesians 4:32). The Almighty doesn't wait for us to deserve grace. Neither did Galarraga. He offered it freely — and in doing so, gave the world something more lasting than a perfect game. He gave them a picture of mercy.