The Handshake That Changed Baseball

On April 15, 1947, Jackie Robinson stepped onto Ebbets Field as the first Black man to play Major League Baseball. The abuse was relentless — racial slurs from the stands, death threats in the mail, spikes aimed at his ankles by opposing players. Even some of his own Brooklyn Dodgers teammates petitioned against him.

Robinson had every right to rage. Instead, he had made a covenant with Branch Rickey: "I want a player with guts enough not to fight back." For two years, Robinson absorbed hatred without retaliation — not because he was weak, but because he understood that some battles are won through restraint.

What strikes me most is what happened later. Robinson didn't just endure his enemies — he forgave them. Pee Wee Reese, the Kentucky shortstop who initially said nothing while teammates circulated that petition, eventually walked across the diamond and put his arm around Robinson's shoulders. Robinson received that gesture. He didn't say, "Where were you six months ago?" He let grace do its slow, holy work.

Forgiveness rarely looks like a single dramatic moment. More often it looks like Jackie Robinson — absorbing the wound, refusing to let bitterness take root, and leaving room for people to become better than their worst moment.

The Apostle Paul wrote, "Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you." That forgiveness cost Robinson everything. It cost Christ even more. And it is freely offered to every one of us today.