Whenever anyone in “in extremis” (whether it is a marital crisis, an economic crisis, a political crisis, or a health crisis), their chances of survival are far greater when their horizons are formed of projected images from their own imagination rather than being limited by what they can actually see. Or, to reverse it, to the extent the horizons of individuals “in extremis” are limited to what they can actually see, their chances of survival are far less than if their horizons include projected images from their own imagination. Actually, even the thinking processes that lead one to assume that one’s life situation is “in extremis” are partially determined by the breadth of one’s horizons at the time – which, of course, correlates with one’s imaginative capacity and sense of adventure.
Edwin Friedman, A Failure of Nerve: leadership in the age of the quick fix (153)

Sitting in Chicago’s O’Hare airport on Friday waiting to return home following a denominational committee meeting, I finished reading Friedman’s book, which I referred to a couple of weeks ago. I would not be surprised, even with all the mass of humanity gathered at O’Hare that day, if I was the only one reading Friedman’s book.

Last night, however, my activity was far from unique. With millions of Americans, I watched the Super Bowl. Tom Petty at halftime was great – I have been listening to his music for years and still have some on vinyl. The game was one of the best Super Bowl games ever. Often such games are over within the first quarter. This game remained competitive until the very end. With the New England Patriots high-powered offense, you could never count them out until the final second of the game. By now you know, if you care to know at all, that the Patriots were upset by the New York Giants 17-14. Few people gave the Giants a realistic chance, but they won. As the cliché goes, that’s why they play the game.

On paper the Giants were no match for the Patriots. The Patriots were undefeated going into the game. Their offense set all kinds of records this year. They have many Pro Bowl players, and the team was well-stocked with Super Bowl veterans. The Giants squeaked into the playoffs as a wild card team, have on one Pro Bowl player, and most had never been in a Super Bowl before. If they had really taken stock of the situation, if they had been hard-headed realists, they would have known that they could not win. The best they might hope for was to make this a good game. Instead, they included in their horizons the improbable notion that if they played their hearts out, if they played with skill and intelligence and passion, they just might win. They didn’t even need Rabbi Friedman in the locker room to convince them that imagination is vitally important, and a sense of adventure contributes to how one manages difficult situations. They were running down a dream (Tom Petty) and caught it.

One of the wonderful things about a game like this is that it now becomes a part of our own imaginative field. The story of the great upset can feed our own sense of adventure, provide inspiration for our own imaginations, so that we can face difficult situations with a broader horizon, with an enriched imaginative capacity.

Imagination and hope are powerful for our lives, for churches (and denominations), for our politics and for our world. We cannot ignore the difficulties around us (health issues in our lives, economic downturns, declining and aging membership in mainline denominations), but our chances of making a positive difference in the midst of them and of working for positive change are increased when our imaginative horizons are widened. The Super Bowl is only a game, but last night’s game offers something to our imaginations.

With Faith and With Feathers,

David