Super bowl champions everywhere

In my childhood home we had a crystal bowl big enough to hold two footballs. It was a family heirloom that was brought out only on special occasions, such as Christmas, when it would be filled with an English trifle deep and rich enough to feed a whole football team. Or when we celebrated the arrival of a new baby, or someone's success in exams or on the playing field.

I called this our family super bowl, because I associated it with occasions redolent with love, gratitude, lasting achievements, an overflow of happiness. I'd grown up learning that such qualities have their source in God, who made all that was good, and this approach somehow put a higher stamp of approval on what we were celebrating or giving gratitude for.

However, since I came to live in the United States 19 years ago, there's been another Super Bowl in many life. And like it or not, this one gets a lot more attention than the bowl I left back home — though I would dispute that it represents anything more important than that crystal repository of worthy thoughts.

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Watching South Asia—with prayer
January 31, 2005
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