Butler…Runner-up, but first in the heart of Americans…

With another NCAA basketball tournament behind us, so too are the many clichés that are often synonymous with March Madness. This men’s tournament, unlike any other in recent memory lived up to the billings, superlatives and various cited analogies that accompanied it. Although the three-week journey provided many story lines, Butler emerged atop the hype.

To many, Butler was little more than a nice feel-good story, a scripted Hollywood fairytale come to life. Butler played the role of “Cinderella” in this “Dance,” and many critics were waiting for the inevitable moment in which the proverbial glass slipper would fall and shatter—it's the way it usually goes when fairytales run hard into reality—but it never happened. Butler took its 25-game winning streak and was merely inches from a storybook twenty-sixth victory. Sure, the game ended with them scoring two points less than their opponent, but by no means did they lose.

The parity gap of college basketball, between the traditional powerhouse programs and the lower level tier teams is quickly closing. Not only did Butler prove its positioning among elite programs such as Syracuse and Kansas State, but it showed the nation what they already knew:  It belonged in the championship game against the likes of Duke.

Butler provided Indianapolis and America more than heroics, they provided hope. This story resonates with the American spirit and personifies the “American dream.”  They epitomized the Little Engine in the childhood story, “The Little Engine That Could.”

Still, the oft-used biblical analogy of David and Goliath seems trite here. Sure they stepped up against the giant, and sure they fearlessly fought, but they didn’t win—at least not on the court. However, they did win something arguably more important than a national championship—they won respect. Even in defeat, they held their heads high knowing that there exists victory beyond competition.

Now I’m not here to be over-zealous or over-religious in my analysis of a gutsy team performance like Butler’s; neither is it my intention to be sac-religious in my comparison, but I’m here to learn from their example:  They fought with all they had, and at the end of the day allowed the ball to bounce where it may.

I’m reminded of the likes of Joshua and Caleb of old (Numbers 13:1-14:44), who were able to see past the impossible, past the improbable, past the imposing opposition, and past the jeers of public opinion—and were focused on an enduring hope in a faithful God. It is my prayer that I, like Butler, will rise against all obstacles that come in life and see the unseen—and believe when others doubt.

Editorial