“If someone is gracious enough to give me a second chance, I won’t need a third.”
–Pete Rose, Major League Baseball’s all-time-hits record holder

For two baseball families and many baseball fans, there was big news last month. Major League Baseball’s commissioner’s office removed Pete Rose and Shoeless Joe Jackson from the lifetime ineligibility list. Both had been banned due to allegations of gambling on baseball, a dagger to the heart of any player or manager who’s caught.

Rob Manfred, MLB’s Commissioner, explained how the decision came about. His rationale was that, with Rose’s recent death and Jackson’s death almost seventy-five years ago, both men had effectively served lifetime bans. There was no need to continue the ban on either of them.

Rose and Jackson made mistakes, and they paid dearly for them–certain election to baseball’s Hall of Fame and, more importantly, the shame associated with their scandalous activities. Who among us hasn’t done the same? Not likely on or around the baseball diamond, but at work, in our marriages, or in our personal lives. And who would want a mistake to define their life? None of us, I would guess.

As the saying goes, those who don’t learn from their mistakes are doomed to repeat them. It’s incumbent to recognize the mistake and learn from it, but being granted forgiveness affords us the chance for a do-over, or mulligan–a course correction, if you will. Isn’t that something we all covet?

One of the toughest things we’re called to do is forgive someone for an egregious transgression. We’re human. We don’t like to be slighted, lied to, cheated, or slandered. But as believers, we’re challenged to forgive, with the example set by Jesus himself, who forgave his own people for prosecuting his crucifixion. Can we not call on “the better angels of our nature” to do the same for far less slights?

Mind you, we’re not called to forget necessarily, but to forgive. And with that forgiveness, not only do we bless the recipient, but that act of kindness then blesses us to be a blessing.

For those who think the ban should have remained in place, Manfred was merciful; that is, the players didn’t get what they deserved–a permanent ban.

For the folks who were glad to learn of the lifting of the ban, Manfred’s action was one of grace. The players got what they didn’t deserve–reinstatement and a mulligan on eligibility for the Hall of Fame. Rose didn’t live to see it, but his request for a mulligan, and implicitly for grace, was finally granted.

Wouldn’t we want that same grace for ourselves?