Triumphs I’ve Known

by Rev. Terry Davis

Delivered at Northwest Unitarian Universalist

Congregation on February 24, 2013

There was a staple television show in my home on Saturday afternoons when I was a kid. The show always began with trumpets blaring and a familiar male announcer declaring these words: “Spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety of sports . . . the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.” The show, for those of you who are old enough to remember, was ABC’s Wide World of Sports. The music was a rousing score by American composer Charles Fox. And the announcer for those opening words was the iconic television sports journalist Jim McKay.

Having watched that show many, many times from our family room sofa, what I remember most vividly about the introduction were the video clips that played during McKay’s dramatic opening words. I had to go to YouTube this past weekend to remind myself of the images that played while McKay was reciting the words “the thrill of victory.” There were two – one of an athlete being carried on the shoulders of his cheering teammates, and the other of an athlete with a laurel wreath around his neck, smiling as he shakes and uncorks a bottle of champagne.

However, I needed no reminder of the video image that played while Jim McKay said the words “the agony of defeat.” Burned indelibly in my mind was that painful scene of a ski jumper speeding down a long, sloping ramp, only to lose control and spectacularly wipe out before reaching the bottom. The athlete tumbles and flips over mercilessly. There are a few painful seconds of legs, arms and skis going in seemingly opposite directions, before he sails off the edge of the ramp and crashes near the spectators below. Wow! No defeat in my child’s mind could possibly have looked more agonizing than the one suffered by that poor skier.

I learned that, years later, ABC held an event to celebrate the 20^th anniversary of the Wide World of Sports. And, they invited that skier, whose name was Vinko Bogataj, to attend. Once Bogataj arrived in the United States from what was then his country of Yugoslavia, he was greeted by many fans, including World Boxing Champion Muhammad Ali, who said he wanted to shake hands with the “agony of defeat.”^[1]

After researching this slice of American pop culture for today’s sermon, I became fascinated with how this televised sports mishap had become an icon for bad luck and misfortune. What I didn’t know, of course, is whatever happened to that poor guy who fell down the slope and out of obscurity. Was he okay? Yes, it turns out he suffered only a mild concussion. Did he ever ski again? Yes, he did, but apparently he never repeated the success he had before the crash – perhaps due to the fact that he was now a much more cautious athlete. And, lastly, was there some triumph hidden in his disaster?

The answer to that question, it seems, wasn’t revealed in the news stories and articles I read . . . at least, not directly. Bogataj, it appears, retired from competitive skiing and became a ski jump instructor and a forklift operator. He still lives today in his small home town in Slovenia, is married with children and likes painting and woodcarving – a quiet and unassuming life, it seems, after a very public and spectacular moment of failure.

So, where is the triumph? On the surface, it appears that following Bogataj’s crash there was no personal accomplishment that matched the drama and spectacle of his agonizing defeat. We can imagine that he experienced the professional satisfaction of coaching other ski jumpers. We can hope he has the personal satisfaction of being happily married, of raising two daughters, of finding a creative and meditative outlet in painting and woodcarving. In these respects, perhaps his extraordinary defeat led him to a simpler and more satisfactory life.

We might all be saying to ourselves, of course there is triumph in an ordinary everyday life. Of course we can experience victory in the warmth of new friendships or through the support of a community that we can count on to lend us help when we need it.

These were the triumphs in Katie’s and Hannah’s stories. These are the triumphs that are small in gesture, but enormous in impact. These are the triumphs that, bit by bit, build our faith in human kindness and goodness . . . triumphs that give us hope that a seemingly bleak future will give way to new promise.

We need these little life moments perhaps more than we might ever need that one big glorious triumph when we are carried off on the shoulders of our teammates or bursting open that celebratory bottle of champagne.

John Steinbeck wrote, “Somewhere in the world there is a defeat for everyone. Some are destroyed by defeat, and some made small and mean by victory. Greatness lives in one who triumphs equally over defeat and victory.”^[2] Steinbeck’s quote is a reminder that human triumph is chiefly a matter of character rather than a matter of outcome. It’s a reminder that greatness can be found not in the outcome of an event, but, rather, in our response to it. Defeat can be triumphant if it leads us to greater humility, gratitude, or kindness. And, conversely, a triumph can be about the failure of the human spirit if it lacks these three principles.

If you think about it, don’t we admire the humble acceptance speech? The person who sticks close to his or her foundational values? Don’t we appreciate people who don’t let their age or their position in life get in the way of making friends with anyone, helping out anyone, or saying a kind word to anyone?

As a society, we like seeing this in our athletes and in our government and business leaders. We like seeing people who aren’t spoiled by fame and fortune or aren’t destroyed by their failings. We like seeing people who are able to hold on to their humility and who remember that we’re all just human beings.

Who are those people in your lives? Who shows you what it means to triumph equally over defeat and victory? I was struck by Katie and Hannah’s response when we discussed today’s service. They chose to write about you – about the teens and adults here at Northwest who helped them overcome the loneliness and reassure them that they had kind and loving support.

I think it says a lot about the power of this community . . . about the persons you are and the persons you are teaching your children to become. It says that kindness, compassion and a spirit of community are at the center of what you do here. It says that a spirit of “we” triumphs over everything else.

Isn’t this what being a Unitarian Universalist is all about? Doesn’t being a Unitarian Universalist mean that we place love and generosity at the center of what we do, always? That these are more important than whether or not we share a common theology, common interests, common backgrounds, or a common point of view?

Hannah reminded us that, in the words of Albert Einstein, “in the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.” The agony of defeat need not be ours if we see within in it an opportunity to be reconnected to our humanity and to others who support our journey of joy and pain. And, by staying connected to our humanity and to each other, says Katie, we can then experience our everyday triumphs as nothing less than miracles.

May we all experience the greatest dimensions of the human heart and spirit in the way we respond to life’s triumphs and defeats . . . responses grounded in humility, gratitude, kindness and love.

May it be so. Amen.