Once there was a young man of devout faith who courageously led warriors to victory on Florida’s football fields. For his feats he received the Trophy of Heisman. The scribes and songsters variously reported that the young man was an inspirational leader, a powerful runner and blocker, a mediocre passer, and an athlete with talent ill-suited to professional football.
The scribes marveled at the young man’s constant faith, his devotion to the needy, his confidence in his athletic prowess, and his determination to succeed as a leader of men. They went out into the countryside and questioned every relative and acquaintance of the young man, known as Tebow, and reported everything in the outlets of media.
In short, young Tebow became a phenomenon.
The young man journeyed to the land of Denver where he acquitted himself heroically in some contests, but erratically in others. The sports prophets quarreled among themselves about Tebow’s potential in the kingdom of National Football. The phenomenon grew to a mighty wind, but the Lord was not in the wind.
After a year’s sojourn in the west, Tebow ventured east to the land of Babel (also called “New York”), where the scribes and prophets and chroniclers were numerous. They filled many pages and hours with stories and prophecies. The name of “Tebow” echoed in every field and temple, an earthquake of commentary. But the Lord was not in the earthquake.
God looked down on the Tebow phenomenon and said, “Come, let us go down and confuse their language so they will not understand each other” (Genesis 11:7). And it was so. The priests and scribes, the captains and bowmen, the fathers and mothers, the daughters and sons were questioned about young Tebow. Is Tebow a good teammate? Will Tebow replace the captain of eleven warriors? Will Tebow cause the downfall of the commander of 50? Will Tebow become a new part of speech? Their language became a raging firestorm. But the Lord was not in the fire.
In the din of Babel, the young man remained steadfast in his dream of leading professional warriors in battle. He spoke respectfully of his captain and commander and fellow warriors. He visited the temple and continued to serve those in need. He perceived God was testing him.
In the fullness of time, Tebow encountered the High Priest Belichick of New England, who was wise in the ways of scribes and prophets and songsters. Belichick often confounded the questions of the scribes with his empty words. Throughout the kingdom he was known for faithfully revealing nothing. The high priest offered young Tebow a lowly position among his regiment of 90, a great demotion for the former winner of the Trophy of Heisman.
But Tebow knew he had been called by the still, bland monotone of Belichick. He accepted the call to be clipboard-carrier for Brady, the vaunted prince of the forward pass. He retreated to the wilderness of Foxboro, land of the inscrutable Patriots, solemn warriors who spoke only the cryptic language of the High Priest Belichick.
And he sojourned there for a season.