Deacon Jude Tam Tran

THERE IS BASEBALL IN HEAVEN!

“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.” — Proverbs 17:17
“Two are better than one… If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.” — Ecclesiastes 4:9–10

Every afternoon, as the late sun filtered through the swaying branches of the park’s old oak trees, two elderly men—Abe Kaplan and Sol Bernstein—sat on the same weathered bench. It had become their sanctuary over the years, a little island of peace carved out of the noise of life.

There they fed the pigeons, talked about baseball, and argued lovingly over whose team had the better pitcher, the sharper coach, or the more promising rookie.

To strangers passing by, Abe and Sol probably looked like just two old guys clinging to routine. But to each other, these daily meetings were something sacred. They were brothers in everything but blood—bound by memories, shared laughter, and the unspoken comfort of having someone who understood your stories before you even finished telling them.

One warm afternoon, after they watched a particularly feisty pigeon try to bully the others away from a handful of breadcrumbs, Abe leaned back and sighed.

“Sol,” he said thoughtfully, “do you think there’s baseball in heaven?”

Sol squinted, as if heaven were somewhere between the tree branches and he just needed to focus harder to see it.

“Baseball in heaven?” he echoed. “I dunno, Abe. Never thought that far. Maybe the angels got better things to do.”

Abe chuckled. “Better things than baseball? What could possibly be better than baseball?”

Sol shrugged. “Fair.”

A moment of silence passed between them, the kind of silence only long friendship can comfortably hold. Then Sol nudged him with an elbow.

“Tell you what. If I die first, I’ll come back and tell you if there’s baseball in heaven. And if you go first, you come back and tell me. That way we’ll both know.”

Abe grinned. “Deal.”

They shook on it, sealing the pact with the solemnity of two boys making a promise behind a sandlot fence.

Life, however, has its way of keeping promises sooner than we expect. Just three months later, Abe passed away peacefully in his sleep. His daughter called Sol with the news, and though Sol had known it was coming—Abe’s cough had gotten deeper, his walks slower—it still hit him with the blunt force of finality.

The next afternoon, Sol returned to their bench, holding the same bag of breadcrumbs, though his hands trembled more than usual. The pigeons gathered, as if confused by the missing half of the ritual. Sol tossed crumbs, but he felt more alone than he had in decades. The oak trees swayed, but the air felt heavier without Abe’s humor cutting through it.

“You old fool,” Sol muttered under his breath, “you didn’t even wait for the World Series.”

But grief has a way of softening time, and days passed in a slow blur. Sol kept coming to the bench. It was where he felt closest to his friend.

One afternoon, as the sun dipped below the tree line and the park grew quiet, Sol suddenly heard a faint whisper.

“Sol… Sol…”

He froze, breadcrumbs slipping through his fingers.

“Abe? Is that… you?”

“Yes, it is, Sol,” came the gentle, familiar whisper.

A mixture of fear, wonder, and overwhelming relief washed over Sol.

“I can’t believe it,” he breathed. “So, tell me—tell me, is there baseball in heaven?”

Abe hesitated, then spoke softly. “Well, I’ve got good news and bad news.”

Sol rolled his eyes, just like old times. “Fine. Gimme the good news first.”

Abe answered, “There is baseball in heaven.”

Sol felt a smile stretch across his face for the first time in weeks.

“That’s wonderful! What news could possibly ruin that?”

There was a pause, the kind that carries both love and apology.

Abe whispered, “Sol… you’re pitching on Friday.”

The story is humorous, even lighthearted. Yet beneath the laughter is a tender truth: friendship is one of the most sacred gifts we’re given in this life. The kind of friendship Abe and Sol shared—unconditional, patient, and rich with memories—is a reflection of something eternal.

The Bible reminds us of this truth:
“A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.” — Proverbs 17:17

And in another place:
“Two are better than one… If either of them falls down, one can help the other up.” — Ecclesiastes 4:9–10

Abe and Sol’s treasure wasn’t the baseball stats they argued over, the park bench they sat on, or the pigeons that gathered around their feet. Their treasure was the quiet loyalty they shared, the companionship that outlived their aches, and the bond strong enough to stretch into eternity.

Even the humorous twist at the end—Sol being assigned to pitch in heaven—carries a comforting truth. It reflects a God who understands the language of our joy. A God who meets us not just in our prayers but in our humor, in our memories, and in the moments that shaped our friendships. A God who knows that sometimes grief is softened best with a familiar voice sharing a familiar joke from the other side of eternity.

In the midst of our busy schedules, rushing from one responsibility to the next, it’s easy to overlook the small miracles woven into everyday life. The friend who calls to check on us. The neighbor who waves each morning. The coworker who listens. The spouse who sits with us in silence. The child who makes us laugh.

These are not interruptions to life—they are life.

From Abe and Sol we learn that love does not end, that friendship can outlive time, and that laughter can reach us even from the other side of eternity. Their story invites us to cherish the people who sit on the “park benches” of our lives—those who show up day after day, feeding pigeons with us, listening to our stories, and letting us be imperfect.

So today, take a moment to appreciate the people God has placed in your life. Call the friend you’ve been meaning to call. Forgive the person you’ve been avoiding. Laugh a little more. Love a little harder. Treasure the relationships that warm your soul, because those are the ones that echo into eternity.

For in the end, heaven may indeed have baseball—but it will also have something far greater: the friendships we nurtured on earth, carried gently into the presence of God.

And who knows?

If you listen closely enough…you might just hear someone whisper your name from heaven someday, with good news—and maybe a little joke to remind you were never forgotten.