All work and no play make Jack a dull Christian.” I remember my dad saying that on numerous occasions. Not that he neglected work. He was disciplined in his use of time and faithful in his pastoral calling. He preached two sermons every week, served for many terms on the Foreign Mission Board and the Jewish Mission Board, and gave himself completely as camp manager and booster of White Lake Camp for many years.

But he loved to play games. If you came to our house for dinner, there would not only be family worship, but singing around the piano and playing games. If there was one game that my dad liked best, it was croquinole (or crokinole).

Usually, croquinole is played on the back of a carrom board and looks like the diagram on this page. Four people may play. Each player sits square with the board and shoots, in turn, one of six wooden rings with the object of landing in the center pocket and/or knocking his opponents’ rings off the board. When all have played, the rings still on the board are tallied. It is a game of skill, but most people can learn quickly.

My dad enjoyed introducing the game, and did so with enthusiasm. Uninitiated guests were easily drawn into this competition, and, while wary at first, soon became excited and joined wholeheartedly in the play. Since it is not a game that demands quiet preparation for shots or complicated scoring, there is plenty of opportunity for conversation and refreshments, and the pace is not demanding. There are always opportunities to share interests or express concerns.

In the context of playing croquinole, we really got to know some people better, and it helped to open the door to more serious conversation. There were some who revealed needs or parts of their personality of which we were not previously aware.

The late Professor John Murray is known to many of you as a former professor of systematic theology at Westminster Theological Seminary. His books are a tremendous work in defense of the Reformed faith. When I was a boy, he frequently attended my dad’s congregation, the Second Church of the Covenanters (Reformed Presbyterian Church) in downtown Philadelphia. He came because of his commitment to exclusive psalmody and a cappella singing. He also made special efforts to attend on communion Sabbaths because he approved of our custom of going forward and sitting at the table to observe the sacrament. My dad would frequently call upon him to lead in prayer, and I still am blessed as I remember his fervency and use of Scripture in prayer.

One evening Professor Murray was invited to our home for dinner. We had a delightful time at the table and then had family worship. After a while, my dad, true to form, suggested that we play croquinole. You could see that Professor Murray was not sure what to expect, but he took his place at the game table. It was a great experience. When it was his turn, he would back up, lean over, sight his shot from several angles, and then shoot. His first two shots were pretty good, but, after lining up the third shot, he missed completely the ring that he was aiming to knock off the board. He slapped his thigh and laughed uproariously. This happened quite a few times. He just relaxed and enjoyed playing. We saw another side of Professor Murray than we had ever seen before. It only increased our appreciation of our friendship with him.

In God’s grace, when I had been only two years old, we had moved from an apartment in downtown Philadelphia to our new home just a block away from six tennis courts, a baseball field, a soccer field, and a wading pool. My dad had supplied baseball gloves, tennis rackets, basketballs, a ping pong table, and encouragement in the use of them. But he had done it in the context of a Christian home in which Christ was exalted as Head of the home, and in which God used him and my mother to lead me to know and to love Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior.

In his love for me and in his close relationship with Christ, he helped me to see the Lordship of Christ in all of life, including play.