Everyone should play chess.

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Not just because it sharpens your mind or improves your logic, but because it humbles you. You sit there, you study the board, you take your time. You feel confident. You make a move you’re sure is right… and then five seconds later, you see it. The mistake. In Chess it is known as a Blunder. The one you’d take back instantly if you could. The one that makes you wonder how you didn’t see it coming from a mile away. And it’s not just once. It keeps happening. You start to realize something uncomfortable: maybe I don’t see the board as clearly as I think I do. And that’s the point. Because if that’s true in a simple game… what about my life?

How many decisions have I made thinking, “I’ve got this figured out”? How many times have I been completely confident… only to realize later I was wrong? How many moves have I made that I wish I could take back?

That experience in chess, it exposes something deeper in us. We like to believe we’re in control. We like to believe we see clearly, that we understand the situation, that we’re making the right call. But the truth is, we have blind spots. Big ones. And the dangerous part is, we don’t see them. That’s where this connects to our lives as men trying to grow, trying to be forged into something stronger. Because growth starts with humility. It starts with the realization: I might not be as right as I think I am.

There’s a line from Letter to the Romans where St. Paul says, “I do not do the good I want, but I do the evil I do not want.” That’s the chess moment. That’s the blunder you regret after the choice has been made. You knew better… and somehow you still missed it. And if we’re honest, we’ve all been there. We’ve made decisions out of pride, out of impulse, out of distraction. We’ve convinced ourselves something was harmless, or justified, or even good, only to realize later it wasn’t. Like in chess, the consequence doesn’t always show up immediately… but when it does, it’s obvious. Painfully obvious.

So what do we do with that? Because the answer isn’t to stop playing. In chess, you don’t quit because you made a bad move, you learn. You study. You start to recognize patterns. You listen to people who are better than you. You begin to see what you couldn’t see before.

And slowly, your vision changes. That’s the life we’re called to live. We’re not meant to rely on our own understanding alone. We’re not meant to just “figure it out” as we go and trust that we’ll always get it right. Because we won’t. Chess proves that pretty quickly.

Instead, we’re called to be formed. To be shaped by truth.

In this realization you can understand the need for The Church on matters of authority. Think of our three sources of authority as a three-legged stool. No single source is more important than any other and they all work together in a cohesive and unitive way. The Core Components of Church Authority are listed below:

  • Scripture: The Bible is the inspired Word of God

  • Tradition: Early Church Fathers writings. Those closest to Jesus

  • Magisterium: The teaching office of the Church, consisting of the Pope and bishops, which provides authoritative interpretation of the Word of God.

Chess offers us a reminder that you don’t see everything perfectly clearly independently is not a weakness, it’s an invitation. An invitation to grow. An invitation to be formed. An invitation to trust something greater than yourself. Because the most dangerous place to be isn’t making mistakes, it’s thinking you’re above making them. And chess… has a way of reminding you that you’re not.

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