Football and Worship
“It’s only weird if it doesn’t work.” That new,
hilariously true slogan by Budweiser has gotten me thinking about how we as
Americans watch football. The commercials—if you have seen them—portray devoted
fans of various football teams going through elaborate rituals that they
believe will help their team win. We find them funny because they are so true.
We wear our team apparel on game day, we shut our eyes, pace, paint our faces, pray,
kiss our wives for the number of downs, anything to help our team. On the first
game of this season, I elected to not drink the only beer in our fridge—a Bud Light
lime—because the opposing team’s colors were green and I didn’t want to support
them by drinking a green beer. It worked right? The 49ers beat the Packers.
Here’s the thing. It bothers me that I think I had
anything to do with it. Any sane, rational analysis would quickly reveal that my
choice of beverage had zero effect on the outcome of a game played over a
thousand miles away by 104 professional athletes and untold support staff and
coaches. Seriously, it is a problem if I’m believing this. We laugh off the
commercials as cute superstition, but we do the same thing. And I think it
crosses over the line of being superstition to something more: It has become a
religious experience. Rather, let me put it more bluntly: Football is a religion, and the various teams
form the pantheon of gods we worship each promising a share in their glory and
joy if they win.
Now some of you reading this just rolled your
metaphysical eyes. “Not me,” you say. But I ask that you keep an open mind and
keep reading; I suspect that all or part of this applies to you.
My thesis is that football has become a true and
verifiable religion in this country. But before I can prove my thesis—or before
you can adequately confirm this does not apply to you—we need to define what a
Religion is. Perhaps the broadest, most helpful definition is this: A religion
is a set of beliefs one holds, and the actions they take based on those beliefs.
Those actions are designed to help achieve goals that are physical (if I pray 5
times a day facing East I will be healed of my cancer) or metaphysical (if I
follow Jesus I will go to heaven).
I think the way we watch football fits nicely into
that definition. We subconsciously—or consciously—believe in our teams and that
we can change the outcome of the games they play. See if you have done any of
the following actions in the belief that you will enjoy the glory of an NFL
victory.
-We Tithe: some pay exorbitant sums for
cable channels that show their games (NFL network, ESPN, NFL Sunday ticket, etc.).
Or others (this has been my choice) realize it is cheaper to go out to a bar
and buy drinks and appetizers for 3 hours to watch their team than pay for
cable. Both are a weekly tithe to your god of choice.
-We wear holy garments. Like the priests
and holy men and women of many religions, football fans don sanctified clothes
for weekly worship. Instead of robes or special head coverings designed to please
God, we wear our jerseys, official team hats, and logoed apparel to please our
team. Strangely, here in Denver, when the Broncos are playing on Sunday I see jerseys
in church-lots of them. When they play on Monday, the jerseys aren’t worn in
church. When the Broncos play during church hours, the people themselves are
gone.
-We study and memorize holy writ. Anyone
who has taken a fantasy football league seriously does not need to have me
explain the connection between stats, sports columns, and sport center to Scripture.
Fantasy players study stats with more fervor than many pastors study the Bible.
-We pray. True it might not look like
other prayer you have done, but it is prayer nonetheless. For important plays,
we may not drop to our knees but we assume attentive postures on the couch. We
may not have a rosary or face Mecca, but we engage in our rituals (as seen on
Budweiser ads) believing the gods of football hear us. We believe in our
hearts, do not doubt, and hope fervently for the outcomes we desire. If it
works we do it again, if not, we find a more effective prayer style.
-We start holy wars with other religions. Why
on earth would anyone find cause to commit murder over a football game if it
weren’t a religion? Two years ago, a pack of Raider zealots murdered a 49er fan
after a preseason game. Why are all Broncos fans taught from birth to hate
Chiefs fans (this rule is applied to many other rivalries)? Why should it ever
be okay to hate anyone? I even had a
friend who had come to a point where he wanted to become a Christian, but chose
not to because church was on Sunday and he would miss the morning games. His
religion of football was incompatible with Christianity. (A year and a half
later he gave up his football idols and gave his life to Christ).
-It Changes our character.
Unfortunately, unlike Christianity, Football worship does not create humility,
charity, and love in its followers. Last year, I watched a 49ers game in a
local bar in Spokane and saw two men fold their hands and pray before their
meal. These two men proceeded to curse me out in 4-letter words when I cheered
for the 49ers instead of the Seahawks. I had to send students into the hallway
during class for picking fights with other non-Seahawk fans. It got to the
point in January where I would not wear red in public because I was tired of
being persecuted for rooting for the wrong team. I used to love the Seahawks
during the Sean Alexander days; they were my second favorite team. The new,
bloodthirsty fans drove me away from their team because they were so mean—worse
than it ever was growing up with Raider fans all around, mind you. Just like
many people are turned off to Jesus because His followers are equally
hypocritical or just plain dislikable. (My apologies to the many wonderful Seahawk
fans who are not like this, my teacher friends, as well as DB, ZC, etc. The
vocal—yet exponentially growing—minority has given you a bad name. I hope to
cheer for your team again when you get them back under control). It changes my
character too. In real life I would never cheer if I watched someone hit
another as hard as they can. But I do in football.
For many of us football is a religion. You know it’s true. For me, as a follower of Jesus,
I would call it an idol. Like any imitation god, football can’t provide what it
promises: the lasting joy and glory of ultimate victory. All it really provides
is a fleeting happiness that fades oh so quickly, or a depression that lasts
far too long. I know both of these all too well. I was honestly depressed for
two solid weeks when Kyle Williams fumbled two punts to give the NFC
championship to the Giants two years ago. And my happiness when we won a crazy
game in Atlanta to go to the Superbowl last year was gone in a matter of hours.
Don’t fool yourself. Football can be fun to watch, but
when it begins to consume you, change you, and take the place of the true God,
then it might be time to switch to the food network. I am struggling with this
myself. I love watching the Niners, but I might need to give up football,
because I fear it is taking the place of the One I should worship.
-R
P.S. This weekend, as a birthday celebration, K and I
are going to a bar in downtown Denver that has become a “49ers” bar due to an
influx of fans. Of course, I’m not perfect, but I will be more cognizant of my
thoughts and actions regarding the game, outcome, and other fans.
