I am writing this
during the 2014 NCAA basketball tournament. As I sit at my desk, I am
wearing some fan gear telling the world about my allegiance to the
University of Kentucky Wildcats. It's in my blood.
By the time I was
eight years old, I knew that Cawood Ledford, the voice of the
Wildcats, was the greatest play-by-play announcer of all time. I soon
learned the only way to watch one of those rare games on TV was to
turn the sound down and let Cawood call it.
I learned that
fandom from my mother and my aunt, both of whom loved the Wildcats
and made sure they could listen to or watch every game that was on
the air.
Before television
started making out the schedules to ensure those in the Eastern and
Central time zones would see games at somewhat reasonable hours, I
actually set my alarm to get up in time to watch the Wildcats play
the championship game of the Great Alaska Shootout at 2 a.m.
Repeat, 2 a.m.
Crazy. I know.
A few hours after I
write this, my beloved Wildcats will be taking on, for fans at least,
the most bitter rival of them all, the Louisville Cardinals, for the
right to advance in the tournament.
As much as I love
the Wildcats, my wife, who I love very deeply, has an affection for
the Cardinals. Today, as we were out and about tending to some
errands accompanying an impending move, she proudly wore a Louisville
wind shirt while I sported some Kentucky attire.
We had a few funny
looks. Some people jokingly asked questions or made comments.
It was all in fun,
but there are some who take it very seriously. Too seriously.
I have read
accounts of people forking over more than a thousand dollars for a
seat close to the floor in Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis.
Kentucky coach John Calipari noted that those whose team loses will
grieve until the next time the teams play and the winners will
celebrate.
He's right.
And it is all over
a basketball game. A big game, no doubt, but still a game.
I have made my
living writing about sports full time for 12 years. Before that, I
put in about 17 years typing away as a paid hobby. Yet, over that
time, I have become much more keenly aware of the extremes some fans
go to.
And I have
wondered, “What would the world be like if we cared as much about
the work of Jesus Christ as we do about what the Wildcats, Cardinals
or any other team do on or off the playing field?”
I have seen people
who somehow can't find the time to worship drive hundreds of miles to
see a game. What about the person who is so tired and can't take
sitting at church somehow find the energy to not only make it to the
game but actively cheer their team and pointedly berate the officials
at the game.
What if we were as
enthused to worship as we are to cheer our favorite team?
As I saw so many
people wearing Kentucky or Louisville gear – and surprisingly a few
Michigan fans in central Kentucky – I could not help but think of
Paul's words in Galatians 3:26-27, “So in Christ Jesus you are all
children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into
Christ have clothed yourself with Christ.”
What if we were as
concerned about those who are lost without Jesus Christ as we are
about where a great high school athlete decides to attend college or
what pro team will draft the college star?
I think we all know
the answer.
There's really
nothing wrong with cheering a team on. When we have diversions from
the pressures of every day life, it can be good. If there were little
interest in sports, I would not have a job at which I have achieved
some success.
Even the apostle
Paul refers to the Christian life as a race (Hebrews 12, I Cor. 9)
and uses the analogy of a boxer (I Cor. 9). These are among many
instances of Paul using athletic metaphors in the New Testament.
If he were writing
today, he could perhaps find a spiritual truth in the quest for The
Final Four. Who knows?
It's not the sport
that is the problem. Nor is there a problem with a healthy fandom
that recognizes we are watching games. But when those games become
our obsession – and for some they are no doubt more important than
their relationship with the Lord – they have become a god.
Sports should be
fun, and, in their right place, they are. Someday, however, the
trophies will tarnish and the banners will fall.
One's relationship
with God is eternal. That should be our number one focus.
