Chills. (And a note on the intersection between sports and the terrorist attacks on Paris.)

Chills.

I've been to a couple dozen Major League Baseball games, and every time I step onto the concourse and get my first glimpse of the baseball field in its vast array of greens and browns, I can't help but get chills. Every time.

But why?

Follow me.

I most often and consistently get chills during worship. There's something about singing with other like minded people, aiming our collective affections towards God through song, that sends shivers through me.

The parallel might seem obvious at first:

"Oh! You have the collective fan base of a particular team pointing their affections all in the same direction and something similar in church on Sunday morning with the collective congregants all doing the same thing in song towards God!"

Close.

The "pointing of our affections" is part of the proper response to receiving a gift. 

In church when the worship band strikes up the first song, our worship is supposed to be a response not to the band but to the Creator. He has blessed us with 168 hours worth of blessings this past week and will do so again this coming week, and it is a simple act of thanksgiving and praise to put aside some time with others in song to show appreciation. But the singing, again, is a response. We don't sing to warrant a response out of God. We don't sing to receive the chills. Nor do we sing just to praise Him for giving us things. We praise Him because He is good, and the things prove He is good.

So wait. What about those chills on the concourse of the baseball stadium then?

When I get those chills at the baseball game I'm encountering one of my FAVORITE gifts that God has to offer. And, I believe, that because I've been able to view baseball as such a gift, I also encounter my Creator there, Jesus.

Sports, properly encountered, are viewed not as an idol (seeing sports as evil, or worshiping sports), nor as something we are entitled to (constantly being distracted by sports, getting "too into" sports, addiction), but as a gift.

How does one respond properly to receiving a gift? How ought we to treat sports?

We'll dig in more next time with more answers, and more questions.

P.S. Below is my quick take on the intersection of sports and the recent terrorist attacks in Paris.

It was of little surprise to me and to France that there was an attempted attack (two actually) on the Germany versus France football friendly. It also could not have been by accident or coincidence that the perpetrators wanted to bomb the sports arena. With any sense of radical religion, whether radical Islam, radical Christianity or radical atheism for that matter, sports is seen as a venue of western affluence. A symbol of western pride. An illustration of freedom and excess enjoyment that dishonors God. Our "freedom to enjoy sports" therefore is seen as an affront to true devotion to God. Yet, I truly believe, as we'll continue to discover together, that God actually enjoys that we enjoy sports. Yes, it can become an idol, a symbol of pride, an in-your-face show of affluence, but it need not be in every scenario. "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights who does not change like shifting shadows." (James 1:17) When we sit and thank God for daily food, for family, for jobs and sustenance, it's not like God "shifts shadows" and suddenly doesn't deserve the same gratitude for sports! Sports too is a good gift from above that the Father wants us to enjoy. It's a pity that though I'm sure not every heart in Stade de France was perfectly pure in their gratitude, that fans could not enjoy "the beautiful game" as they ought to have. As a gracious gift from above. 

Introducing TWIST

"It is... reasonable to consider sport the newest and fastest-growing religion, far outdistancing whatever is in second place."

That is a quote from Charles Prebish from his book Religion and Sport: The Meeting of Sacred and Profane. Even more profound than the quote itself is that it was written in 1993. Before the rise of the internet. Before smartphones. Before the recent meteoric rise of fantasy sports.

Before blogging.

Ok, I don't know about that last one, but at the very least before THIS blog helped prepare you to engage sports and theology in a new and combined away.

Can sports and theology truly be twisted together to make sense? And make sense of each other?

I believe they can. I believe they are.

The problem with the discussion around theology and sports is that there isn't much of one that happens. There are two main problems. The first is that the religious often file sports under the label of "idol" or "sin." For example:

"Can you believe he skipped church for a round of golf?"
"There's too much greed in sports, I won't watch it."
"I won't root for (guys like) Michael Vick." (I'll blog on this one in a future post)

The second problem is that, religious or not, we have solely become consumers and addicts. For example:

The billion dollar industries of fantasy sports.
"Don't talk to me on the day after my team loses."
The striking intersection between athletes, advertising, Hollywood and pop culture in recent history.
The undertow of influence sports has on ALL of us as I wrote about here at The High Calling.

These problems, however, shouldn't become our definition of sports. If we see problems in something, I believe it's because we long for the good in it. We sense a deeper quality about sports, though we can't often put our finger on it.

Well let's put our finger on it!

The solution is out there, and sports, despite all of the problems and shortcomings, is good. And God loves sports.

More than we do.

Better than we do.

And that is a twist on sports.