Idols of Our Culture: "The Game"
| Rod Frohman |
Third Presbyterian Church |
| August 17, 2008 |
|
“I believe in the church of baseball. I've tried all the
major religions and most of the minor ones. I've worshipped
Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva, trees, mushrooms and
Isadora Duncan. I know things. For instance, there are 108 beads
in a Catholic's rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball.
When I learned that, I gave Jesus a chance. But it didn't work
out between us. The Lord laid too much guilt on me. I prefer
metaphysics to theology. You see, there is no guilt in baseball.
And it is never boring...It 's a long season and you gotta trust
it. I've tried 'em all, I really have, and the only church that
truly feeds the soul, day in, day out, is the church of baseball.”
(Baseball, An Illustrated
History by Geoffrey C. Ward and Ken Burns, Knopf,
NY, 1994, p. 189)
You may recall this creed as the opening narration in the
movie, “Bull Durham,” spoken off camera by the lead
character Annie Savoy. The scary thing about this creed is that
it hits very close to home.
The Game (capital G), and its seasonal varieties, has become
a big business in America with enormous player salaries. But
even in 1876, Albert G. Spaulding, then a player, was paid $2000
per season, easily 10 times more than the annual salary of a
public school teacher in 1876.
But more importantly, the Game has become a religion in America
in which people are known to bolt from Sunday worship in order
to get to the stadium for something more exciting.
A minister friend of mine was substituting for his friend
a few years ago in Bloomington, Indiana, home of the University
Of Indiana Hoosiers, and their then chair-throwing basketball
coach, Bobby Knight. One of the host Elders, and lay reader
for the day, was chatting with my clergy friend before the service
and declared with a twinkle in his eye,
“Reverend, Make sure you're done at noon because we
have to get home to watch the Bobby Knight Show”.
"I'll be more than happy to do that," responded
my friend, "if you do me a small favor."
"Oh, sure." the elder responded, "What do you
want me to do?"
My friend said, "I'd like you to get a picture of Bobby
Knight and put it on the Communion Table."
The Church of the Game has become a clear competitor with
the Church of Jesus Christ, and the similarity is striking.
The Game is very often played on a Holy Day, usually the Christian
Sabbath. To get to the Game one must make a pilgrimage. The
thronging to the Game on the Game holy day is filled with festive
celebration. Like an ancient festival, on Game Day, people come
from the periphery of society to the center, like the old biblical
gathering of tribes around a central shrine under the leadership
of Joshua. Those who have been to an “allyah,” a
trip to Jerusalem, or a trip to Mecca, or have seen such a pilgrimage,
testify as to the festive quality of the surge of mutual travelers
to The Game. There is the pre-Game communal meal, known as the
tailgate party. Some worshippers at the Game wear special clothes
with special colors. Some even paint their faces and bodies
in decorative manner in anticipation of this great festival
day. Some bring festal banners and pennants which display their
feelings and devotion. These are waved or draped in the Game
sanctuary, the stadium. When the pilgrimage to the Game is over
and it is time to return home, there is a surge of travelers
also. A true appreciation of the popularity of the Game pilgrimage
is realized by traveling on the NY State Thruway in Buffalo
after a gridiron scrimmage.
In the last fifteen years a new Game pilgrimage has emerged.
It is called, “The road to the Final Four”. This
is not the saga of the final four people left on earth, but
the final four teams in the NCAA Division I college basketball
tournament. It usually coincides with Lent because it takes
place in March, and strangely this pilgrimage is also called
“March Madness”.
The pilgrimage to the Game is always to holy ground, a sacred
space, a sanctuary away from the cares and troubles of the world.
This sacred space is a place where a person can retreat from
reality and enjoy the pageantry of the Game. Often in or around
the sanctuary are the icons and relics of former priests of
the game. In New York City, at one sanctuary, statues of previous
high priests named Gehrig and Ruth are found in a special shrine
adjacent to the sanctuary. Many teams "retire" the
liturgical vestments of their former high priests and hang them
on the walls of their sanctuary. Further, sanctuaries are frequently
named for their gods, often with the last name of "dome"
such as; Astro and Metro. But some sanctuaries just have names
of saints like Comiskey, and Busch. Recently, some sanctuaries
have been named by the types of the tithes offered to build
the sanctuaries, such as Dunn Tire, Frontier and AT & T.
One sanctuary in the city of Detroit is even named “Comerica”
apparently to venerate the god of commerce.
Of course the Game has a liturgical year also. A book on my
shelf clearly explains this phenomenon with the title,
Why Time Begins On Opening Day. The liturgical
year of the Game begins with a rite of spring, “Spring
Training.” Then a pilgrimage is made north and the season
is played until the July mid-summer astrological festival, called
the “All Star” game. The dog days of August are
endured and the season is almost over before the children go
back to school. But then starts the most sacred holiday season
of all, the October World Series. Another Game has its liturgical
year too, culminating in the Super Bowl.
Of course the Game is rich with specific and historic ritual,
from the beginning coin toss (apparently another tribute to
the god of commerce), to a strange ritual in the middle of the
game in which normal liturgy is stopped, bands march and music
is played. Another liturgical tradition has this interruption
7/9ths of the way through the liturgy, rather than half way
through, where, oddly, homage is paid to the nation in solemn
song.
Further some of the priests of the game make ritual use of
certain stimulating and performance enhancing substances. Recently
the use of tobacco, a substance used in some religions, has
been banned. Clandestine tobacco use is still found however,
but instead of smoking it, as some other religions do, strangely,
the priests chew it and regularly expectorate its juices in
a seemingly random ritual, marking the floor of their sanctuary.
Several archaeological studies of these markings have failed
to reveal any deliberate pattern or meaning.
There are moments of supreme drama in the ritual. The participating
priests stop and look at the worship leader who, through a variety
of gestures and symbols, communicates instructions from the
bishop enthroned on his bench, as to what action to take. All
the worshippers in the sanctuary scream and stomp their feet
in great anticipation of what sacrificial transaction is about
to take place. Self sacrifice for the benefit of the whole community
is an important value in the religion of The Game.
At the Church of the Game there is a tremendous commitment
of time, energy and resources. The worshippers stay at the Church
of the Game up to three and four hours at a time, and usually
arrive sixty minutes early, even though their pews are numbered
and reserved. What is amazing is that all of the worshippers
in the sanctuary of the Game are required to PAY to watch the
ritual. Some pay $50 or $60, $100 or more each time they go
to worship, thus making an annual financial commitment to the
Church of Game of thousands of dollars. You should know that
I do not worship at such an expensive sanctuary. My regular
expense is about $5 per worship experience, very minor.
Why is the Church of the Game so attractive? Probably because
it provides a sense of community, belonging. Why, my section
in the Field of the Frontier Church is known as “The Neighborhood.”
The worshippers always sit in the same seats, Jim the retired
fireman always sits over there on the front row. Sometimes Larry,
a tax collector in his former life, sits to my left as does
Dave the horseradish maker. Tom and Sue and their boys occasionally
sit behind me. Doug and his daughter Pam are always there. Pam
is very religious and takes detailed notes on the worship ritual
in a strange hieroglyphics of numbers and letters A tremendous
bond is developed among us all so that a guest worshipper often
remarks, "Hey, you folks really get along here and have
fun." After worship the people often go to their fellowship
hour at a local establishment. They call each other during the
week to discuss the previous week's worship, and the beauty,
symmetry and sincerity of the various ritual acts committed.
But another reason for the attractiveness of the Church of
the Game is that everyone from a variety of backgrounds, races
and classes are all joining forces to see the great struggles
of life illustrated. The ritual of the game assumes that we
humans are people who live in between life and death, innocence
and cynicism. At the Church of the Game these polarities are
reenacted. There in the sanctuary is the struggle of native
versus foreigner. It is a struggle of good versus bad, of light
versus dark. The priests of the Game agree to wear liturgical
colors indicating their role. The good priests from home wear
white while the bad visitors wear grey or full color vestments.
Winning is clearly a victory over disillusionment and meaningless.
Winning is everything. And of course, if the home team does
not win, it is a shame. One of the Game's central creeds espoused
by the venerated Saint Leo du Rocher is, “Nice guys finish
last”. Winning means that the mundane routine of every
day life is overcome. Worshippers experience transcendence as
I did for two to three months after the priests from my former
Minnesota Church of the Game won the World Series.
I guess the big question is, can the Church of Jesus Christ
compete with the Church of the Game?
There are some who wish to compete by mixing the Church of
Christ with the church of the Game. You will see these cultural
syncretists, crossing themselves before they bat, praying after
they score a touch down, or whole teams praying before or after
games, even praying the Lord's prayer. I may be wrong on this,
but I don't think God really cares if the Redwings or Bills
win. God has much more important things on the divine agenda
like peace in Iraq and Georgia and better schools in Rochester.
Some churches are deliberately mixing the Church of Christ
with the Church of the Game. Scholar James Twitchell in his
2008 book, Shopping for God, has noted
that many mega churches have very successfully repatriated men
by the installation of gyms, coffee shops, basketball courts
and driving ranges within church facilities. In past generations
some congregations actually had bowling alleys, but those have
largely disappeared.
But from the Church of the Game we realize what the national
obsession with sports is saying. In our culture there is a tremendous
longing for community, for acceptance, for feeling worthwhile
about one's self and one's life. People long for transcendence,
a sense of connection with something or someone greater than
themselves, which will lift the low-feeling person out of their
constant doldrums.
The Church of Christ has long spoken precisely to these needs,
affirming that the life in Christ is the abundant life. But
the Church of Christ cannot simply declare in a loud voice that
Christ's abundant life is somehow better than the feeling of
abundance and well-being that one gets at the Church of the
Game.
No, we cannot compete with the Church of the Game because
we must be honest and say that the abundant Christian life will
frequently involve, well, suffering. Oh. And as you know at
the Church of the Game anyone suffering or injured is removed
from the sanctuary so that only the strong participate. The
practical theology of the Church of the Game is Darwinian. The
central act of the Christian Church is the suffering and death
of Christ on the Cross. In that death we learn that God's grace
is what sustains our lives, not our constantly striving after
the victor's silver cup, gold medal or festooned pennant. Further
we declare that God works in the world, not through winning,
but through losing. As Christ lost his life on the Cross so
we are called to lose our lives in service to the world. The
ritual meal we observe is always a variation on that theme,
which abundant living comes through losing our lives in service
to Christ in the world for which he died. The pilgrimage which
we make is the pilgrimage to the cross where victory over death
takes place, not by our winning efforts, but because God gives
transcendent life those who lose their lives for Christ's sake.
But there are some things we can learn from the Church of
the Game. The players who compete in the Church of the Game
by and large prepare themselves to do their best job through
rigorous physical and mental preparation. We can, indeed we
must, prepare so that what we do here is of the highest quality.
Further what we do in the Church of Christ must not be boring,
but rather innovative and creative and attractive and exciting.
And shouldn't our common life of worship, education and service
be exciting? After all, who is here? Alex Rodriquez, Michael
Phelps, Brett Favre? No, “God is here”, as our first
hymn today said:
“God is here and we your people meet to offer praise
and prayer....
Here are symbols to remind us of our life-long need of grace;
Here are table, font and pulpit, Here the cross has central
place.
Here in honesty of preaching, Here in silence as in speech,
Here in newness and renewal, God the Spirit comes to teach.”