Pastoral Care - Extra Time!

A bonus Faith Hope and Sport Extra Time episode reflecting on the interview we have just heard with Sporting Chaplain, Phil Mitchell. Who are we? Sportsman or woman? Devoted fan?  Is that our only identity?

Produced by Commission Christian Radio

Transcript

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Faith, hope, and sport, extra time. Towards the end of our conversation, Phil Mitchell raised the issue of identity among sports people. For many at higher levels, they define themselves and their core identity as a footballer, golfer, swimmer, and so on. While they're enjoying success, this can seem to be fine. But when injury comes along, or they retire, or they're simply overtaken by someone better, well it's not so good. If they lose their place in the team or fall a lot lower in their rankings, life can fall apart. If they're no longer a star at sport, they have to ask themselves who am I? For some it gets worse. They've been committed to sport for so long, even from childhood that they neglected their education, so have nothing to go into to earn a living. Now, to be sure, some can go into management or coaching or media punditry or journalism, or another closely related sporting arena, but that will only be for a few. Even fewer might transition into filmmaking, like Vinny Jones or Eric Cantona. Some will become businessmen like Fran Cotton and Steve Smith founding cotton traders clothing, and the very, very occasional one will become David Beckham. But for many it's a struggle. Of course, not all sports stars fall into this trap. In its amateur days, rugby union was full of aspiring doctors, teachers, bankers, and so on, and today many study to degree level while playing. Again, just one example is Ulster's Charlie Irvine, who's currently a medical student. To be fair, all higher level sports clubs that have an academy set up do encourage their youngsters to pursue a good general education or training that will stand them in good stead in later life. Actually, though, later life for some of these kids starts much sooner than they might have hoped, as their time in the academy ends with them being told Sorry, son, we're not taking you into the youth squad. You'll not get into the senior squad. And there they are, their dreams shattered and not yet out of their teens. Again, the question forces itself on them who am I? And the answer can come back I'm just a failure. Let's get a little less dramatic and not talk about sportsmen and women, but about sports fans. And graveyards. Many years ago, I took a couple of hours and surveyed the headstones in a cemetery in Belfast. A fair number of graves had sporting emblems or inscriptions on the headstone. Now there could be no more stark expression of the importance of sport to a person than having his headstone permanently engraved with the name of his favourite sports team. Unsurprisingly, more than half of the sporting symbols were football related. The inscriptions indicate how the deceased saw himself, how he wanted to be identified as a person, what was very important to him. You'll notice by the way that I've used male pronouns? As you might imagine, all of the headstones were men's. Can it really be that so many people actually believe that it's important to be remembered as a supporter of a football club? Well, yes, it seems it can. Now to be fair, all of the headstones had other inscriptions such as much loved father, beloved husband, and so on. So I'm not saying that being a supporter of Liverpool or Manchester United would it Now to be fair, all of the headstones had other inscriptions such as much loved father, beloved husband, and so on. So I'm not saying that being a supporter of Liverpool or Manchester United was anyone's only self description, but it was there. And the question we have to ask again is why? How can being a sports fan, remember a fan, not a player be a part of a person's identity? Let me suggest a couple of reasons. First, at one level the answer's not hard to find. Supporting any team brings me into a community that shares together the joy and sorrow, success and failure, hope and despair. In this what we might call fellowship, there can be companionship, mutual commitment, even what the New Testament calls brotherly love. If you want to look it up, try Romans twelve, verse ten, first Thessalonians four verse nine. If a bloke can't find these things in a family or among friends in his workplace or neighborhood, then getting together with his fellow fans in a local Liverpool supporters club provides a community, a community of mutual interest, or maybe even a surrogate family. Further, for an individual who feels insignificant in his local community, the fellowship of the Worldwide Brotherhood of Manchester United supporters is at least some sort of substitute. The Christian Church has a community, and a fellowship that is perfectly suited to our nature as human beings, but sadly, so often that fellowship is culturally foreign to the community outside. To our shame, it seems that often the fellowship of the tennis club or darts team, or Arsenal supporters club is more attractive than that of the local church. Back to the headstones. You'll never walk alone appeared on a number of Liverpool supporters headstones, but also on a Glasgow Celtic supporters headstone. The song's hymn like qualities might be taken to refer to the fellowship of the club or even to something greater. I think that sport has the ability to bring both players and supporters into contact with something transcendent. It can lift people out of the mundane and into the sort of mystical. One headstone of a Manchester United fan had attached to it a picture frame, and the frame was edged with flowers, and in the frame a Manchester United crest radiated beams of light. From a distance it looked for all the world like a little sacred heart. It wasn't exactly an icon, but it came pretty close. Any fan who's been part of a crowded football or cricket stadium, or among the crowd at the Ryder Cup's final day knows what it's like to be caught up into something bigger than himself. It might be described, yes, as a sort of mystical, transcendent, dare I say even religious experience. Three of the graves I looked at had a fifty centimeter high figure of a footballer. In each case, the name of the deceased was on the back of the shirt, as it would appear if the person was playing for the team. Now this is sometimes done of course on replica shirts bought by supporters, although more often the supporter will wear the name of a favourite player. Looking at these little statues, it appeared to me that somehow the deceased had made the final identification with his team. In death, he had been symbolically absorbed into a greater and more intimate fellowship. No longer is he an observer on the terraces or in front of the television, he's on the pitch, a member of the team, spiritually united with great players of the past, present, and future. Here's another thought. If scripture leads us to believe that celestial spiritual powers lie behind the forces of governments and armies, should we not say the same of sports clubs also? The spiritual forces that lie behind the affairs of our human race cannot be absent from the sporting realm. Christians have to recognize this and respond prayerfully and robustly as we worship, and as we proclaim to the world the one who has conquered the principalities and powers, and at whose feet one day all things in heaven and on earth will bow. More mundanely, at every level, a sports club can be more than a collection of individuals meeting to play the same game. It can have a culture, even a spirit, into which mere human beings are caught up. Local churches too have a culture, and we proclaim a Holy Spirit who wants to raise us up from the ordinary in our times of worship, and then return us to everyday life, ready to face all that life has to throw at us. And we are to experience this together. So what's my identity? Who am I in the deepest place of my heart? Am I an athlete who is sacrificing so much to make it to the Olympics? Or am I a super fan who lives and breathes Tottenham Hotspur? Surely there must be more than that. Am I a loving and beloved father or mother, son or daughter, husband or wife? Am I a caring neighbour, a faithful friend? These must be so much better than being a sports fan. So who am I? What is my core identity? As a human being, I am part of God's creation, and a part that He values and loves above all the rest. And if I'm a follower of Jesus, I'll never be retired, passed over, deselected, or have to drop out through injury. Surely that's worth putting at the center. And if we do that, we'll see where the rest of life takes its rightful place. Its rightful place on the terraces, on the pitch, at home, at work, wherever. And the final whistle brings faith, hope, and sport extra time to an end. Until the next time.