Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Gridiron Gods

Ah, it’s that time of year again! Children go back to school, cooler temperatures greet us in the morning and college football permeates every corridor of life as we know it. God bless America!


To the outsider, the college football can seem a little intense, ludicrous, infantile...perhaps even whimsical. But the fans themselves?

We replace our cell phone ringtones with fight songs and our screensavers pop with images of stadiums and players. Our wardrobes get limited to certain colors while others are avoided entirely. At the water coolers, trash-talking becomes the new gossip.

We go to the games in person, rarely flinching at high ticket prices. Or we watch it at home with friends. We even flock to sports bars to cheer our teams with total strangers – who become closer than family. We paint our faces. We don our jerseys. And when the temperatures plummet, we strip out of our jerseys and paint our torsos. We perform any number of rituals, which range from seemingly practical to utterly ridiculous. Battle plans are drawn in the form of X’s and O’s and we laud our coaches as gods and generals.

Yes, this is the Church of College Football and its congregation, wherever we meet, is a fiercely loyal group – true defenders of the faith. Should it ever be required, I would bleed scarlet and gray. Someone else might bleed purple and gold while another might even spare a few precious drops of orange and blue. Like Scripture, we recite every statistic, win-loss record, championship count and sacred team history any time and every time we feel compelled to share our gospel. And to ensure that we’re always up-to-date, we receive real-time tweets and texts, 24-7, in case anything crucial happens, as it happens!

Thank goodness we’re not the only sports nuts around. After all, I’m pretty sure it was the Apostle Paul who encouraged King David to run some sort of race in the book of Zechariah, but the exact reference escapes me right now. I’d check my Bible to confirm, but I’m not entirely sure where that’s at either.

A few years ago, this obsessive football fanatic was hit with the stark reality that I knew more about my team and the game in general, than I did about my Heavenly Father or the Playbook He had written for us. Was I willing to share the Gospel of Jesus Christ with the same voracity? Football, it seems, had become my idol.

So I began to take a long, hard look at what being such a loyal fan had done for me. Okay, it wasn’t such a long look because it had done nothing. But it was a hard one. I could quote statistics all day long but the only Bible verse I knew for sure is found in the book of John, verse 16 of chapter 3. “For God so loved the world that He gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” Incidentally, that’s also found on the homemade banners hoisted in most end zones.

Ashamed, I knew it was time to hit the bench.


God (who, in some circles associated with, is really believed to be Woody Hayes) made me aware that things were greatly askew in my life. I prayed. I repented and I began to re-prioritize my life. I decided to fake the hand-off by grabbing my Bible instead of the TV remote. I yielded to the Lord as my Head Coach. I made sure that my family was in place as my offensive line. In this way, as quarterback, I could do my job more effectively. Without these elements, I would be alone and rendered ineffective.

Football jargon aside, the change made a profound difference in my life. In fact, I enjoy spending time with my wife and kids so much, there hasn’t been much room for football these last couple of years. Of course, I still get the itch every fall  and I’ll check the AP polls from time-to-time but I just can’t bring myself to waste another Saturday on something that has no eternal impact. Game over.

However, a new season looms on the horizon.

Many times, God gives us a talent or a passion that, until we understand and accept it as such, they become hindrances. Once we do accept them, we need to lay them at Jesus’ feet – in essence, giving them back. Sometimes He’ll keep them because we’ve already squandered the blessing they were meant to become. Other times, He gives them back graciously and full of His power. I’ve been blessed with one such instance.

A new couple has been attending church recently. My wife, who is socially gifted in a way that I am not, quickly became friends with the woman. We get the impression that she’s more willing to reach out than her husband is. He’s quiet and usually doesn’t make friends easily. He follows football, I’m told. But not just football, he follows my team.

So I talked to him Sunday after church and we instantly hit it off. It turns out that he’s not quiet – simply put, nobody had been speaking his language! He made me promise to watch a few games with him this season. I made him promise to join the Bible study group my wife and I are starting next month. 

Later in the afternoon, I reflected on these things. In God’s goodness (and ultimately for His Glory), He’s decided to call me off the bench. It’s fourth and long with only a few seconds remaining and Creation’s great Head Coach (God, not Woody) calls for an end-around flea-flicker combo.

Oh, how I love college football.

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