I once considered myself a football fan. My band played tailgate parties for and got tickets to Tampa Bay Bucs games. I watched televised games with friends. I made bets with my sister whenever it was a Buckeyes/Gators game (and I won, won, won).
Maybe I have moved too often in the last few years to feel a regional loyalty. Maybe I can no more relate to watching millionaires play football against millionaires for the benefit of billionaires than I could relate to rich people playing polo. And it's not just football; I feel no connection to baseball, either, or basketball. Salaries, unions, disputes, lockouts, big business, corporate naming rights, teams deserting cities, increasing the number of games in a season and then breaking the records earned by players in shorter seasons; it just doesn't touch my life anymore, or my life doesn't touch it.
I believe Beyonce is a very talented singer, dancer and actress. However, there were no touchstones for me in her half-time performance. It's somebody else's demographic now, I suppose, and I need to release it all to 18 to 25 year-old males with disposable incomes and unshaped senses of discretion.
I'm not bitter about these changes. Professional team sports have passed me by. The parade is long over, and a few street sweepers push their brooms by me while I wonder what it was all about. That was the parade? Really?
Somewhere in Baltimore, vandalism will happen because their team won. Somewhere in San Francisco, vandalism will happen because their team lost. I've never understood this.
I salute the enthusiasm of those who are currently hoarse from screaming at players, refs, coaches and game plans for missed calls, blown coverage, and successful plays.
I'm not certain what has changed, but I don't feel like a participant anymore. I don't feel sad or depressed, just unplugged and disconnected from the National Zeitgeist.
Tomorrow morning I will enjoy a training run with friends as we gear up for a half-marathon that is a month distant. I will soak in the camaraderie of a few people who are not being paid millions to run, who have found in the expression of body, soul, heart and fellowship some deep source of joy.
It seems the less connected I become from capitalism and its artificial construct of who I am supposed to be, the happier I am. The fewer times that I pay attention to the messages telling me why I don't measure up, what I need to make-up for my deficits, what is required for me to be accepted and acceptable, the happier I am.
At this moment, I am led to consider The Gospel According to Matthew, chapter 6, verses 16-30. In the New Revised Standard Version (Catholic Edition) it is translated thus:
"And when you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by men. Truly, I say to you, they have their reward. But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, 18 that your fasting may not be seen by men but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
“The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is sound, your whole body will be full of light; but if your eye is not sound, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness!
“No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.
“Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add one cubit to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O men of little faith?"
Maybe this seems like an odd passage to study at this moment, but maybe it isn't odd at all.
Jesus is not just commenting on fasting; He is commenting on putting on airs and displays in order to please and impress other people. Am I supposed to be persuaded to buy things because someone else has them, or in reaction to someone creating a need in my ego where no such need existed? Why lay up treasures that corrode?
Do I keep my focus on the light of love, or do I begin to believe love has to be earned? To believe love has to be earned is to focus on the shadow and the darkness.
Do I feel a need to stay in style? Who am I serving? God, or some designer?
Jesus, what happens if I let go of participating in a needs-based life? What will happen? How will I know that's OK to do?
And the answer comes to me not as a rebuke, but instead with the honeyed tones of a loving mother soothing an upset child: "Little one, do not be anxious about your life. Look what God does!"
My critical mind begins to argue against such simple faith. I formulate tremendously complicated, far-fetched arguments. "Who can trust God when a foster child was found murdered...?" Suddenly I have leapt from trusting God for my needs to challenging God's reliability.
I have leapt toward everything but faith.
There's the rub. In the end, it always comes round to this same discussion between God and me. It starts with the Super Bowl, or some other random topic, but if I chase it long enough, any dissatisfaction I feel ultimately runs down the path of Faith Discussions.
I want faith to satisfy me before I feel a need. God apparently wants me to have faith so I don't have to feel a need.
I can throw a child's murder at God like an accusation, but if I move from a place of faith, I only hear God saying, "What is yours to do in this situation? Who am I asking you to love, to console, to strengthen, to show compassion?"
If I let go of my needs, trust God is meeting them, and step out to meet some of the needs in my community, everything changes for me. Suddenly I have meaning.
And if I cannot find meaning anymore in a football game, it is not the fault of the game or the advertisers or the demographics of age and wealth and gender. It is just that I am being called to do something else at that moment, and will be dissatisfied until I respond to THAT call.
1500 years ago, St. Augustine of Hippo said, "Our hearts are restless, Lord, until they rest in thee."
And so it is.
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