Football is my religion

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My eyes, focused, my body, still, my mind, analysing. This is me in front of a television set, football on the screen. Living it. Every tackle, every pass, every tactical decision, every moment of joyous celebration. It does not matter what game. It does not matter what time. This is me. My eyes, focused, my body, still, my mind, analysing. In front of a television set, football on the screen.

To say that I am a football addict is – an understatement. Football defines my world. I watch it, read about it, occasionally write about it, and mostly talk about nothing else. I play it over the weekends and coach it over the weekdays. It consumes my passions, drives my motivations. Football is tantamount to my religion.

I worship its gods, who are polytheist in nature. Today, Lionel Messi, tomorrow Cristiano Ronaldo. I associate myself with its differing denominations. Manchester United or the Argentine national team. I respond to its various doctrines. Possession football and counter attacking. Zonal marking and high pressing. I can recant verses from its rule book, and thus I know when an offside is an offside, and when an indirect free kick should be given as opposed to a direct one. And dare you find me missing mass – on Saturday afternoons and Sunday afternoons, and Champions League nights.

It has me questioning. Why, really?

For anyone with an obsession, this is fairly easy to answer. It may appear madness, but there is always method in it – or rather that is what I tell myself. Football is my raison d’etre. It fuels my purpose. Yet all that is in my eyes.

As a Christian, it poses a dilemma. Is a church service as important as missing that game? Is my prayer life at the same level as my hope in a Manchester United win? Do I have as much faith in God as I do in Messi scoring a goal? Can I explain the Bible as easily as I can explain football rules?

The true essence of religion is its discipline – the adherence to its rules and customs. In that sense therefore, I cannot deny – even if I wanted to – that football is my religion. If football was a crime, and I had to be charged in court, I would be found guilty beyond reasonable doubt. The evidence would be overwhelmingly convincing. If a most wanted list of football fans was to start circulating, I would be lucky not to be in it.

The question however is, would the same apply to my Christianity?

Would I be found fully culpable of being a Christian? If anyone was looking for Christians, would whistleblowers utter my name? Is my verbal claim of Christianity reflected in my actions and deeds? Does the light of God shine through me?

The truth is that, these questions would probably be answered in the negative affirmative. I am not sure whether my Christianity shines as astoundingly bright as my footballism does. And yet, as a Christian, that is the standard to which I am called for. That is the only standard to which I should aspire.

It is this that elevates Christianity from mere religion but to the level of lifestyle. Christianity = Christ-like. My life as a Christian should thus reflect Christ. That I know already. This is not something new to me. This is a message that I have heard over and over and over again. But just as the Roman poet Ovid summarises it, "We know and approve the better course, but follow the worse."

The worse course here is not my love of football – it is my love of football above all else. It is my elevation of football from mere discipline to the extremities of fandom. These extremes influence my life more than they should be. They turn a game, a sport, into a lifestyle.

And yet, implore me my sense of self-defence and self-justification. I see nothing innately wrong with football. To me, it is a neutral ground which can be used for good, or evil. It is not evil in and of itself in its purest state.

But when I elevate it to the level of God; when I attach every inclination of worth to it, I thus resort to worshipping it. That. Is. Wrong. That is taking away from the glory of God, and feeding into the satisfaction of the desires of my flesh.

The only remedy thence – as a Christian – is to let God be the master of my life. Do I know what that means? Of course yes. Ovid’s words are again appropriate here. I know the better course even when  I willingly choose the worse.

Football can be my religion. It must however not be my master. My reason for existence is God and God alone. My purpose is found in Him alone. If football is a part of it, then let it be so. But I can only find out if I surrender to Him. I must remove self from ‘self-defence’ and ‘self-justification’ so as to remain with only defence and justification. Surrendering my religion to God is the only true defence and justification.

Written by Mike Njoroge.