I am a unity junkie.
A few years ago, I got really into the idea of figuring out who I am as a person. Super big 41 energy there, I know, but there have been so many benefits both directly and indirectly that have come from taking the time to do this: I married the right person. I left my job. We moved to New Mexico. I’m going to seminary. All life-changing occurrences.
Last year, my husband and I decided to become football2 fans. It had to do with fall, embracing the season, and other simple white girl things, but we settled on Georgia (college football is more exciting) because that’s where we are from and they were one of the best teams in the conference (she said unironically). It was a fairly easy decision. Taking a first step into the world of sports fanaticism, I was finally convinced to watch Ted Lasso. I’d heard and seen raving reviews all over the place, but it felt too much like an emotional investment. I had enough emotions floating around and I didn’t want to add to the burden. But, I watched it. I received a 3 month trial to Apple TV+ for purchasing a very expensive iPad, and felt I really needed to get all I could get out of Apple while I could. The show is now one of my favorite shows of all time. There is literally nothing wrong with this gem of a television series. It even ended perfectly, exactly when it was meant to. But because of Ted Lasso, I realized something. I might need to start watching football3.
Watching any sport was so far from my mind before last year, that I never in my life would have believed I would genuinely anticipate the beginning of the season, much less become emotionally invested. The idea of taking on another sport, another team, another community felt exhausting. I honestly don’t know how people do it.
But the community is what got me.
That’s the thing about sports that make them so appealing to me. Yes, I do love a competition, and I appreciate these players being super crafted in their skills, but the community of people is where it’s at. The gathering of fans before a game; the way tens of thousands of people join together with one goal, in one voice at a stadium or in backyards and living rooms across the globe. People connect over sports. They connect over team sports, more specifically. We see people separated by political or religious chasms come together over their love of a shared sports team. Supporters bridge a gap with unity, regardless of their backgrounds, even if for just a few hours. Even hooliganism (which, please let me be clear, I am not suggesting is a good thing) contains a level of loyalty and passion, the likes of which I have never been privy. People spend their money, their time, their energy, and their lives devoted to a team who, though it stays the same, is constantly changing. Some people are born into it, and some choose it, but some people’s devotion to their teams, or their clubs, will outlast their marriages.
And in this community, people rally together. Children bond with parents. Relationships of all kinds are formed and it's (almost) never about the football. It is because of football.
When I visited Seminary of the Southwest in April, one of the current students took us out to supper. “The Lord be with you,” she called across the table. Like a room full of preschoolers conditioned to circle up when the teacher claps her hands, we responded “and also with you.”
“Man, I just love being at a table with a bunch of Episcopalians.”
I knew what she meant. It was one of the first things I recognized when I joined the church, this “marco/polo” call and response. It’s how we initiate prayer. It’s how we kindly say “shut the hell up please” to a crowd. It’s how we begin gatherings. It’s unspokenly integral to our community. We identify one another through this shared language.
Many of us in the deconstruction world connect through shared experiences such as purity culture, Biblical inerrancy, Super Wow, etc., often things we loved at the time, but that nearly destroyed our sense of self. It’s part of our identity that we are able to see reflected in other people and, even if just the tiniest bit, we can look at that person and say, “Yeah. I get you.” We feel seen when others understand us. It brings us together. Before joining the Episcopal Church, I hadn’t really gotten that with many other christians. I would sometimes meet people who left the church, but didn’t turn against God. Others may have given up on religion and faith completely. I found myself in this weird position of not being un-churched enough and yet not being satisfied with the church I witnessed. It didn’t seem to quite align with others who were asking questions or pushing dogmas, nor with the “sold out” crowd either.
When I became part of the Episcopal Church, I didn’t automatically fall into a perfect groove. It was more like having freedom for the first time to witness parts of others I could connect with within the church. I was allowed to believe in science and the power of prayer. I didn’t have to confess to voting democrat. I was allowed to ask questions and say that something didn’t make sense when it didn’t. There will always be a spectrum of belief or interpretation in any faith, but it felt like it was welcomed, not simply tolerated.
Within this faith practice, one of the key points is that faith is communal. Corporate worship, communal feasting, prayers for the people. Everything seems to drive back to connection and community. I would argue that all of christianity really reads this way, but I’ve never seen it put into practice quite like the way I’m living it now. I used to think that salvation (whatevertf that means), prayer, study, worship, all of it was just between God and myself. “God and I, we have our own thing,” I would tell people. And while I still wholeheartedly believe that we are meant to connect with God individually, on a personal level, I am also confident to say that I fully believe is not meant to be the default.
Jesus went away by Himself to pray on many occasions. He sometimes needed quiet. But most of the time, He was in full community- with His followers, people of the town, hoodlums of all kinds. He ate and prayed and walked alongside them. He was in near constant fellowship.
I can sometimes be way more American than I care to admit, getting caught up in this idea of “the individual”, forging the trail, climbing the mountain alone. I get tired of talking sometimes. The energy of others can overwhelm me and I shut down. I love love love being around the people I love, but at the same time, when I don’t get time alone, fully away from all other human beings, I collapse internally. Like other introverts, I’ll get depressed or lose the energy to move forward. The conviction of fellowship being important to my faith has nudged at me because I understand it, but I can’t always bring myself to follow through.
Like so much else I realize it isn’t about “all or nothing.”
“For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have.” (2 Corinthians 8:12)
After 6 hours of Midsummer celebrations, I went to bed exhausted in mind, body, and spirit. As I counted down the seconds it takes for me to fall asleep, I thought of the day with our friends. 7 separate conversations happening across the table; kids screaming in the background, utterly destroying the house, but deliriously happy; the laughing, shouting, joking. Those moments were a prayer of gratitude. I connected with God in those moments through complete contentment and appreciation for everything in my life. Sharing that moment with others was an exercise in fellowship, of worship, and of love. Not only were we with friends, but with our community. The people who celebrate with us, who cry with us, who watch our children, and buy vegan food for the one, sole vegan in the crowd.
In these moments, we don’t realize how close to God we truly are.
American football
European football
As someone who is not American, there’s only one football.
The other is “American rugby”. Very American iteration: more capitalist, more violent, more dangerous.
Football is really magical for a sport. I’m starting to think this is our modern version for the coliseums of ancient cultures.