Sport and the Argument from Transcendence

Over ten years ago I engaged a young atheist in a debate over the existence of God. He was a Harvard graduate and much brighter than I ( I encounter that cruel phenomenon far too often ). He'd been influenced by the not yet famous Richard Dawkins, whose book, The Blind Watchmaker, was much to his liking. Nothing I said could budge him with this one exception.
He flinched on the subject of transcendence.
He'd fallen in love with a Christian girl. Indeed that was the whole reason for our conversation. He admitted transcendence was real because he felt it. He believed his love for the girl to be transcendent. And he was candid enough to confess that he couldn't account for transcendence in his philosophy.
Some time later he did come to faith in the Savior. I wish I could claim credit. But, as human credit goes, the Lord used someone else to bring him round.
Now transcendence is an easier thing to feel than to explain. The Oxford English Dictionary (one of my favorite material possessions) ties the term to a realm beyond the physical. Transcendence suggests something quite over and outside ourselves, indeed something which can't quite be accounted for by considerations limited to ourselves, though the secularists make the attempt with all their might.
Love of course is transcendent. As is music. As is patriotism. As is Sport.
We (Jane, Seth and I) were in Italy last week. Better last week than now. To surrender the World Cup via an early exit at the hands of little Slovakia is an agony which will linger long in Italy. At one time there were something like 12 DAILY newspapers devoted to football in that country. It’s something that matters to the Italians.
We arrive at the question of WHY it matters. Why does kicking a ball into a net matter? Why do we get a lump in our throats when someone from our country ascends the medal stand and our National Anthem is played? How and for what reason does sport take us out of ourselves? Why is sport transcendent? Indeed why is anything transcendent?
I have a theory. It's a theory born of Christian conviction.
My theory is that a thing is transcendent if it shadows a corresponding reality in heaven.
The most transcendent thing is the family. The relationship we are born into or we marry into is the thing we are most willing to die for. The original and ultimate reality is the Father and the Son in heaven.
A nation is an extension of the family. Patriotism and Sport itself at the Olympic and World Cup level are expressions of the nation. It's OUR country we cheer for is it not?
Sport is also a metaphor for war. We struggle and fight. One side wins. The other side is vanquished. War, amazingly and mysteriously, is something which also takes place in heaven (Revelation 12:7).
I suppose only war itself could have distracted the world's attention from soccer this week. Even Wimbledon couldn't muster much of a distraction until the 11 hour match between John Isner and Nicolas Mahut. After the match was over Isner called Mahut a 'warrior.'
Sport can also be a substitute. We live vicariously in the defeat and victory of our team. But there's also something there which is less obvious. George Orwell wrote that where religious faith is absent totalitarianism is inevitable. Men cannot live without absolutes. If we reject the Heavenly Kingdom we will demand subservience to an earthly kingdom.
We simply will care about something. If it's not something which matters, it will be something which appears to matter at the moment.
Like kicking a ball into a net.
I'm not suggesting that caring about sport must necessarily displace the Larger Things.
No doubt the Apostle Paul was an enthusiast for Sport.
It's hard to read First Corinthians without sensing that.
I rather maintain that our enthusiasm is a hint.
It's a signal that there is something bigger.
Something much bigger.
Our team has already exited the World Cup.
John Isner is gone from Wimbledon.
But there is another glory.
It fadeth not away.