Note: This article originally appeared in CRUX, Summer 2020, Vol. 56, No. 2.

I was raised in a conservative open Plymouth Brethren setting in which being a professional athlete, or even an amateur one, was considered to be incompatible with being a Christian. On the day my uncle Andrew was baptized, at the age of fourteen, he handed in his soccer jersey and left the team. As an eleven-year-old, I was chosen to play soccer for the province in Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe, and decided, under parental influence, not to play because the games were on Sundays. At the age of twelve I was chosen again and this time could play, due to Saturday games, and I played on the same team as Bruce Grobbelaar, who went on to play for Liverpool FC in England. At that age, my school team, Nettleton School, beat his team, David Livingstone, 2–0 in the schools’ cup final and yours truly scored both goals (albeit at point blank range, which was the only way you could score on him, even in those days!). My father actually came to watch that match and remembered Bruce’s tears at the loss. Years later, he bumped into Grobbelaar at the Johannesburg airport when he was now a star, and I am embarrassed to say, in his Scottish accent, my father went right up to him and said, “My son Ross scored two goals on you!” Ironically, my father had prevented me from leaving Rhodesia at age twelve to pursue contacts that my Scottish coach, Charlie Mackay, had made with professional teams in the UK on my behalf. My grandfather, John “Shoogly” Waugh who had played professional soccer in Scotland (Hearts, Motherwell, Raith Rovers, Hamilton Academicals) was my hero, and I had always thought I would follow in his footsteps. He was a character, and, of course, his whole career happened before he became a Christian.

I played rugby rather than soccer for the first four years of high school and captained an undefeated U-15 team at Cranborne Boys’ High. At least, I captained it until, mid-season, my team was scheduled for a weekday match. Because I had an exam the following day, my father did not let me play, and the coach removed the captaincy. For those of you who know rugby, I was a full back and fly half. We toured South Africa, and as a result of a serious concussion, I did not play again until university days in South Africa. My last two years at high school were spent at Churchill school for A levels. It had a great sporting tradition. I noticed recently that New Zealand, who were finalists in the World Cup of cricket, had a player called Colin de Grandhomme. I played alongside his father, Laurence de Grandhomme, who was the star batsmen in our first XI. I won the highest award for soccer, called the “Wings” award, at Churchill, and on two occasions scored against, yes, you guessed it, Bruce Grobbelaar, who played for Hamilton in Bulawayo—this time not at point blank range!

Since those days, I have played a great deal of tennis and golf. I played cricket until my early fifties for Tsawwassen Cricket club (batting award) and squash into my late fifties. I love to watch sports, in this order of preference—rugby, cricket, soccer, tennis. I probably consult BBC Sport about five times a day. I am basically a sports nut! I was never known as a nerd at school (though I did okay at academics), but only as a jock. How I made it to an academic career is a miracle. But, as you can see, conflicts abound in how I experienced sport. 

What as a theologian do I think about sport? This is not an easy question to answer. Let’s begin with the positive, a take on things that was not present in my upbringing largely due to what I might describe as a Platonic or quasi-gnostic rather than biblical view of the goodness of the body. A theology of the goodness of the human body suggests that as image bearing humans, God who images himself in us, might actually take delight in the aesthetics of sport. Might it be that if we can discern the beauty of a majestic cover drive in cricket, that is because God does also? Or when a rugby crowd rises and roars when a lightning fast wing pins his ears back, jinks past two defenders, sidesteps another, and leaps over the try line at the corner . . . that God might delight in that too? Or when a Beckham bends in a beautiful free kick that God bends to take joy in it also? Is there beauty to be seen in sport? I say yes! No discussion of this kind could be complete without the famous words of sprinter become missionary Eric Liddell: “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast! And when I run I feel his pleasure.” Being Calvinist, he came from a much more creation affirming and less separatist church tradition than I did. Certainly Paul and the author of Hebrews were admirers of athletics, as their analogies show. What about when a crowd rises in appreciation of the final lap of a great 1500m run and we have goose flesh all over? Is this a harbinger of the day when all in heaven will rise up and roar their acclaim of the King of Glory, and sing, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain”?    

The image of God has three components to it: relational, structural, and functional. We are created to be relational beings toward God and toward each other, and teams in sport help cultivate that communal aspect of our being; we have structural capacities that include reason, the ability to design sports and play them, and the wisdom to strategize, just as players and coaches must do; and functionally, we are called to earth-keeping and careful stewardship and management of creation, making order out of chaos. Managing a sports team is in that category. Another aspect of image bearing that relates to sport is that the cultural mandate that includes a theology and praxis of work also involves Sabbath rest. Rest, it seems to me, includes play. There isn’t a great deal of material on play in the theological tradition, but it seems to me that creatures play a great deal in this extravagant creation God has made, and maybe sports is one of the ways in which human creatures play. Karl Barth once said, “It may be that when the angels go about their task praising God, they play only Bach. I am sure, however, that when they are together en famille they play Mozart and that then too our dear Lord listens with special pleasure.”¹ Might there be an analogy with sport? In his corpus, Barth speaks of applications of his doctrine of providence in delightful ways, of the creature as creator, in Christ the covenant partner of God.² He even speaks of the creature “at play”³ in light of Sabbath, in divinely given freedom and concursus. Were it not for the “play” of sports, I may not have stayed sane in the midst of life’s pressures as a pastor and theologian. 

But is there a dark side to sports? Is there an incipient and dangerous idolatry? A proper hamartiology would say yes. The fall does not mean humans are as bad as they can be and that there is no beauty left in image bearers. It does mean that we have a complete inability to save ourselves and that every aspect of our god-like beings are prone to distortion and idolatry. Failing to find our real satisfaction in the triune God, we seek it in broken cisterns, including achievement and adulation in sport, either our own or vicariously, in that of other stars and teams. The phenomenon of competition, which seems endemic to human nature, can easily become hatred. The mob violence of soccer fans in the UK is a case in point. Controlled aggression expressed in tackling someone hard in rugby easily turns into a desire to hurt. Perhaps the peace tradition would say rugby is off limits, just as war is! Being first a peace-making advocate and then, when all efforts at peace have been exhausted, a just war advocate in the in-between time of the kingdom, I have less trouble justifying rugby when the rules are maintained. I have little patience for fighting in ice hockey, for it shows a complete lack of self-control, going beyond sport into violence. Admiration for great sports persons easily becomes insatiable idolatry and temptation toward a false vicarious identity. Desire for excellence can easily develop into the selfism that goes with making your way to the top in any sport. What can be for the glory of God can easily become vainglory. Finding our identity in sports teams we support can easily fill the void when identity is not found in Christ. Virtues can be developed through sport and vices can be encouraged in sport. Have I even crossed the line sharing my sports accomplishments in this article? Is there too much identity in sports and not enough in Christ? 

Perhaps conflict is inevitable in the theology and praxis of sports. Hopefully some clear theological thinking may remove some unnecessary conflicts. I can’t wait for the parade of the cosmic, angelic, and redeemed for the Lamb of God who was slain!