It is important that you know that I am a huge football fan.  I am not nearly as rabid as I once was and that primarily due to something that happened to me a few years back that I will explain momentarily.  I was born in a town that in the Fall participates in worship on Friday night and attends church on Sunday.  Nobody in the town is close to being confused about which of those in the Fall is the most important.  I am told that when I was a baby I was given a red and white Lincoln County football before I was given formula.  I grew up thinking that football was life and that every good person either attended or played in football games on Friday night.  In fact, when I was a boy and then a teen I played on Friday night if not on the field then behind the “stands,” went or watched on Saturday, slept in on Sunday and watched the NFL all afternoon.  Get the picture!  I went five years from 1967-1972 and did not miss a single UGA football game.  I have even driven through the night to get to a game and driven through the night to get back home to preach on Sunday.  So, I love football.

I really don’t remember how long ago, but a few years back I had this really clear impression from God that He wanted me to fast from football of all kinds for an entire season.  I would have rather it been food.  It was harder for me at the first than I could have ever imagined.  But after four or five weeks something happened inside me that changed me.  I saw that I did not love football; I was worshiping at the altar of something that has no eternal significance at all.  I was addicted to the game.  We say in recovery ministries that men and women who are addicted to drugs have to be free of them for a long period of time before they can begin to see on the one side how much they loved and worshiped the drug and on the other side what life really is about without the drug.  That is close to what happened to me.  I knew two things after that almost six month stretch.  First, I would never, ever be able to go back to the way I had once lived.  In fact, the way I had been living in relationship to a game was scarry to me.  I mean when I wasn’t watching a game during the Fall, I was talking with someone about the dawgs or the bears of the sparatans, watching ESPN, or reading ESPN the Magazine.  I couldn’t get enough.  Second, I began to see more realistically than I had ever seen before how much time and energy is wasted on things that we esteem with value that have no real, lasting value.  Now if you had spoken the above words to me about five to six years ago,  I would have called you a fanatic while thinking you a fool.  But hear me out.

I went to Jacksonville fo the world’s largest outdoor cocktail party one time.  It was when I really loved football and really loved the dawgs.  Please don’t tell anybody but I really don’t get involved anymore emotionally with whether they win or lose.  At the end of the day, it is no big deal.  I mean what lasting difference does it make either way?  I was appalled and what I saw going in and was galled by the time I left, and not a little bit fearful.  The year was 1973.  I suppose it has gotten worse.  But that is not my point.  Here is my point:  multiple thousands of people will be in that stadium on Saturday.  Some may well have spent part of the week in the area.  Some will stay over on Saturday night.  Huge amounts of money will be spent on frivolities.  A game will be played that will last just over three hours.  A team will win and a team will lose.  People will holler and scream.    A larger number will be intoxicated.  And nobody of that number will question how much money they spent for something that has no lasting value BUT some of those people would be the first in line to complain that the church is always asking for money.  And they would profess to be believers.

Here is a suggestion for you.  Go to the game.  Have a great time.  But show yourself a child of God.  Practice good financial responsibility.  Pass out some tracts or New Testaments.  Tell at least five people about Jesus.  There will be multiple thousands present.  Let me tell you a true story.  I have only been to one professional football game.  Ashley Hammett took me, George Mobley and Mark Phillips to see the Falcons lose to somebody.  We had a great time.  We ate a great meal ahead of time and found a great parking place.  We were nearing the stadium when we heard these guys preaching the Gospel.  Now I have to be honest:  I didn’t want to go near them.  I was a little embarassed.  But you know what Ashley did:  he went over to them to thank them and to say, “that guy right there is my preacher.”  I had no choice so I went over to talk with them and was so impressed with both their honesty and their humility.  It ruined the game for me because I sat there popping peanuts and drinking my five dollar soda knowing that the real fun was outside the arena with those guys holding up the posters and proclaiming the Gospel.  Go Dawgs. Go Gators.  Go Jackets.  Go Spartans.  Go Bears.  Go God.

Trackback This Post | Subscribe to the comments through RSS Feed