a christian defense of limited competition: part three

Superficial and Arbitrary versus Pure and Arbitrary Competition: Thoughts on Sports and Fanaticism

To my own surprise, I have come to believe that playing sports—and to a lesser degree, watching sports—can aid in Christian discipleship. However, to make sports a useful tool it must always be kept within the confines of superficial and arbitrary competition. Whenever games and sports are played or vicariously enjoyed for the primary purpose of finding a winner over a loser—pure and arbitrary competition—they forfeit the good that competitive activities have to offer discipleship.      

There are plenty of examples of how competitive activities have benefited followers of Jesus. First of all, it takes incredible discipline to accomplish some of the feats in sports. As a high school teacher, I had the opportunity to watch students work with unmatched resolve to accomplish the goals they had set for themselves or their teams. Usually, though not always, that discipline carried over into other areas of their lives.

Also, sports or games can teach us the art of building community—collaborative hard work aimed towards a common goal is incredibly effective to this end. Teams learning to work together, to appreciate the role of every individual, to compensate for the weaknesses of some and make room for the strengths of others, all of this is training in the kind of body that Jesus instructs us to be.

Finally, competitive activities can create a new avenue for us to acquire particular goods that would otherwise be very difficult to attain. For example, some may find it difficult to incorporate healthy physical activity into their lives, but find that playing racquetball with a friend is both easier to gain motivation and still allows time for fellowship. Thus, competitive games can generate a more interesting and structured way to accomplish a good.

There are many more examples, I am sure, but one thing must be kept in mind—when competition is ultimately about finding a single victor, these goods are polluted. Community, self-discipline, joy, health—these  goods, and others like them,  can be shared by all who participate and must always be the primary purpose for which one engages in games or sports. When these goods are eclipsed by the desire to win, that competitive activity has ceased to be an instrument for discipleship and becomes an indulgence in pride. When establishing a winner over a loser becomes the primary reason for sports or games, one discovers that fellowship becomes rivalry, virtuous discipline becomes vicious conceit, health is turned to injury, and love becomes a strange concept that has no context.            

Keeping competitive activities within the confines of superficial arbitrary competition and making sure everyone wins at the end of the day is incredibly difficult. There are very strong currents that move against this task. Cultural pressure says that winning must be the point, anything else is absurd. Personally we feel our pride resisting the humility of seeking the good of others first. But this is precisely why competitive activities like sports can be such a good tool for discipleship. These forces, in society and in ourselves, are exposed. They can be resisted and they can be overcome. Yet, we must not neglect the responsibility to resist them, for many have already justified their surrender to social norms and human nature.    

  

Can we say, “It is just a game” without our insides aching? We need to be rid of the desires that well up and resist that possibility. We must be able to set aside pride, selfish ambition, and conceit. We must let it be just a game, just a tool for the goods that we all can share. And it is hard to do this when playing a competitive game, but surprisingly, it seems our culture has made it even more difficult to say “it is just a game” when watching it.

Fanaticism versus Spectatorship

In this section I want to consider what it means to be both a follower of Jesus and one who enjoys sports vicariously through sports teams in which they do not directly participate. To be a fan, shortened from the word fanatic, is to have an uncritical, arbitrary enthusiasm or zeal for something. In our current context, I assume that thing to be a sports team. While location or some other arbitrary personal connection, like a childhood memory or alma mater, seems to be the most common reason for allegiance, there is generally no principled reason for one’s fanaticism. Thus, the most common expression of sports fanaticism is a vicarious form of pure and arbitrary competition. Again, I believe that pure and arbitrary competition is the least likely kind of competition to resemble the way of Jesus and, therefore, believe that there must be an alternative to sports fanaticism if Christians are going to continue to vicariously engage in sports. I believe the alternative is spectatorship, allowing sports to be superficial and arbitrary, allowing all who watch to be edified.

In defense of sports fanaticism—swearing allegiance to one team—one might say that fanaticism serves the purpose of fellowship, or unity building. That is, the purpose for choosing one team is to deepen the connection one has to fellow fanatics. While unity and fellowship are definitely goods to be desired, and fanaticism has historically proven to offer this, building unity by choosing an arbitrary opponent or enemy is the worst kind of unity. Creating fellowship by arbitrarily alienating others is certainly not the way of Jesus. Unfortunately, my experience verifies the dangers of this kind of behavior. It is much too often the case that friendships and marriages, brotherhood and communities, are strained because of an arbitrary allegiance to teams. I wish this were an overstatement.

Still another objection might be that fanaticism is fun, it is the most pleasurable way to vicariously engage in sports. Even if that were true, though I am certain it is not, fun and pleasure alone can never serve as a justification. If we allow the fact that something is simply more pleasurable to justify our behavior, we can justify any indulgent and despicable action. However, I believe the alternative to fanaticism, what I am calling spectatorship, will open up a deeper level of enjoyment in vicariously engaging in sports.  

One of the flaws of fanaticism is that it undermines the virtue of the game. By virtue of the game I mean the best possible expression of the rules, best use of strategy within those rules, and highest potential of the specific skills needed in the players (for example, the virtue of a knife is sharpness, durability, etc.;  the virtue of a baseball is roundness, proper density and size, etc.).  The most obvious reason for cheering during a game is when it is virtuous—when a player makes a skillful maneuver, when an effective strategy is employed, when rules are accurately enforced, and so on. Rather, fanatics prefer to demonize every action of the “opposing” team, refusing to acknowledge the virtue that has been displayed. Thus, one who truly loves the game, as opposed to a team, and is willing to cheer for virtue is even “worse” than the opposition, deserving of the most violent derision.  To be a team fanatic means one must swear an uncritical allegiance to a team, even when the team lacks all the virtues of the game, undermining the very thing that the players have trained to accomplish. (It should not surprise us then, given this kind of conditioning from childhood, that people find it so natural, and so necessary, to swear uncritical allegiance to a nation or a political party or a religious group, no matter how virtuous.)

I do not mean to say that one cannot follow a team, have a preferred winner, or feel a connection to a particular team or player. Rather, I want to make a case for a slightly more detached, more critical approach than fanaticism, what I have been calling spectatorship. To cheer for the virtuous elements of the game, to appreciate excellence no matter who displays it, to be critical of even one’s preferred team would create a unity in spectatorship that fanaticism could never offer. Kansas and Missouri fanatics should let go of their arbitrary allegiances and find unity in an appreciation of the game. This would completely disarm the vicarious pure and arbitrary competition that is dissonant with discipleship and turn it into something mutually beneficial to all who engage in it. Even though the preferred team lost, everyone still wins—a good and virtuous game was played and enjoyed.

Recently, a friend of mine invited me to watch a basketball game with him. This man was older and wiser than me, so I decided that, though I saw little value in the game, I might benefit from the time spent with him. It turns out I learned quite a bit. I was pleasantly surprised to see that, though he had a preference that one team win over the other, he was equally impressed by the skill of each and every player, regardless of the team. Many times throughout the game he reminded me of the hours of hard work that must be invested into the few seconds it took to execute a play. He spoke critically about the character of the players, appreciating the patience and concentration of some, but disappointed in the egotistical, rash, or hostile behavior of others. When the game had concluded, the team that he preferred lost, but he was not angry or sad, rather he expressed gratitude that he had the opportunity to see such skill and hard work portrayed on his television—he said it was a good game. I suppose true fanatics will cringe, but this is how I imagine a follower of Jesus would enjoy a sports game.     

This experience opened my mind to a possibility that I had unfairly ruled out early on in life—watching sports can be beneficial. I believe if fanaticism can be transformed into spectatorship, then watching sports is much like engaging good music, paintings, literature, or film. A friend of mine once told me that Michael Jordan was “poetry in motion”—I am not quite the romantic he is, but I think I am closer to understanding his statement. The skill and discipline of an athlete, the excellent strategy of a coach, the flawless unity of a team, can inspire a person in the same way great works of literature can inspire a person.     

Of course, we have kept this discussion somewhat romanticized, pretending that sports and spectatorship are always purely about the game, though we know that it is—or has become—something much less attractive. It is not always only a game, but often it is also a business, bringing with it a much deeper complexity of competition. To support a group of athletes is one thing, but to support the business practices of administrative sports millionaires requires a very different critical approach.     

a christian defense of limited competition: part two

A Working Definition

First, let us get clear about what is meant by competition and form a working definition for this essay: competition is the rivalry between two or more people or communities for an end that cannot be shared equally. By this definition, I mean to say that competition is a struggle for first place, for a victory over the opponent, for the higher grade, for the desired job, for a piece of land, and so on. Beyond this, we will find that competition can be either pure or superficial, and that it can be either arbitrary or principled. That is what I would like to sort out now.

Pure Competition and Superficial Competition

The first of our sorting to be made is between pure and superficial competition. Pure competition is a strict adherence to the definition above and, at the core, is a struggle for the sake of victory over an opponent. That is, the purpose of the struggle is to be distinguished as a winner over the loser.

In contrast, superficial competition is a struggle that is undertaken, not ultimately for victory, but for an end that can be equally shared. Playing Wii Tennis with a group of friends, either because one wants to increase hand-eye coordination or because one wants to have a good time, would be an example of a struggle aimed at an end that can be shared equally among all participants. I call this superficial because, in the end, everyone gets what they set out for--everyone is a winner--which seems to contradict the very definition of competition. It is only competition at the surface.

In short, superficial competition means winning the struggle or game is secondary to the primary goal of having fun or developing certain skills or so on. And conversely, pure competition means the primary goal is always victory, no matter the secondary benefits, and the loser is primarily a loser, no matter the secondary benefits.

To distinguish between the two one can simply ask whether the struggle would be stopped if a goal other than victory were not being accomplished. That is, would one turn off the Wii if people are no longer enjoying one another's company? If so, it is superficial because the primary goal is having fun not finding a winner. However, if one persists in Wii Tennis, despite the fact that one or all have ceased to enjoy the game, then it is pure because the primary goal is to find a winner.

Arbitrary Competition and Principled Competition

Now we turn to the distinction between arbitrary and principled competition. Arbitrary competition describes the situations where the opposing sides have no objective or principled reason why they should be engaged in a struggle or why one opponent should win over the other; there are only relative gains or personal interests. For example, it is arbitrary whether the Boys beat the Girls in a game of Catch Phrase. While there may be a desirable gain for the Boys, such as bragging rights or vindication, there is no objective reason to believe that the Boys should subdue the Girls. That is, the Boys are certainly invested in a victory, but the Girls are equally invested; deciding which one ought to win is completely relative to the interests of the individuals involved.

This may make more sense when contrasted with its opposite, principled competition. In this case, the struggle is undertaken on the basis of a principle and there is an objectively desirable victor; it is a matter of principle that one side win over the other. For example, we can imagine a scenario where a greedy landlord has manipulated the law, taking advantage of a family and driving them out of their home, all the while making significant financial gain in the process. It is an objective matter of justice that one engages in a struggle—in this case, a legal battle—to be victorious over the other. This does not mean that there are not relative gains and personal preferences involved. Indeed, the landlord, and likely his attorney as well, have an interest in being victorious, protecting the money he has acquired unjustly. Yet, I would argue that there is a principled, objective reason why the family should be victorious--it is a matter of right and wrong, justice and injustice, truth and falsity, good and evil.

One can judge between these two by asking the question, "Will the world truly be better off if one side is victorious over the other?" In the case of arbitrary competition, the answer would be no—at least, from an objective point of view. I do not want to get ahead of myself, but in the case of sports, one might feel as though the world will be better if their team wins, but one must finally admit that this is completely arbitrary. However, in the case of principled competition, the world does objectively benefit from one side winning over the other, as in the example of the landlord and the family. If the family wins in the legal struggle, the world has objectively become a more just place is better off because of it.

Of course, one could complicate this distinction by raising a question about the nature of objectivity. However, the purpose of this essay is to give a Christian defense of limited competition, and therefore I take for granted some basic Christian presuppositions. Namely, that there is objective truth and morality; that this morality is revealed through scripture; and that while there may be conflicting views on the interpretation of scripture, Christians are committed to each other in love, resulting in a humble community that seeks to find truth in and through their disagreements. All that is to say, while there may not be an easy way to parse out an agreeable distinction between principled and arbitrary competition, we can certainly agree that there is a right answer to the question.

To take our definition of competition yet one step further, we may combine these distinctions in order to more accurately describe just what kind of competition we are discussing. So, we may talk about a pure and principled competition such as a debate about legalizing incest. Or we can talk about a superficial and arbitrary competition such as a little league baseball game. Or finally, we may talk about pure and arbitrary competition such as most business in a capitalist economy. (As for a superficial and principled competition, there can be no such thing—or at least I cannot think of an example.) In the following parts I would like to consider these combined distinctions even further and then draw some conclusions about a Biblical perspective on competition.

a christian defense of limited competition: part one

To be completely honest, competition is one of the most difficult subjects for me to address without a bias. I have never stood up well in highly competitive situations, and thus, have grown to despise them. So there may be some underlying prejudices that I am not aware of that influence the conclusions that I make. But, to my credit in this endeavor, I have ended with a conclusion that I had not held when I started. That is, I have discovered some of those biases, thought through them critically, and then finding them unfounded, have chucked them out the window. This has allowed me to see competition in a new, and hopefully more accurate, light. I suppose I would like to challenge everyone to that same end. I am certain there are many biases on this subject--let us be rid of them and submit ourselves to the discipleship of Jesus.

My goal in writing this essay has become an effort to isolate a particular kind of competition that is consistent with the guiding principles of Christian morality laid out in the life of Jesus and revealed through scripture. After a lot of discussion and study, I have come to the conclusion that there is a form of competition that can be positive for discipleship, though I think the parameters are narrow.

The Guiding Principles

What are the relevant principles by which a Christian should judge whether competition is good for a person or society? That is the question that I would like to answer at the outset; I would like to adjust the focus on our critical eye so that we may clearly see the parts that are in harmony or conflict with the worldview given to us by Jesus through scripture.

First, I would like to consider humility. Humility is one of those traits in Jesus that the secular world has a difficult time understanding or respecting, and therefore, has been something that the Church has tried to excuse or even deny. Yet, the second chapter of Philippians gives a vivid, undeniable example of the kind of humility that Jesus models. The chapter opens with this admonition: “Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” Whatever we conclude about competition, we should agree that forfeiting our humble concern for the well-being of others would be a violation of our discipleship.

Along the same lines of humility, James 3:13-18 tells us to put off selfish ambition, an important thing to evaluate in a discussion about competition, and instead take up a more Jesus-like wisdom: “Who is wise and understanding among you? Let him show it by his good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom. But if you harbor bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast about it or deny the truth. Such 'wisdom' does not come down from heaven but is earthly, unspiritual, of the devil. For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you find disorder and every evil practice. But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace raise a harvest of righteousness.”

Again, not straying too far from what we have already laid out, Paul says in Colossians 3, “Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” These particular “articles of clothing” can be summed up in the principle that Jesus, in his Sermon on the Mount, calls meekness. We should certainly maintain a meek character, even in competition, if we want to follow Jesus and “inherit the earth”.

Of course, all of these things are bound up in the essential principle of love. Paul gives a description of this love, what he calls the most excellent way, in 1 Corinthians 13:4-7: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

What is interesting, and incredibly challenging, about Jesus’ call to love is that he is radically liberal with it. That is to say, he offers it to everyone, and to a shockingly painful degree. He not only commands his followers to love each other, but also their enemies. He makes it clear what he means by this by allowing his enemies to execute him, and then prays for God to forgive them for it. This is the kind of radical love that Jesus expects of his followers, and it is the kind of love that we should not violate in our concept of competition.

Now our critical eye should be in focus with these guiding principles as we consider how competition might benefit the ongoing discipleship of a follower of Jesus. Once again, to prepare our minds, here is the list of the relevant principles we have found in scripture: meekness, compassion, kindness, gentleness, patience, mercy, submission, humility, righteousness, peace, being considerate of others’ well-being, impartiality, sincerity, and finally, love. Is there a form of competition that we can participate in without losing these virtues? And if so, is there a compelling reason to employ such competition? These are the questions I will seek to answer in the next three parts that will follow.

goodness... it is cold

I remember walking to class in the winter when I lived in Manhattan. I would bounce my eyes between the sidewalk and the poor souls around me, not wanting to fall on my ass but not wanting to miss them falling on their asses. So many winter afternoons were brightened in the Blue House with hilarious stories of the cartoon-like slips we had seen that day.

I also remember walking in the freezing weather when, usually in front Wefald's house, I would begin praying... Was winter your idea? It is so painful, so deadly. How did California get off the hook?

I would also begin to recognize the blessing that the bitter cold brought. As I regularly tell Sara, it is invigorating! Somehow, I remember those walks very fondly.

Suffering tends to have this pattern for me. I remember being a cabin leader at a summer camp and feeling totally spent the final weeks of the summer... the last weeks when I was constantly on the verge of tears because I hadn't really slept for two months. These are the weeks that I cherish the most.

I grew up in a home that wasn't always welcoming. I remember sitting in my friends living room after leaving an ugly fight at my house... my closest friends were sitting there with me, feeling my pain with me, and struggling to find some reason to laugh with me. This is one of my favorite memories.

I know I am saying nothing new... I guess I am reminding myslef that there can be goodness in...through...after... the cold and the pain. More than that, I am calling myself out. If so much of my life is a testimony of how suffering can bear such beautiful fruit, why do I sit in all of these warm places?

dancing is still unchristian

I do not dance. Most people who know me at least know that. Unfortunately, the little girls at Love in Action did not know this about me when I suggested that we celebrate one of our last evenings together. They innocently insisted that I join them on the roof-top where they intended to teach me some traditional Indian dancing. I explained that my body is not capable of such things... that someone might get hurt... that dancing is not Christian... that no human should ever be so undignified.

Thankfully, it was late enough at night that there was very little light shed on my complete loss of dignity. I could not turn down twenty orphan girls. It was humiliating, it was ugly, and it was dangerous for those who got too close. The girls were overtaken by laughter as they watched me hop and stumble and bow and twirl and kick and... hell... I don't know what I was doing. We all stopped to catch our breath after each song--the girls were laughing too hard, I was simply out of shape.

But ultimately, I believe this experience was one of the more beautiful of my many lovely experiences in India. The beauty was in forgetting myself; it was a rare moment when I was totally free from my pride.

That night we celebrated God: the One who saves us from evil, hunger, poverty, and ourselves.

the sights

a tea leaf

lots of tea leaves

breakfast on a banana leaf

villains at rest

wild elephant

divine elephant

chennai beach cart

gandhi in chennai

healthcare

after school snack

lost appetite

working from home

capitalism

simplicity

fashion

two-wheelers

a modern indian

an old indian

a long ride

a family ride


Meet the children from Love in Action:

making faces

creating a distraction

preparing for dinner

the smile

the story-teller

the baby

shyness

bubbles

the sass

the sweetest

Indian faces with dignity:

selling guavas

emotional pose one

emotional pose two

emotional pose three

emotional pose four

from india

Hello friends…

I hope the summer has been treating you well. The weather is so beautiful here in India. It is monsoon season, which means it is a lovely seventy degrees, sometimes a little cooler… definitely not what I expected. Besides enjoying the weather and the food, I have been helping out at an orphanage in Bangalore and will spend the last week in July visiting another very famous orphanage near the southern tip of India. Somewhere in between, on my way to the south, I think I am going to go on a safari. I am pretty excited about the detour. I have also had plenty of time to think here… and after a mere three weeks in India I have come to three unrelated conclusions. If you have the time to read a lengthy post, I would like to share them with you.

One of the few conclusions that I have made is about my friends at home, the few great people I have had the privilege of living my life with these last few years—they are of the rarest kind. I have often boasted of the quality of people that God has placed in my life, though I secretly wondered whether this was exaggerated because of my lack of experience. I am happy to say, after traveling to the opposite side of the planet, I have a new confidence on this matter and intend to boast even more in God’s provision. My brothers and sisters in Christ are truly something special and I am humbled that God would allow me to have such a fellowship. I miss them very much.

Perhaps my second conclusion is a bit bold for only a few weeks, but it seems safe to say it: I will not be the same after this visit to India. I have been staying at an orphanage in Bangalore that is filled to capacity with about twenty children. It is a very humble space, about the size of a typical two-story house in America… but lacking many of the luxuries. However, I can say with confidence, that the children here have a wealth unmatched in the prosperous homes of America. They possess true freedom through discipline, daily prayer, regular labor, and most importantly, loving fellowship. The name of the orphanage—Love in Action—describes this place as precisely as words are able. The family that started this ministry, and who has welcomed me into their home (which is the orphanage itself), is truly the most loving group of people I have met. Please allow me to take a moment to introduce them:

Enoch, the patriarch I suppose, is an elderly but vibrant man who is full of wisdom and humility, someone I already deeply respect. His wife, who I call Auntie, is a frail old woman in her frame, but her strength as a mother and wife over the years is astonishing. And finally, their daughter, Nancy, displays such tenderness to both her extensive collection of animals as well as to all twenty children—she is the essence of motherhood.

There are many ways God is using this orphanage in my life, but I will share just one of the experiences here that will likely change me forever. Shortly after I arrived, I had the privilege of seeing the children celebrate Father’s Day. I felt a little awkward honestly… Father’s Day in an orphanage… I did not know what to expect. After breakfast, the children announced that they would be hosting an event that evening and would like for us to attend… upstairs. Of course we went, arriving upstairs at the specified time. The children put together an elaborate performance of song and traditional dance, praising their Heavenly Father. At the end, the children also honored Enoch for providing for them and protecting them. I cried the entire time. I kept remembering all the verses I have read about justice—many of which are related to orphans—and felt as though all my recent clumsy efforts to grasp a Biblical vision for social justice were radically challenged by the simplicity and humility of love in action.

Another less personal conclusion I have made is that Americans have a lot to learn from India, particularly about democracy and social justice. In a sense, there are more social injustices—at least more obvious ones—in India than there are in America. However, there is a strong voice for the poor and the oppressed which is a great victory for both democracy and justice. In the words of an Indian economist, Amartya Sen, “Silence is a powerful enemy of social justice.” Democracy is tangible here, whereas, in America, it is like a faint memory that we now look on with skepticism. Just one example: I have seen street-side demonstrations from the Communist Party, the Hindu Fundamentalists, and the dozen political parties in between. People join together to make their variety of concerns heard and are not limited by the narrowness of our two-party system.

Indian politics have also raised many questions I am eager to explore. For instance, secularism here has a totally different connotation. It is, in fact, promoted by all the Christians that I have met. This is partly due to a different understanding of the concept. For the Indian, secularism more or less means religious freedom, as opposed to the Western sense of the absence of religion in the public sphere. In other words, Indian secularism emphasizes religious ‘neutrality’ while Western secularism emphasizes religious ‘prohibition’. Could this kind of secularism be better for America? More importantly, is this secularism, with great irony, advancing the Kingdom of God in India? I am still asking these questions.

I look forward to returning and sharing our summer experiences with one another. I miss everyone so much.

Sincerely…