It will surely be a festival, but is the Super Bowl religious? Most people will say “no” — but in terms of devotion, to a team or the game itself, the event often has religious zeal. Roman numerals set it apart as sacred time: This is Super Bowl LI. Pilgrimages began earlier this week from New England and Atlanta. Around sundown on Sunday, the service will begin with the invocation. Everyone stands to sing, “Oh say can you see, by the dawn’s early light…” An enormous American flag covers the field, carried by soldiers. Liturgical actions differ: Many place a hand over their heart. Men remove their caps. Some sing along with the soloist or choir. Others mouth the words in silence, as if praying.
As the invocation comes to a close, there is a sense of anticipation, then applause. Ushers move through the aisles. An offering is made, and the donor receives something tangible in return: A beer with a hot dog, a bag of popcorn, or another high sodium snack.
In church, people don’t usually receive anything that tangible — which may explain why people are willing to pay so much for a paper stub. A week before game time, available tickets ranged from $5000 to $16,674 — far more than most people ever consider giving to any church or charity.
Jesus didn’t talk about football, but that doesn’t keep players and fans from talking about Jesus. In his book Why Football Matters: My Education in the Game, Mark Edmundson remembers playing in high school: “The coach asked God and the Lord Jesus Christ to help us play a fair game…and asked that we might win the game if we were deserving. Then we said a prayer, usually it was the ‘Our Father.’ Football, it seemed, was a Christian game.”
Religion and patriotism and football get all mixed up on the same playing field. But they aren’t all the same. In his first teaching session in Matthew, Jesus said, “You are the salt of the earth…You are the light of the world.” (Matt. 5: 13-16) But what did Jesus mean by calling his followers to be salt and light? Did Jesus mean we should hold up a sign at the football game that says simply “John 3:16” as though everyone knows what that means?
We’re tempted to fill in Jesus’ metaphors with our own content. Maybe salt is prayer in the schools, or daring to say “Merry Christmas.” Maybe salt is justification by grace through faith or being born again or putting God’s name on our money. Maybe we believe America is a city set on a hill giving light to the world.
But Jesus’ metaphors aren’t as open-ended as we imagine. Salt and light already meant something when Jesus chose these metaphors. Salt and light were central images for the people of Israel: “You shall not omit from your grain offerings the salt of the covenant with your God…” (Lev. 2: 13)
Light appears often in the Old Testament: “Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.” (Ps. 119: 105)
Jesus chose these two images on purpose. To be salt and light means to be shaped by the ancient, life-giving law of God. Jesus said it plainly: “Think not that I have come to abolish the law and the prophets; I have come not to abolish them but to fulfill them.”
We can’t tear Jesus’ images from their roots in Hebrew scriptures.
There is another reading today, this one from the prophet Isaiah. These verses were written some time after the people of Israel returned from exile in Babylon. The last chapters of Isaiah are filled with visions of hope and urgent warnings. Here Isaiah speaks to people who are proud of their religious festivals and their piety. They fast in public and ask why God doesn’t pay attention. They complain directly to God: “Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves but you do not notice?” C’mon God! Give us some credit!
We often hear that the United States is shaped by “Judeo-Christian values.” Many people watching Sunday’s game would probably agree. But what does that mean? If we say Jews and Christians share some of the same Scriptures, that is closer to the truth. Both traditions turn to Isaiah 58 for guidance. I suppose we could hold up a sign at the game that says “Isaiah 58” — but people probably won’t know what it means. Isaiah gives a vivid picture of authentic religion: Let the oppressed go free, share your bread with the hungry, bring the homeless poor into your house, cover the naked, and don’t hide from your own kin.
That’s something to print on cups for next year’s Super Bowl. That’s the way God calls us to live. That’s what Jesus meant when he called us to be salt and light.
Don’t lose your saltiness. Don’t put your light under a bushel basket.
Via ON Scripture.
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