Baseball and Religion

             I read an interesting little article on baseball and religion.  The comparison is not unusual.  There have been many books, movies and academic studies on sports and religion.  In fact, in the academy scholars have been doing this for decades now.  Of course, one could argue both sports and religion are as old as recorded history.  Certainly, most of us are aware of the Greeks and the Olympics.  We hear something of this connection every four years when athletes gather in some country around the world and compete in a bewildering array of sports. 

            The thing that attracted me to this most recent article was the author, Jacob Lupfer, made his contention known in the title of the article, “Baseball, like religion, can teach us something about enchantment.”  I am always interested in that word, enchantment.  It is a word that lures me, but when I ask students or even other folks what it means, they always have trouble defining it.  With this interest in mind, I jumped into reading Lupfer’s article.

            Rather than begin with enchantment, the author began on a note of despair.  He contends that “the most salient connection between religion and baseball is their increasingly tenuous status as honored institutions in American life.”  I agree with his claim and eagerly wanted to see his analysis of the situation.  Basically, he assumes both baseball and religion are increasingly seen as irrelevant to more and more Americans.  Attendance continues to go down for both enterprises. 

            I was very intrigued by how he describes what both baseball and religion have in common.  He says, “Both carry forward tradition to give meaning to the present.  Both are firmly rooted in physical reality yet always point to the unseen, the improbable and even the impossible. Their inherent order is punctuated by moments of ecstasy.”  He is correct that both are rooted in tradition.  Certainly, all major religious traditions have a long history.  Even something like New Age spirituality borrows much from the various aspects of these long traditions. 

            Baseball and religion, he notes, are rooted in physical reality.  That is true more for religion than baseball, as I think about it.  It is easy---and has been for a while---to watch baseball on television and now on mobile devices and the like.  But that was less true for religion.  However, since Covid a whole new spectrum of “church attendance” has opened up via zoom and other platforms.  This undoubtedly will continue to affect in-person attendance.  The times, they are a changin’, as the old Rock song goes.

            Finally, I was drawn to his idea that the inherent order of both is punctuated by moments of ecstasy.  I agree with him.  Thinking even further into the matter, I believe the ecstasy is special because it always comes as serendipity.  The walk-off home run is a great example of that.  And an outpouring of the Spirit upon an individual or group literally transforms an experience and lives of those experiencing it.  In fact, one can say that we live for these moments.  Perhaps it is the hope for such an experience is what makes putting up with boring games and boring services understandable.

            But the news for both baseball and religion is not good.  Understanding that routine is the norm for so many games and so many services is not sufficient anymore.  Americans at least want more.  Perhaps it is fair to say that we don’t care about enchantment so long as we can be entertained.  Other sports and other things besides religion do a better job of entertaining say more and more Americans.  They are voting with their feet---literally and figuratively.  They are walking out of both enterprises. 

            At this point I realize Lupfer’s analysis and my own run parallel.  I will use his words to make this last point.  He believes “What people want today is not the glorification of an American past but indelible, life-enhancing experience.”  I think this is spot on.  History is clearly important and tradition is one way history is preserved and made present.  But not all tradition is an experience---much less an indelible, life-enhancing experience.  Indelible means something makes a mark that cannot be removed.  For example, simply going to church and reciting the Nicene Creed or to the synagogue and saying the Shema does not always equate to having a life-enhancing experience.  As Quakers say, these do not always “speak to our condition.”

            They can seem old-fashioned and boring.  Too many folks think the same indictment is true of baseball.  When I think about religion, I am confident we need to find ways to let the Spirit intersect the life of people.  Fewer and fewer folks are going to an institution to find that.  And when we do, so often it is disappointing.  Too many visits to a church or synagogue do not leave any mark at all, much less an indelible mark. 

            Theologically, I believe the Spirit is everywhere at all times.  It is available in fresh ways, in new places and in creative ways.  In fact, I suggest we look for the Spirit in front of us instead of searching what is behind, i.e. in tradition.  I suggest the goal of religion and baseball cannot be simply to get folks back in the seats again.  Be governed by where experience is, not where the seat is.  It requires a different kind of leadership, a different kind presence and a different kind of engagement. 

            Enchantment only comes through engagement.  And engagement is rooted in experience, not tradition.