Taking a Knee

Philippians 2:1-4

Imitating Christ’s Humility

If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.

Professional sports were front and center this past weekend, but, unusually, for something that transcended sports. Because of a back and forth between the President of the United States and some of the most prominent professional athletes around (e.g., Steph Curry, Lebron James, and most of the NFL), suddenly free speech, the right to protest, and our collective unity were on the main stage. The President took issue with those who choose to use the civil religious ceremony of the pregame National Anthem as a moment to bring awareness to injustices and problems they believe need our notice. 

I believe firmly that our rights to protest, to gather together, and say what we believe are rights that are to be treasured and used. That is part and parcel of what makes the United States a grand experiment among the nations. We can speak freely, and we can critique our government without fear of governmental reprisal or silencing. These are foundational freedoms we enjoy as practitioners of religion, not incidentally, and, as a servant of the Church, I treasure the right to follow my faith without fear, to kneel or stand for what I believe, and to work for justice and peace even if that places me out of step with official doctrines. 

But even as I support those who choose to protest and even as I see the issues they seek to draw attention to as vital to our national health, I was afraid that it became something of a distraction from other urgently pressing needs at the moment when those needs outweighed all else. I prayed this was not simply a dinner table squabble between celebrities.

Puerto Rico and Dominica were rendered utterly helpless by Hurricane Maria. Mexico City spent the week agonizingly unearthing victims of a tremendous earthquake. The leaders of North Korea and the US rattled nuclear sabers at one another, threatening millions of people in Korea, Japan, Guam, and other places a whole lot closer to a potential ground zero than we are. 

Professional sports are entertainment. They are meant to be a diversion from life as it is—a moment to gather with friends and family, cheer our chosen heroes, eat too much onion dip, and then return to life as usual. But the arena can also become a public platform from which to shine light on grave problems before us. Millions are watching, so why not remind all of us that there is a wider, bigger world outside the stadium that will do so much better if we follow Paul’s counsel to the Philippians and keep the needs of others ever before us?

I admire teams in Houston and in Florida that are using their public place as a means to get help, aid, and assistance for their communities recovering from Hurricanes Harvey and Irma. I will never forget when Major League Baseball returned to Yankee Stadium after 9/11 and the Boston Red Sox rallied their town after the horrific bombing at the Boston Marathon. It felt good just to watch a kids’ game played by supremely talented grown-ups. But those games also became a statement of our collective unity, hope, and healing. The fact that we could take time out to watch people play was a huge statement of our ability to overcome and move beyond those things and people that would destroy us or drive us apart. 

If the players kneeling and linking arms can help all of us pull together to meet the crises, disasters, and human suffering before us, then great! If they open our eyes to human suffering, then well and good. Then they are using their public stage to call us to a better way of being. 

They certainly remind all of us within the community of Jesus of our call to address the suffering of the world. We are called by Jesus to enter the arena of hunger, hurt, helplessness, and hopelessness. We are to meet human suffering with words and action rooted in the compassionate heart of Christ. If a 300 lb. man in shoulder pads reminds me of my vocation, then, well done, good and faithful servant. 

But the bottom line is this—we live in an intensely conflicted moment when people would just as soon yell at each other as converse—our hope comes when we can put the needs of others before us, when we can lift out of our silo-ed lives and see the wide world before us, and then respond in compassion, grace, and mercy. Then there can be peace where no one is marginalized, left behind, left out, or left for dead.