Learning to play spiritual football

Spirituality is 'like football' whereas religion is like 'the football team'. So spoke Alan, aged 36 and living in south London, in an interview which was part of The London Institute for Contemporary Christianity's research project, Beyond Belief?

Beyond Belief? looked at the barriers and bridges to faith today, interviewing 40 agnostics of various hues in London and Nottingham, and examining what it was about Christians, the Church, society, contemporary culture, or individuals themselves which deterred people from embracing, exploring or even contemplating the Christian faith. The result was a fascinating and messy mixture of hostility, ignorance, the need for hope, consumer mentalities, 'totalitolerance', scepticism, social fears, 'guerrilla morality', a pervasive sense of the numinous, the 'need for new words', and a whole host of other social trends. Central to them all was Alan's fascinating idea of 'spiritual football'.

Persistent spiritual need

Alan's metaphor was brilliantly creative. Its implications, which he hardly needed to draw out, epitomised much of what he and his fellow respondents believed. For a start, and in spite of much deep-rooted anti-religious sentiment, which verged in some cases onto an active loathing of things Christian, most if not quite all of the respondents interviewed recognised some kind of spiritual need.

This might be a vague sense of 'something else', a 'higher power', a sense of awe in creation, or even in our intrinsically 'big question-asking' nature: as one young man remarked, 'What have you lived say 50/60 years for? To die?... You could say that everyone is spiritual because everyone thinks about that at some point.' Whichever form it took, it was persistent and clearly not - as Marx suggested! - merely a socio-economic phenomenon. The people interviewed were resolutely comfortable 'middle England'. Their spirituality, vague and uncertain as it was, was hardwired into their system.

Slaves of the culture?

Yet it was a spirituality in thrall to the cultural trends which so powerfully (and often unconsciously) shaped their minds. Choice was mandatory. 'I [want to] pick my favourite parts of different religions or pick something that I have invented, if you like, [something] that I feel comfortable with', as one young woman told me.

Old was, by definition, out-of-date. 'A lot of the rules that were set out so many thousands or millions of years ago or whatever, they are not really as relevant in today's society', commented another young woman.

Most importantly, personal freedom was king, an enthronement with several important implications. The practicalities of living out your spirituality, such as through attending a regular gathering like church, were deemed unnecessarily constricting. You could be spiritual without going to church, was a frequent chorus.

More seriously, this enthronement of personal liberty had crucial consequences in the moral sphere. Intolerance was one of the Church's greatest sins and, in the minds of some respondents at least, the root of the world's problems. If only people (mainly religious people) could just be tolerant of one another...

Not to be tolerated

So enthusiastically was the virtue of tolerance lauded, that its long-recognised Achilles' Heel soon emerged. Those who were criticised for being intolerant were unacceptable in today's society: they were simply not to be tolerated. Tolerance soon morphed into 'totalitolerance', an aggressive and absolutist doctrine which tied itself up in contradictions.

Ironically, even those people who most praised the virtues of tolerance recognised its failings. Too little tolerance and you were beyond the pale, but too much had you venturing into the almost equally detested world of political correctness. More pointedly, society actually needed a bit of intolerance, particularly when it came to anti-social behaviour, especially regarding children. 'I think we all as parents recognise that it is a good thing having our children disciplined and saying that you can't go around society doing what you want to... the state schools are overlooking that whole moral element', one concerned (and, ironically, aggressively anti-religious) mum said.

That said, tolerance still remained a shibboleth, an important self-definition which marked you out as a decent human being. The necessary intolerance which marks any group activity, particularly ones concerned with people's lives and morals, was unacceptable.

Football and the team

And here was where Alan's spiritual football came in. Because enjoying a game of football does not entail obeying rules and regulations. Instead, when you have a casual kick-around with your mates in the park, you can play when you like, where you like, for as long as you like, in what position you like, with whom you like, and according to whichever rules (or none) you like. You are in charge and capable of shaping circumstances to your own pleasure.

Playing for the football team, on the other hand, is constricting. It insists you turn up regularly, for training as well as matches. It demands you keep fit, play in an assigned position, in a particular time and place, accept the coach's and referee's decisions, adapt to your team mates' needs and generally do what you are told.

The analogy should be clear. As a modern individual, whose mind has been all-too-subtly shaped by the modern holy trinity of consumerism ('I want'), liberalism ('why not?') and technology ('here's how'), 'I' do still want to explore my spiritual nature. Material things don't quite seem to satisfy. Nor, strangely enough, does being told I am a purposeless, meaningless animal in a directionless, loveless universe. I still want to explore questions of identity, purpose and direction but will do so as and when it suits me. Whether it is through prayer, meditation, mysticism, Kabbalah, feng shui, practical philosophy, or visiting churches, depends on how I feel. But the important thing is that it is on my terms: that it fits into my diary and suits my self-image.

What I am not interested in doing is dancing to someone else's tune. I don't want to have to turn up week-in, week-out in the same draughty, old building and listen to the same irrelevant old message - particularly if there are more enjoyable things to be doing on a Sunday morning. I'm happy, in fact eager, to play spiritual football but I don't want to sign up for the religious football team.

Reverse side

Alan's metaphor was, therefore, a brilliantly acute analogy for the way we see faith today. It was particularly sharp, however, not just because it pithily captured the consumer critique of 'religion', but because it had an intriguing, if unrecognised, reverse side to it. Playing football is about enjoyment not achievement. Your casual kick around may be fun but it won't help you improve. Nor will it enable you to build up that sense of companionship and camaraderie which is perhaps the most precious feeling in life.

Being part of the football team, on the other hand, will. Playing in the football team is about having a purpose and direction - a goal, if you will excuse the pun. It is about getting better, about improving yourself and your skills. It is about teamwork and learning how to work together, as one body. Ultimately, being in a team is about optimising your talents, becoming who you can be, in relationship and with purpose. As a metaphor for the Christian vision of being human it is hard to better. Our problem today is that in our unwillingness to sign up for any team, we stand in danger of missing out on the league altogether.

Conducting research is a double-edged sword. The researcher has an absolute right to ignore what his or her respondents say, a right which is critically important in a project where one individual can suggest in all seriousness that the way forward for the church would be to 'knock the cross down, make it more modern, user-friendly. Take the church bit away from it'.

Nevertheless, it would be arrogant and pointless to conduct research and accumulate metaphors like Alan's without listening seriously, considering their implications and reacting appropriately. In this instance - the research report contains many more suggestions - it is important to hear and respond to the 'consumer' critique.

Humans may indeed be irreducibly 'spiritual' animals but precisely how this works itself out will vary hugely from one culture to another. Our love of choice, rejection of tradition and enthronement of freedom does have something to recommend it. Few of us today have experienced the stifling claustrophobia of a rigid and antiquated society which actively inhibits individuals from growing, maturing and fulfilling their potential for fear of its wider, destabilising effects. It is only those societies which have reaped the benefits of liberty that find themselves counting its drawbacks.

Kick around

Yet, count its drawbacks we must; not so that we can preach to the spiritual footballers about the folly of their fun-filled kick around but so that, understanding their objections to the religious football team, we are able to show that rather than being a constricting and inconvenient chore, playing the team game is a fulfilling way of becoming who we were always meant to be.

To obtain a copy of Beyond Belief? Barriers and Bridges to Faith today please send a cheque made payable to LICC for £5.00 + 50p (for p&p) to Beyond Belief?, London Institute for Contemporary Christianity, St. Peter's, Vere Street, London W1G 0DG and your address.

Learning to play spiritual football

Nick Spencer shares what he learned from interviewing 40 agnostics

Persistent spiritual need

Slaves of the culture?

Not to be tolerated

Football and the team

Reverse side

Kick around

Nick Spencer

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