| self-expression and tradition | | Date Created: Jul 10, 2006, 09:40 AM |

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For most people who aren't Italian, this world cup will most likely be remembered for the cards. The Incident of the Three Yellows and the record-breaking Portugal-Netherlands match, of course, but especially the sending off of Rooney for stamping and of Zidane for head-butting. Friends of the latter two explained their behaviour ("explain not excuse" said Zidane's coach) by appealing to the players' understandable frustration, in one case by provocation from a defender and in the other by the use of a formation which left Rooney as the lone striker. We all shake our heads. Explain, maybe, but not excuse. What a shame to end your tournament on such a disgrace.
Dis-grace. Interesting word.
Yet I saw moments of good sportsmanship in both the Wimbledon and World Cup finals. What interests me is that they were not moments of spontaneity and self-expression, but moments of selves yielding to tradition. In the tennis, the commentators drew attention to it. Nadal had just won a point, but won it because of dumb luck: his shot hit the top of the net, bounced over Federer but landed in. Instead of celebrating with a fist-clenched "yes", Nadal looked solemn and raised one hand toward his opponent in a gesture that conveyed "sorry." This is a tradition in tennis, of course. It's become second nature. One commentator said to the other, "I wonder if he means that." The other replied "He's a good enough sport that he just might." One of my mentors, Tom Howard, would have loved this as an example of a point he never tired of making -- tradition can be the ally not the enemy of the Christian. Whether Nadal's apology was heart-felt or not, I can't tell, but it seems clear to me that, left to my own devices in that situation, I would celebrate. But by having a tradition to follow, I'm offered a chance to temper my selfish self-expression and acknowledge the other. When I am tempted to merely act "normally," thankfully tradition beckons me to act with "grace." And gives me an opportunity to feel it and mean it as well.
In football, even two teams that seem otherwise intent on injuring each other will often obey the tradition that when a player on the other team is down and hurt, you don't press the advantage that that gives you, but instead you deliberately give up possession and kick the ball out of play, trusting (what outrageous faith, in the circumstances!) that the other team will give it back later. This unwritten script, this football liturgy, is an example that Luther would have loved. The Laws of the game make no provision for such stoppages in play, but Grace has found a way. And, apparently, even the players who love to hog the ball have learned that This is what players are Supposed To Do in this situation and are coaxed into doing a good that is beyond their own self-interest, and beyond the letter of the law.
Not all traditions are good. There are bad ones in sport and Christianity. But these are to be resisted not because they are traditions but because they are bad. Tradition is not bad because it is tradition. The fact that it can be coupled with insincerity does not in itself make a tradition evil. If you think there's a problem that players are only grudgingly kicking the ball out of play or are insincere in their apologies, the answer is probably not to abolish the traditions and let the players find ways of expressing themselves more authentically. Not unless you're a fan of head-butting. Instead, in sports and in ecclesiology, I think we want to reinforce traditions that still have the power to suggest or beckon me to think outside the law, outside my self-interest and self-expression and toward the opposite of dis-grace -- toward grace. |
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