Five days shalt thou labour, as the Bible says. The seventh day is the Lord thy God’s. The sixth day is for football.
– Anthony Burgess
For many fans of the ‘beautiful game’, football isn’t just a sport, it’s a way of life. Photo: Jon Candy.
I am sure you have felt it too, that feeling of the numinous and the transcendent? Perhaps you feel this way when you gaze up into the night sky? Perhaps when you solve an extremely difficult mathematical question? Maybe when you step into a museum? I hazard that at some point in your life the hairs on the back of your neck have risen at moments such as these. As a humanist I am often told that this experience is solely a religious one. If that is true, I and millions of other secular humanists must therefore confess that we too are religious. Football is my religion and it may also be yours.
Perhaps you are a football fan, but do not share this view? Let me convince you.
The 1795 singer, young humanist, and BHA Patron Matt Healy equates football with ‘the warmth and wonder inhumed within the pursuit of the truth’.
The late Terry Pratchett once said: ‘The thing about football – the important thing about football – is that it is not just about football.’ He was absolutely correct too. Football is not simply twenty two people kicking a ball of compressed air for ninety minutes across a green field. Football is about community, football is about passion, and most of all football is about winning.
Supporting a football club has a lot in common with adopting a religious faith. As with religion, once you have chosen a football club you instantly become a part of that community; a community which may more accurately be described as a tribe. I wager any person who doubts this comparison ought to attend a football match and witness the fervour, the chants and the rivalry, not between opposing football teams but between opposing fans. To witness the shared, very public grief felt by football fans whose team has just been relegated or that has just lost in the cup final, is comparable only to the faithful on St. Peters Square upon the death of a Pope. In the face of oppression, as with religion, football can bring a community together. Often the most fundamental of football fans are those who have suffered the most because of their emotional attachment to their clubs. This suffering, like all suffering, can inspire hope in even the darkest of times.
Football tribalism induces a passion in people not seen since the days when the Church ruled medieval Europe. To this day historians debate the reasons why thirty thousand people suddenly left behind their homes and their families and migrated to the Near East. The general consensus is that religious tribalism in these people invoked such strong feelings of passion that they were compelled to migrate because of the calling of Christ. This migration is called the First Crusade. We may think that we are far removed from the days of Church ruled Europe. We would be wrong. Each week millions of people across the world travel hundreds, sometimes thousands of miles to watch a football game. For these people football is their ‘religion’.
“Each week millions of people across the world travel hundreds, sometimes thousands of miles to watch a football game. For these people football is their ‘religion’.”
These dedicated fans do it because they have an emotional attachment to their team. They cry when they lose, and feel delirious when they win. Football like religion is about hoping your team you have chosen to support will win. The difference with religion in this case is that the winning in a religious sense only takes place after your own demise. Religious people hope that their faith is the one true faith. They cannot all be correct, that would be absurd just as absurd as two opposing football teams each winning in the cup final.
Football possesses many of the virtues of religion and I have only outlined three, but naturally it also embraces many of the vices too. With tribalism comes violence and hatred, with losing feelings of despair and emptiness. Football is religion for humanists but what I would also say is that football encapsulates the very humanity of sport. I feel that it is for this reason why in all our millions we go to such great lengths to watch those twenty two people kicking a ball of compressed air for ninety minutes across a green field. It is the drama of a last minute goal that wins you the league, or the beauty of seeing Lionel Messi come closer to the divine than any other human that has ever lived. It is the sportsmanship too: how can we forget that tragic day that Fabrice Muamba’s life was saved by a heart surgeon sitting in the home stand who rushed onto the pitch to rescue an opposing player?
Football can be like a religion to humanists, I say, but it is also so much more. Football is a celebration of humanity. As with any celebration often there are those who work tirelessly behind the scenes to ensure that humanity can be celebrated. Perhaps you wish to be one of these people? If so, then the Young Humanists are for you. I look forward to seeing you at one of their excellent launch parties very soon!
In the sweep of its appeal, its ability to touch every corner of humanity, football is the only game that needed to be invented.
– Bobby Charlton
Martin Smith, Young Humanist and former Secretary of the National Federation of Atheist, Humanist and Secular Student Societies (AHS), and Manchester United fan.
Young Humanists is the 18-35s section of the British Humanist Association. Find out more about what they do and how to get involved at younghumanists.org.uk.
All attachments to football are as egregious as religious attachments. Once human beings are relegated to a tribe they cease having any humanity. Like the “sport” worshiped as “the beautiful game”, supporters of football are ugly.
Toast: religion for humanists?
Five days shalt thou labour, as the Bible says. The seventh day is the Lord thy God’s. The sixth day is for toast.
– Anthony Burgess
(Image caption: For many fans of the ‘beautiful slice’, toast isn’t just bread, it’s a way of life.)
I am sure you have felt it too, that feeling of the numinous and the transcendent? Perhaps you feel this way when you gaze up into the night sky? Perhaps when you solve an extremely difficult mathematical question? Maybe when you step into a museum? I hazard that at some point in your life the hairs on the back of your neck have risen at moments such as these. As a humanist I am often told that this experience is solely a religious one. If that is true, I and millions of other secular humanists must therefore confess that we too are religious. Toast is my religion and it may also be yours.
Perhaps you are a toast fan, but do not share this view? Let me convince you.
(Image caption: The 1795 singer, young humanist, and BHA Patron Matt Healy equates toast with ‘the warmth and wonder inhumed within the pursuit of the truth’.)
The late Terry Pratchett once said: ‘The thing about toast – the important thing about toast– is that it is not just about toast.’ He was absolutely correct too. Toast is not simply a slice of bread that has been browned by exposure to radiant heat. Toast is about community, toast is about passion, and most of all toast is about spreading.
Supporting toasting has a lot in common with adopting a religious faith. As with religion, once you have chosen a toasting entourage you instantly become a part of that community; a community which may more accurately be described as a tribe. I wager any person who doubts this comparison ought to attend a breakfast and witness the fervour, the chants and the rivalry, not between opposing toasters but between opposed jam spreaders and marmalade spreaders. To witness the shared, very public grief felt by diners whose toast has just been burnt or that fell on the ground after being buttered, is comparable only to the faithful on St. Peters Square upon the death of a Pope. In the face of oppression, as with religion, toast can bring a community together. Often the most fundamental of toast fans are those who have suffered the most because of their emotional attachment to their toaster. This suffering, like all suffering, can inspire hope in even the darkest of times.
Toast tribalism induces a passion in people not seen since the days when the Church ruled medieval Europe. To this day historians debate the reasons why thirty thousand people suddenly left behind their homes and their families and migrated to the Near East. The general consensus is that religious tribalism in these people invoked such strong feelings of passion that they were compelled to migrate because of the calling of Christ. This migration is called the First Crusade. We may think that we are far removed from the days of Church ruled Europe. We would be wrong. Each week millions of people across the world travel hundreds, sometimes thousands of miles to eat toast. For these people toast is their ‘religion’.
These dedicated fans do it because they have an emotional attachment to their toaster. They cry when it burns their toast, and feel delirious when their toast jumps out. Toast, like religion, is about spreading, preferably using knives. The difference with religion in this case is that the spreading in a religious sense takes place without butter. Religious people hope that their faith is the one true faith. They cannot all be correct, that would be just as absurd as spreading jam on a piece of untoasted bread.
Toast possesses many of the virtues of religion and I have only outlined three, but naturally it also embraces many of the vices too. With tribalism comes violence and hatred, with burnt toast feelings of despair and emptiness. Toast is religion for humanists but what I would also say is that toast encapsulates the very humanity of breakfast. I feel that it is for this reason why in all our millions we go to such great lengths to watch those toasters browning bread by exposure to radiant heat. It is the drama of a slice popping out perfectly browned, or the beauty of spreading jam on a a piece of toast that came closer to being burnt than any other piece of bread has ever been. It is the buttering too: how can we forget that tragic day that a slice of buttered toast was saved by a man sitting on the opposite side of the table, who ran to the other side and caught it before it fell to the ground?
Toast can be like a religion to humanists, I say, but it is also so much more. Toast is a celebration of humanity. As with any celebration often there are those who work tirelessly behind the scenes to ensure that humanity can be celebrated. Perhaps you wish to be one of these people? If so, then the Young Humanists are for you. I look forward to seeing you at one of their excellent launch parties very soon!
‘In the sweep of its appeal, its ability to touch every corner of humanity, toast is the only food that needed to be invented.’
– Bobby Charlton
All that is true but… No football fan ever believes that their club is the one true club above all others (as Chelsea fans are learning this season). I can remember being at Fratton Park when we applauded Arsenal off the pitch after a stunning display of football that resulted in us losing 5-1. Thierry Henry came back into the pitch wearing a Pompey shirt to acknowledge our applause. You won’t get that between opposing religions as it would be seen as heresy. And then there’s the regular terrace chant of “We’re not very good…” I’m not sure I’ve ever heard a religious person say that about their side.
A religion os a set of prophets that make permanent conclusions which they call a ‘credo’ . As far as I know the only conclusion that has been reached in football is to pay footballers a great deal of money without any other reponsiblity than get the ball in the net. Football has prophets though -too many of them and they cannot all be right.
All tribal attachments to football are as egregious as religious attachments. Once human beings are relegated to any tribe they cease all pretensions to humanity. Like the “sport” worshiped as “the beautiful game”, tribal supporters of football are ugly. Football is also a rudimentary gateway to nationalism.
Neal, I know absolutely nothing about you but as somebody who was born in humble surroundings in the centre of a city I am guessing that you were not. As you have never seen me then I can only assume that it is my passion that you find ugly and not my appearance. That passion was handed down to me from my Father, who after a five and a half day week in a filthy job would hoist me onto his shoulders to gaze in awe at the working mans ballet. Football, the great bond that is still our point of reference through the joys and tradgedies that life has in store. Once you have your team it is for life. You will love no other for as long in life as you love your team. No matter how often your heart is broken, you will not forsake them for others. You won’t divorce them, or sneak off for a bit on the side with the team down the road. No matter where you live, you will seek them out with heart in mouth to discover how they have fared, and whether delighted or dejected do it all again week in week out. Yes it sounds totally irrational so perhaps it is a religion after all.
“Football is about winning” He was obviously not Welsh.
But Gareth Bale is definitive proof of the existence of God. I’m going to France for the Euro finals and sod the nutters with the AK47s.