Eternity, the theologians say, is not extended time but altogether different, a different sphere of being, all-gathered-up simultaneity, presence, now. Those who have experienced contemplation – in prayer, play, the theater, painting, holding one’s own infant in one’s arms, and – yes – in sports – have already tasted it. We will know, at least, what to look for when we die. . . .
God is a sports fan. Certainly He is if He likes to see humans straining to their utmost to be the best He made them, making moments of imperishable beauty. Sports have to be among His glories. I do not pretend to speak for Him, but, looking everywhere for signs, I am often reminded of Him, not least by deeds of excellence and beauty. And so I think He must be, yes, an artist Who sees and approves of what He’s made. So exquisitely, for the pleasure of the rest of us. . . .
Sports is, somehow, a religion. You either see or you don’t see what the excitement is. I wish wives were not so often unbelievers; but then many of the male sex are agnostics, too.
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