(Rest assured, Yankee fans, this won’t be a call for a novena for the Red Sox. I am heading in a different direction. Bear with me.) For the last few years I have lived in a section of Connecticut where the Boston Red Sox games are carried by the local cable network.
I watch a few innings of their games, almost every day, usually while reading in the late evening. Instant replay permits me to do these two things at once. I am not a Red Sox fan in the strict sense of the term. For the most part, my allegiance to them is rooted in their rivalry with the New York Yankees.
Why my animosity toward the Yankees? Blame it on my youth. I was an ardent fan of the New York Giants — until they deserted me and moved to San Francisco. In my old neighborhood in New York City, Brooklyn Dodger and Giant fans did not equivocate about the Yankees. They were the villains. The fact that our friends who were Yankee fans spent most of their time gloating over the great successes of their team only added to our ill will toward the Bronx Bombers.
For some reason, after the Giants left town I was unable to switch my allegiance elsewhere. It is not that I have become too “sophisticated” to root for a team. I actually envy Yankee fans my age for being able to watch Derek Jeter trot out in the same uniform and to the same plot of earth where Phil Rizzuto and Tony Kubek once anchored the Yankee infield. I am confident that I would still be following the Giants with enthusiasm if Barry Bonds were playing leftfield where Monte Irvin once roamed, in a stadium constructed on the site of the old Polo Grounds. A few years ago, when there were rumors that the Giants would return to the New York metropolitan area, before the decision was made to build their new ball park in downtown San Francisco, I told friends, “If they come back, all is forgiven. I’ll become a Giant fan again.”
What does any of this have to do with Catholic issues? Well, the station that televises the Red Sox games is using a promotional ad that features a young boy seated in the stands at Fenway Park with his eyes closed and hands folded in prayer for a Red Sox victory. Am I sure the boy is praying? That he is petitioning God the Father for divine intervention? He certainly looks as if he is. He could be St. Dominic Savio or St. Tarcisius on a holy card. Then again, maybe he is not. When you see people with their eyes closed and fingers crossed at athletic events, usually they are doing nothing more than wishing intently for a favorable outcome on the field, much like a gambler will close his eyes and kiss his hand before he throws the dice.
But, for the sake of our discussion, let us say the boy was actually praying; that he was directly petitioning Jesus for a Red Sox victory. It’s possible that he was. I can remember as if it were yesterday, saying the Hail Mary as a nine-year-old in the moments before Bobby Thomson hit his home run in the 1951 playoff game against the Dodgers. Here’s the question: Is prayer of that sort something we should discourage in young people? Should we teach them to pray in a more grown-up manner? Should we point out to them that there are likely to be as many Yankee fans as Red Sox fans praying for their team and that God is not likely to favor one group of fans over another, that praying for an athletic victory is comparable to praying for a new bicycle, that it is not appropriate to think of God as some Greek deity who can be cajoled into doing our bidding on earth?
Yes, to all of the above.
But, having said that, we must undertake this task in a careful manner. A very careful manner. We must not demean the concept of prayers of petition in the process of educating our children to pray maturely. “Mature” does not mean like a Unitarian. Let us not throw out the baby with the bathwater. It would be regrettable if the televised images of this young Red Sox fan in prayer contribute to an atmosphere wherein prayers for God’s intervention in our lives are seen as child-like and “cute,” comparable to sending letters to Santa Claus at the North Pole.
God hears our prayers. Jesus assured us of that. He spoke of a God who has numbered every hair on our heads. He used parables about the lilies of the field and fallen sparrows to make clear that God the Father loves us as individuals. The Church’s liturgy is replete with prayers of petition to the Father, often through the intercession of the saints. At Mass, we pray for God to intervene in our lives in the name of peace and justice, for the health of our religious and government leaders. Many of us remember the prayers for the conversion of Russia that followed every Mass back in the 1950s.
It shouldn’t be all that difficult to draw the line in this matter. We can point out to our children that there are priorities even in our prayer life; that prayers of petition should be reserved for matters such as the spiritual and physical health of loved ones, our daily bread, peace, social justice, and an end to abortion; that, no matter how much we “love” our favorite athletic team, we should not expect God to intervene on our behalf to secure a win. Even a young boy or girl will be able to understand these things.
Please do not misread me. I am not saying that athletes are wrong to pray before taking the field. As far as I know, Notre Dame’s football team still kneels in prayer to our Lady before leaving their locker room. There is nothing wrong with baseball players making the sign of the Cross before coming to the plate or pointing toward heaven after getting a crucial hit, or with football players kneeling in prayer after scoring a touchdown. I have no poll numbers to prove my point, but I am confident that most athletes who pray in these ways are not praying for the defeat of their opponent, as much as they are praying that they will use to the best of their ability the physical skills given to them by God, or praying in thanksgiving for God’s gift of those skills. There is nothing immature about that. Not in the least.
James Fitzpatrick's new novel, The Dead Sea Conspiracy: Teilhard de Chardin and the New American Church, is available from our online store. You can email Mr. Fitzpatrick at fitzpatrijames@sbcglobal.net.
(This article originally appeared in The Wanderer and is reprinted with permission. To subscribe call 651-224-5733.)
