I find that sometimes when I watch tennis it can become a spiritual exercise. I have been moved to tears by the astounding quality of a return or by the relentless pace of a long rally. Last night I recorded a tennis match from the Australian Open. It was a semi-final between Daniil Medvedev (Russia) and Stefanos Tsitsipas (Greece).
It wasn’t the closest or even most engaging match, but it did become spiritual exercise. This time, however, it was not primarily to do with the players, but with the crowd.
Indeed there was a crowd in Melbourne.
Cases of COVID have been low in Australia and the Australian Open was allowed to have stadiums at 50% capacity. The tournament is two weeks long and the first number of days, even though the matches were early rounds demonstrated how essential crowds are for these kind of sporting events. After the first week, crowds were barred from attending for five days due to a small number of cases at a nearby hotel. Yesterday that restriction was lifted and crowds returned. Hence the spiritual exercise. As I watched some of the points, even on television from thousands of miles away, the sound and energy of the crowd was palpable. Clearly the players felt it. Something was different as well, a newfound appreciation for the gift of being gathered with thousands of strangers. I found myself thanking God for the gift of strangers.
I was speaking with a friend recently about losses during COVID. We commented on how one of the losses is interaction with strangers. Our lives are blessed by the presence of the other, by people who are not like us, by people who we do not know.
Watching the tennis match I felt a deep sense of gratitude for those people, the ones who I don’t know at all. I am glad that they were there, in the crowd. They made my day better.
Though the Jewish and Christian and Islamic traditions share a positive emphasis on welcoming the stranger, my experience in the evangelical church was a little less than healthy in terms of appreciating the stranger. Sometimes it felt like we were to welcome the stranger because they then might not remain a stranger. At worst the stranger could be spoken of as enemy or threat. Less than the worst, but still bad, was to see the stranger as “the lost”, as if we had something to give them, but they could not have anything to give us.
I am realizing now that there is an aspect to true and hopeful Christian theology that appreciates and loves the stranger who remains stranger. They don’t become one of us. They don’t change their mind in order to think as we do. In fact, I don’t think that the Christian faith can be fully lived without a gratitude for and humble interaction with, the stranger.
It is a failure of theology and imagination to want all strangers to become like us.
Padráig Ó Tuama in his recent book “Borders and Belonging” written with Glenn Jordan shows that the biblical book of Ruth has a lot of helpful things to say about the blessing of strangers and about the cost of seeing the stranger as threat. Ó Tuama presents the welcoming of the stranger in Ruth as a counter-narrative to the fear of strangers seen in the books of Ezra and Nehemiah.
“The story of Ruth is a story of kindness. In fact it is a story of multiple kindnesses that cascade one after the other until they overflow in a change in the whole tradition of a people to extend kindness to a stranger.”
“And it challenges us today about how our laws and practices as peoples deal similar kindness to those who are vulnerable or strangers among us. It challenges us on how we speak kindly and with grace towards those who voted in a different way from us in the referendum (Brexit), or think differently from us on the issue of the border.”
(Pádraig Ó Tuama was recently a guest on our podcast “Rector’s Cupboard”. You can find the episode HERE)
A faith that has been dominated by consumerism and by fear of hell (remnants of twisted medieval views of damnation) cannot truly appreciate the stranger. Consumeristic faith sees the stranger as one who can be exploited. They can become part of what we are doing which will benefit us. Or, they can be saved from the fiery pit (twisted medieval view of damnation) by coming to believe what we believe.
What if there were no strangers remaining?
Would that be ideal?
Having lived through this past year of COVID lockdown, I don’t think it would be ideal at all. We are blessed by the strangers in our lives. We are blessed to be strangers in the lives of others and somehow, in grace, we might even become blessings as strangers ourselves, to others in this world.
It is a tremendous hope to know that a more complete realization of my faith does not require the one who is other to become non-other. The evangelical church (along with other religious traditions) has often operated from a weak, even distorted theology around the blessing of strangers. It is a gift indeed that some who are strangers become friends. It is also a gift that some remain strangers but as strangers help us to know the gift of life in the world, and the love of God for all.
I agree that watching tennis can be a spiritual experience.
The passion and commitment and energy and skill of the great players always astounds me.
I have shed tears for Novak and Andy and Roger through their disappointments and injuries
and cheered their victories through my television screen. I grieved with Maria when she was banished from the court and I have been thrilled to watch Naomi advance to championships.
I honor all the “strangers” who lay the groundwork for these matches...all of them integral to the game...the Tennis Associations, the referees, the ball kids, the volunteers. The fans have their loyalties and that is always fun to watch but it is heartwarming when the skill of the player is recognized. It is a body of strangers who helps give life to the one who steps on the court.
Our lives would not function without the strangers in our lives...the store clerks, the restaurant staff, the municipal employees, the construction workers....the list is infinite.
Mostly they go unrecognized but our lives are better for them.