The Roar
The Roar

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On the game they play in heaven

Samu Kerevi needs to spend some time on the pine. (AAP Image/Dave Hunt)
Expert
31st May, 2017
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6690 Reads

‘For what we are about to receive may the Lord make us truly grateful.’

As someone never persuaded by religion the ease at which the words fell out of my mouth surprised me. It was 2002 team dinner, I was the captain of the South African under 21 team when Springbok legend and team manager, Naas Botha, asked me to “lead the team in prayer”.

Put on the spot, my convictions crumbled as I blurted out some platitudinous nonsense in the hope of escaping embarrassment.

I suppose I could have told one of my childhood heroes that I didn’t share a compulsory devotion to a patently fictional deity, but I must have decided that discretion was indeed the better part of valour. In Naas’ defence there is no way he could have assumed my non-belief. Rugby and religion were deeply singed into the psyche of my teammates, the support staff and coaches. In that environment it was entirely reasonable to assume a devoted religiosity of everyone.

After my team won the Junior World Cup we gathered on bended knee in deference to god, or in my case in deference to the religious sensitivity of my teammates.

I like to think I’ve grown up a lot since then.

While I’ve always had good reason to view religion as a pure example of humanity’s propensity for mass delusion, I no longer feel quite so compelled to bury my opinions for fear of causing offence. In truth I’ve come to understand religion as a set of ideas every bit as deserving of scrutiny and skepticism as any other. However, it’s one thing to know something must be critiqued and another thing to critique it.

Samu Kerevi Queensland Reds Super Rugby Union 2017

(AAP Image/Dave Hunt)

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The problem seems to be that there is so little room for nuance in our discourse. Take the furore surrounding Margaret Court this week. While it’s obvious that Court’s views are antithetical to human flourishing they are entirely supported by the religious book she holds dear. The same book that inspires post-match prayer huddles.

These communal expressions of solidarity are widely celebrated as unambiguous symbols of virtue. While it is true that prayer huddles do in fact capture a camaraderie and sense of connection that is meaningful to those involved, they also represent a deep commitment to unreason. This is as much a problem in sport as it is anywhere else, for there is no doubt that what people believe and how these beliefs translate into behaviour really does matter.

I’ve also observed a racism of low expectations when discussing the role of religion in the South Pacific Islander communities involved in rugby. The line taken by many is that religion provides a sense of meaning and purpose that would be lost if these communities were encouraged to think more critically about faith.

One can read this as suggesting that some people aren’t intellectually developed enough to forgo the crutch of religion.

While there is no doubt that losing religion can be an acutely destabilising experience, the idea that meaning is dependent on self-delusion is both ridiculous and dangerous. I know of nothing more humbling and awe-inspiring than contemplating the mysteries of the natural world. A little doubt goes a long way and a lot of doubt goes further still.

We can’t forget that wellbeing depends on good ideas winning out over bad ideas. Everything we know about dogma, credulity and superstitious thinking suggests they are poor tools by which to navigate our way towards a greater good.

It’s worth keeping this in mind when we see players promoting their faith by pointing skyward after every try, or inscribing their taped wrists with religious symbols. However well intentioned they may be, these athletes are doing nothing to roll back the negative influence religion has in this world.

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And while it’s obvious that they must always be free to express their religiosity in these ways, so too must we be free to point out that any good which stems from religion does not depend on accepting nonsense. Which is to say that there is no moral good exclusive to religion, or which cannot be achieved by an atheist.

Finally, if there is a god, one does have to wonder why he appears to have damned the Australian Super Rugby Conference of 2017.

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