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Why the "He Gets Us" ads continue to trigger debates about doctrine

Why the "He Gets Us" ads continue to trigger debates about doctrine

There is nothing unusual about a photograph of two men embracing at a gay Pride march, surrounded by rainbow flags, banners and New Orleans-style beads.

But one of the men in this image from the latest "He Gets Us" Super Bowl advertisement is wearing a John 3:16 hat, as in the Bible verse proclaiming: "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life."

Many of the ad's photographs are easy to interpret, such as a man removing "GO BACK" graffiti from a home, a woman helping a weeping man in a grocery store, a firefighter hard at work and a young football player comforting a defeated opponent.

But the John 3:16 hat raised the theological stakes in the Pride photograph, noted Samuel D. James, an editor active in Christian publishing and founder of the Digital Liturgies website.

"It's obvious one of the goals of 'He Gets Us' is to cut across political and ideological divides," he wrote, at The Gospel Coalition website. "The writers know where the fault lines in American religious culture are – abortion, LGBT+, race, class and so on. And who could resist being moved by these images of human vulnerability and compassion? Who can push out of his or her mind the many moments in the Gospels where Jesus met such needs and taught his followers to do the same?"

The ads seek to create "curiosity about and sympathy for Jesus," he added, with a style targeting an "impressionistic, algorithmic generation." But there's logic behind the debates triggered by these advertisements. Their content is vague, since the "image-based, music-backed ads lack exposition or annotation; such things would only get in the way of the audience's emotional response."

The Pride scene resembles a photograph, in the 2024 Super Bowl ad, of a protester "washing the feet of a young woman outside of an abortion clinic," said James, reached by telephone. There's no way, for example, to know if the patient is entering or leaving the facility.

Sideline sermons are evolving during this tense age in American life

Sideline sermons are evolving during this tense age in American life

Moments after the Philadelphia Eagles won Super Bowl LIX, quarterback Jalen Hurts offered a familiar word of testimony: "God is good. He is greater than all of the highs and lows."

If those words sounded familiar, it's because Hurts – the MVP – shared them earlier on press day, along with several other moments in the spotlight: "My faith has always been a part of me. I've always wanted to root myself in that and keep (God) in the center of my life. … So, through the highs and the lows, He's greater than all of them, and that's something that I can always acknowledge."

Eagles head coach Nick Sirianni opened his post-victory remarks with: "God's blessed us very much. He gave us all the talents to be able to get here, so first and foremost, thanks to Him. … Thank God. Thank you, Jesus."

The coach and his quarterback were not alone, because Godtalk has become more common after championships than pledges to visit a theme park. But the language used during these testimonies has become more nuanced.

"What they said, and didn't say, was quite interesting," said Robert Benne of Roanoke College, who founded its Benne Center for Church and Society. Now 87, he has been writing about faith and sports for decades.

"Not one of them talked about God being on their side," he said, reached by telephone. "They avoided what many would consider evangelistic language, and no one suggested that they prayed to God to help them win. … They were careful not to suggest, in any way, that they had been manipulating the Deity."

This is significant since boastful behavior has become the norm in sports entertainment, Benne recently noted in a Roanoke Times column.

"This is the era of the expressive self," he wrote, under a "Why it's now hard to watch big time football" headline. "Dancing, prancing, running wildly, pounding one's chest with a primal scream. How wonderful, according to the legion of cameras that record every gaping mouth. … The expressive self quickly turns into the aggrandizing self."

Any fusion of proud, pushy behavior and fervent faith would, in "this highly divided country that we have right now," lead to cheers among some viewers and just as many jeers from others, said Benne. Even worse, many commentators immediately interpret statements of public faith as political declarations.

Hard question from Bob Briner: Why are there so few excellent Christian movies?

Hard question from Bob Briner: Why are there so few excellent Christian movies?

Decades later, it's hard to remember how much "Chariots of Fire" shocked the Hollywood establishment, with soaring box-office totals and four wins at the 1982 Oscars – including a Best Picture win for producer David Puttnam.

The film's focus on two legendary runners – one Christian and the other Jewish – also pleased believers who rarely applaud how faith is handled on screen.

That sent the late Bob Briner to London, seeking Puttnam's private office. Briner was an Emmy winner and global sports media trailblazer who worked with tennis legend Arthur Ashe, Dave Dravecky, Michael Jordan and many others.

"Naive soul that I am, I believed that the success of Chariots would trigger a spate of similar films," Briner wrote, in "Roaring Lambs," a 1993 book that was popular with college students and among media professionals. "It seemed to me that the movie moguls would see that a great, uplifting story … backed up by stirring music and produced on a reasonable budget would be a formula for success after success."

That didn't happen. A melancholy Puttnam had stacks of potential scripts.

"He was looking, but not finding," wrote Briner. During his career, Puttnam had "shown an affinity for producing quality, uplifting, affirming, even Christian-oriented movies, but no one was bringing him scripts of quality."

Briner, who died of cancer in 1999, was an articulate evangelical and supporter of Christian education and all kinds of projects in mass media, the fine arts, business and print storytelling. I met him through his efforts to meet journalists who were active in various Christian traditions, while working in mainstream news.

Now, the Briner Institute is publishing a new edition of "Roaring Lambs," while seeking discussions of the many ways the Internet era has changed the media marketplace, creating new ways for religious believers to reach mainstream consumers – but also temptations to settle for niche-media Christian products.

Olympics debates rage on: Why did Dionysus invade The Lord's Supper tableau?

Olympics debates rage on: Why did Dionysus invade The Lord's Supper tableau?

The Catholic bishops of France admired the "marvelous display of beauty and joy" in the 2024 Olympics opening rites, but also slammed the blending of Christian sacred art, Greek mythology and the sexual revolution.

"This ceremony unfortunately included scenes of mockery and derision of Christianity," said the bishops. "We are thinking of all the Christians on every continent who have been hurt by the outrageousness and provocation of certain scenes."

That was soon followed by an appeal to the International Olympic Committee from a global circle of cardinals and bishops protesting "a grotesque and blasphemous depiction of the Last Supper. … It is hard to understand how the faith of over 2 billion people can be so casually and intentionally blasphemed."

But the Vatican remained silent for more than a week, while online combat raged between clergy, entertainers, academics, diplomats and armies of social-media warriors. Finally, the Holy See released a muted statement that it was "saddened" by the "offence done to many Christians and believers of other religions. … In a prestigious event where the whole world comes together around common values, there should be no allusions that ridicule the religious convictions of many people."

These debates raged on and on because few combatants could agree on what took place, in part because the opening ceremonies were quickly removed from the official Olympics YouTube and NBC Universal accounts.

However, photographs showed 16 or more drag and transgender performers, with one child, posed in "vogueing" stances along one side of a table, in front of the Seine River and Eiffel Tower. The edgy drama also included, with brief nudity, couples and threesomes prancing on a stylized fashion runway.

Eventually, a silver food dish opened to reveal, instead of bread and wine, singer Philippe Katerine – painted blue – portraying Dionysus, the Greek god of wine and ecstasy. Pointing to his groin, he sang (translated from French): "Where to hide a revolver when you're completely naked?"

Celtics coach Joe Mazzulla: Battles with ambition and pride, appeals for grace and faith

Celtics coach Joe Mazzulla: Battles with ambition and pride, appeals for grace and faith

It's rare to hear eight seconds of dead silence during an NBA Finals press conference.

Boston Celtics head coach Joe Mazzulla was asked if – because of the "plight" of Black head coaches – it was significant that both teams were led by Black men. Was this a source of "pride" for him?

The son of an Italian father and a Black mother, Mazzulla is an outspoken Catholic whose pre-game routine includes pacing through an empty arena, praying with a rosary made with wood from the court of the original Boston Garden.

Mazzulla's answer was blunt: "I wonder how many of those have been Christian coaches?"

While this response drew many cheers in social media, Los Angeles Lakers legend Kareem Abdul-Jabbar was not amused.

Mazzulla "decided to ignore a legitimate question about race that might have been illuminating and inspiring for others, and instead decided to virtue signal," the six-time NBA Most Valuable Player wrote on Substack. The answer was "strangely aggressive since Christians are not discriminated against but, as a group, are more likely to discriminate against others," Abdul-Jabbar added.

The reporter who asked the pivotal question went further, suggesting that the Celtics coach apparently didn't grasp that it's "possible to be both Black and Christian."

"This didn't feel like a denouncement of Mazzulla's Blackness, so to speak," wrote Vincent Goodwill of Yahoo Sports. "It wasn't quite the 'I'm not Black, I'm OJ' moment; it just leaves room for interpretation."

This wasn't the first time that Mazzulla has puzzled journalists. In 2022, he was asked if he met the "royal family," after Prince William and Princess Kate Middleton attended a game.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph? … I'm only familiar with one royal family," he quipped.

When did prayer become acceptable to NFL? When a crisis happened on live television

When did prayer become acceptable to NFL? When a crisis happened on live television

Super Bowls create media storms, but many journalists and sports executives thought what happened in 1988 was totally out of bounds.

The establishment was shocked when players and coaches from Denver and Washington, D.C., held a prayer meeting on the eve of this NFL rite. The powers that be worried that "fraternization" of this kind could damage this clash between gridiron warriors.

To make matters worse, players from competing teams soon began kneeling in post-game, on-field prayer huddles as a symbol of unity and, often, shared concerns about injured players. Players waved off league efforts to stop the prayer circles.

"For the NFL, this was a corporate thing," said historian Paul Putz, of Baylor University's Faith & Sports Institute. Executives are "fine with prayer, as long as it isn't tied to anything controversial or a specific brand of religion. …

"The NFL didn't mind prayers that were out of sight, maybe in locker rooms with chaplains. But then things started happening on television. That was too much."

That was then. The electric wave of prayer that swept America after Buffalo Bills safety Damar Hamlin's heart-stopping injury was, he said, a "critical mass" moment and a sign of changing times – maybe.

The key was that this drama happened on "Monday Night Football," with anguished players from both teams huddled around Hamlin near midfield, many visibly praying, as first responders fought to save his life.

It was natural for broadcasters to acknowledge the explosion of social-media commentary from athletes, coaches and others – including fervent calls for prayer. All 32 NFL teams soon posted #PrayForDamar appeals.

"We have never seen anything like this before," said Putz. It became clear that it "was OK to tweet messages that went way beyond the usual thoughts and prayers."

The question, added Putz, is what happens next.

Life and death challenges have tested the faith of Phoenix Suns coach Monty Williams

Life and death challenges have tested the faith of Phoenix Suns coach Monty Williams

A reporter tossed a standard question at coach Monty Williams after the Phoenix Suns won the Western Conference finals, asking how he managed to be a tough NBA coach and a sympathetic mentor.

"I tell every new player … that the essence of my coaching is to serve," said Williams, the National Basketball Coaches Association's 2021 coach of the year. "As a believer in Christ, that's what I'm here for. … I tell them all the time, if I get on you, I'm not calling you out – I'm calling you up."

That message meshes well with what superstar Chris Paul writes on his sneakers game after game: "Can't Give Up Now." That's a popular Gospel song with this chorus: "I just can't give up now. I've come too far from where I started from. Nobody told me the road would be easy and I don't believe He's brought me this far to leave me."

Williams and Paul have known each other for a decade, with professional and personal ties strengthened by pain and frustration. While Paul's on-court struggles are well documented, it's impossible to understand their bond without knowing the details of his coach's life as a Christian, husband and father of five children.

"The real reason to watch" the playoffs this year, said former ESPN commentator Jason Whitlock, in his "Fearless" podcast, is "that God has placed a messenger inside the NBA's secular madness. Monty Williams might be the most important man in sports. The 49-year-old former Notre Dame and NBA player is the leader and example that America needs right now."

The coach's story, he added, "belongs in a new Bible. Five years ago, a 52-year-old White woman high on meth drove her car headfirst into the car driven by Williams' wife Ingrid. Three of Williams' children were also in the car. The White woman died at the scene. … Ingrid Williams died a day later. Williams' children survived."

Williams was a promising Notre Dame freshman when Ingrid – before their marriage – stood by him after doctors said he had hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. Long before experts cleared him to play, Ingrid kept praying and offered this message: "Jesus can heal your heart."

Baseball history includes many spiritual parables that are part of the American story

Baseball history includes many spiritual parables that are part of the American story

Fans who crack open baseball history books are sure to find photographs of Jackie Robinson stealing home and wreaking havoc on the base paths.

It's less likely they will learn about him teaching Sunday school classes.

Nevertheless, Brooklyn Dodgers President Branch Rickey saw a connection between those skills.

When they met in 1945 to discuss breaking major-league baseball's color barrier, Rickey quoted Jesus and the Sermon on the Mount while describing the challenges ahead: "You have heard it said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also."

Rickey said: "God is with us in this, Jackie." In the movie "42," that thought turned into this memorable quip: "Robinson's a Methodist. I'm a Methodist. God's a Methodist. You can't go wrong."

This bond changed history. When broadcaster Larry King praised the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., as the "founder of the Civil Rights Movement," King responded: "The founder of the Civil Rights Movement was Jackie Robinson."

On one level, that's a baseball story. But it's also an example of how baseball has played a mythic, strangely spiritual role in American life, said Bryan Steverson, author of "Baseball: A Special Gift from God."

"Look at it this way. The object of baseball is to get home. And you are trying to make it home, safe. Sometimes, someone on my side may even need to make a sacrifice for me to get home, safe. Think about it," he said.

There's nothing new about scribes finding spiritual lessons in athletics, including numerous New Testament examples from St. Paul. But something about baseball's language and imagery encourages a special kind of reverence for many fans, said Steverson, a member of the Society for American Baseball Research. This unique role in the American story is especially obvious whenever baseball is missing – due to a global pandemic or mere labor disputes.

Part of the appeal is the intricate nature of the sport's picky rules and even its structure, starting with what many scribes hail as the perfection of the diamond's 90-foot base paths. Steverson dedicated an entire book chapter to the practical and symbolic roles that the number three – think Christian trinity – plays in baseball.

Volunteer Trey Smith fighting to keep his commitments – in heaven and on Earth

Volunteer Trey Smith fighting to keep his commitments -- in heaven and on Earth

As a teen-ager, Trey Smith kept praying that he would reach 6-foot-5 – the right height for a blue-chip lineman coming out of high school and then a college star who would rise high in the National Football League draft.

His mother Dorsetta – a preacher's daughter – had dreams of her own, including that her son would honor his academic commitments and, after picking a good university, earn his degree. This was something they talked about while young Trey watched his mother wrestle with congestive heart failure and then die at age 51.

All of that was on Smith's mind when he won the Jason Witten Collegiate Man of the Year Award. The NCAA version of the NFL Walter Payton Man of the Year award, it goes to a student leader who has exhibited "exceptional courage, integrity and sportsmanship both on and off the field."

Smith apologized and asked the audience at the Dallas Cowboys practice facility in Frisco, Texas, to give him a moment as he wrestled with his emotions. Then he thanked God, his family, teammates, coaches, academic advisors and the medical specialists who – literally – have helped keep him alive, as well as in the University of Tennessee offensive line.

There was a moment last year, he said, when doctors treating him for blood clots in his lungs told him, "You know man, hang it up, hang it up. You're done playing football. This is it.' …

"Something you dream about as a kid. A promise you made to your mom on her deathbed. Hearing that it's done? You know, it's devastating … I kept thinking … it's not over yet. God put a vision inside of me that night and that whole week, saying, 'I don't care what they say, I've got more glory, I have more honor for you.' God had a bigger purpose for me."

The spotlight on Smith's fight to keep playing has allowed fans everywhere a chance to watch a dramatic case of the mental, physical, emotional and, often, spiritual challenges student athletes face season after season, said Chris Walker, a former Volunteer defensive end who is the UT campus director of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes.