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Sports, banquets, parties, fine clothes, and stage comedies are all things that, considered in themselves, are by no means evil. They are indifferent acts and therefore they can be neither good or bad. At the same time such things are always dangerous and to have an affection for them is still more dangerous. Hence, Philothea, I hold that although it is licit to engage in sports, dance, wear fine clothes, attend harmless comedies, and enjoy banquets, to have a strong liking for such things is not only opposed to devotion but also extremely harmful and dangerous. It is not evil to do such things, but it is evil to be attached to them. It is a pity to sow such vain and foolish affections in our heart’s soil. They usurp the place of worthwhile interests and hinder the sap of our soul from being used for good inclinations.
– St. Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout LifeNihil vero tam damnosum bonis moribus quam in aliquo spectaculo desidere; tunc enim per voluptatem facilius vitia subrepunt.
– Seneca, Epistulae Morales, 7
Franciscus and I were watching Michigan State vs. Ohio State last night. While I was immersed in the flow of the game, he was so kind as to humor my avid affection for Michigan State basketball. What for him was an idle delight – if that! (though there was beer involved) – was for me something that brings to mind the above piece of advice in St. Francis de Sales’ Introduction to the Devout Life.
Many of us can sympathize with these feelings: the exhilaration of delight when our team wins a close one and the gut-wrenching frustration when the boys go down by a few points.
Are these misplaced affections? I’m inclined to think so, to think that we are wasting energy (more spiritual than physical, perhaps) or time on what is truly one of the passing trifles of this world.
I don’t mention, of course, the near occasions of sin which pursuing such affections – otherwise (perhaps) matters of indifference morally speaking – might put us in. Ambrosius and Iacobus know how I almost fell in with a dancing girl on account of spending too much time at Joe’s Sports Bar last year. There are the dangers of overconsumption, not limited to bars nor to a passion for sports. To a large extent, I suppose, these dangers can be obviated by watching from the safety of home, alcohol free, feeding only off of one’s passion for the sport and the love for one’s team.
Even in such a sterile environment, though, I think that I can see the danger of which St. Francis de Sales speaks. Whether Tarcisio Cardinal Bertone can be taken as any guide in the matter, I know not. It’s not something that I plan on giving up anytime soon, but it is a matter I wonder about from time to time.
St. Louis-Marie de Montfort,
Pope St. Pius X,
St. Joseph,
St. Ambrose of Milan,
St. Thomas Aquinas,
St. Francis (and St. Clare),
St. Catherine of Siena,
St. Alphonsus Ligouri,
St. John Chrysostom,
If you watch old clips of Vince Lombardi on ESPN, he often has his hands in his coat pockets. You might think that that is due to the “frozen tundra” that is Lammmbbbeeeaaauuuu Field (that’s what a written Chris Berman impersonation looks like). Turns out that Lombardi was continuously saying his Rosary, beads-in-pocket, interspersed with such solidly Catholic moral advice as “Winning isn’t everything . . . it’s the ONLY thing.” Which goes to show that the Blessed Virgin really isn’t above to answering prayers for sports teams . . .
I don’t doubt that addiction to sports can be harmful, but it’s always quite difficult to measure its effect on any particular soul. As the members of this Society can attest, the fortunes of my team can certainly affect my emotional state, on occasion quite profoundly, and I do sometimes wonder whether this might be spiritually unhealthy. It’s one thing to casually enjoy a game with my friends or my fiance (and I’ve often done this too.) But if you spend the hours leading up to a big game with your stomach twisted into knots of nervousness, and the hours after either in delight or in depression, does this mean your attachment is excessive?
Very possibly. But let’s draw an analogy that may or may not be helpful. Suppose you have a similar reaction… to reading a book, or possibly watching a movie. You are so tied into the plot that you really experience the emotional states of the characters and feel profound reactions to the events that take place. Is this also a sign of excessive involvement?
Well, it may or may not be. I’m inclined to say that it depends on the type of book, and on, not only the intensity of your reactions, but on the way in which they are fit into your life and your understanding of things. Becoming addicted to the passion of a trashy romance or the thrill a horror film is almost certainly unhealthy. With, say, a Tolstoy novel, I’m inclined to think that it can be channelled in healthier ways. We can “learn” from the events of the book in a way not altogether unlike learning from events that actually happen to us.
Sports is somewhere in between. A quick glance at a public sports chat room will show that it can bring out many of the pettiest and ugliest of human emotions, in a raw and unfiltered form. But sports can prove a metaphor for life in lots of ways, and some are good. Together with the thrilling victories you get the crushing defeats, and both can be instructive put in the proper context.
Probably not making much sense here. I spent the day experiencing the joys of the Magic Kingdom and my brains may be a bit addled.
“I’m inclined to say that it depends on the type of book, and on, not only the intensity of your reactions, but on the way in which they are fit into your life and your understanding of things.”
And what category shall we put “The Office” (U.S. version) in? Can they get extra credit for being located in Scranton? Is it excessive to pray for characters and the plot to develop in certain ways and not others? ;)
Actually, there was an interesting talk in the classics department two weeks ago about the reasons why Sts. Augustine and John Chrysostom condemned the theater. Part of it was that characters in the plays absorbed people’s pity (of Aristotle’s famous “pity and fear” paradigm for the spectators’ ideal responses to tragedy). But the audience members derived pleasure from this compassion without being able to help these fictional people in any way. So they got some “release” for a natural and, for Christians, supernatural desire without actually doing any work. Sound familiar? Sort of like pornography — sexual gratification without actual matrimony and love. So instead of pleasing themselves in this emotionally onanistic manner, exhausting their supplies of pity on fleeting masks, Christian disciples should be going out and helping the poor, the hungry, the naked, the sick, the imprisoned, etc. Get out of the theaters and into the slums — help a brother out.
That’s what they said, anyway. The argument has its points, but it wouldn’t seem to allow for Passion and Mystery Plays. (Or would the two Church Fathers in question have said that Christ is real, unlike Oedipus and Antigone, and so pity for Christ naturally bears fruit?) But I can’t pursue that line of reasoning very far, or I’ll have to throw out my Homer, Vergil, and Horace. Among the billion other reasons it’s good that Dante wrote “The Divine Comedy” and not I: I never would have left the Limbo of the pagan poets.
I’m a weekly watcher of “24″ – I think there are some good moral lessons presented each week!
Seriously, I’ve often thought while watching 24, what has the Church taught, throughout the years, about doing an evil act for one’s country?
Over here in Turkey, I’ve found myself having to lie quite a bit. If I’m in a small shop buying some groceries and they are flying a Palestinian flag and all look like Osama Bin Laden inside, I’ll be asked where I’m from and why I’m in Turkey – I usually say I’m a teacher and then if pressed for more information start weaving a tale. Is this a sin?
What about spying?
Murder?
Blackmail?
Sending in a female agent to sleep with the enemy leader and kill him in his sleep.
All these things happened throughout the Middle Ages and even in Biblical times the Israelites used these tactics against their enemies.
Josephus,
How many beers did you drink? I’ve found that the beer-drinking aspect can quickly get out-of-hand. Not necessarily complete drunkeness but certainly a strong buzz which is not a good example for Catholics to set. And you don’t have to be at a bar for it to happen.
Tobias Petrus — would you please tell me where Sts. Augustine and John Chrysostom condemned the theater? My family and I have been discussing whether our son should be involved in theater at his high school. He has dropped any such activity due to the questionable morals of the players and due to the consistent actions by the dramsa teachers at the Catholic identity (not much left, truth be known) of the high school (e.g. casting the one gay student as a priest in the spring play). I know he would like to know what two such illustrous saints have to say on the matter.
Anonymous,
St. John Chrysostom: “Contra ludos et theatra” (“Against games and the theatrical productions”). For what it’s worth, in the Migne collection it is PG 56, 263-270).
St. Augustine: Confessions 3, the beginning.
My guess is that finding an English translation of Augustine will be the easier task. Also, if you plan to comment later (please do, btw), please choose at least a pseudonym. It gets confusing to refer to anonymouses, especially when there are more than one. Thanks.
I think personally discussions on this blog should on occasion instill a certain vexation or you aren’t normal. Of course it helps before hand not to get worked up and to use your energy in topics that are worth butting heads with. But it totally stinks being flat out wrong. Oh well, thankfully I haven’t done that much. haha.
Not sure if this is likened to a game as Clara notes, but it is.
PS–I never read the post of Iosephus but here’s a tip from a commercial: “Buzzed driving *is* drunk driving.”
I was thinking, too, that the whole point in dialogue and butting heads should be ultimately to learn about the faith or to find better reasons one believes this or that; not merely to get a thrill out of proving someone wrong…although that’s cool.
Clara, I was also inclined to think along the lines of our enjoyment of things like literature. There, of course, one wants to draw a distinction between the good stuff and trashy novels, say. Is better to spend all one’s free time with Introduction to the Devout Life as opposed to spending some time with Tolstoy as well as de Sales (for example)? I think that the latter is better and that, as you say, there is much we can learn from good literature.
In the world of sports, however, I see the goods as coming via participation in sport; by competing well and determinedly, by being a good sportsman, fair, etc., I do think that we can learn important lessons. (Not that these lessons can’t be learned in other ways, but they can be learned from time to time in sport, too.)
But the mere spectator is feeding off the sweat of someone else. What if it’s boxing and one likes it all just because of the blood? Then we’d be on the verge of the Coliseum and the bloody spectacles which many Catholic authors condemned as crude and inhuman, not least of all in the way people drank them in.
On the other hand, we might suppose that some of the lessons which are learned primarily by participation in sport can also be learned by those who admire and follow the athletes or teams. Not that these men would be the ideal role-models as compared to the saints, but there are certain qualities we admire in athletes and sports teams which are generally worth cultivating.
I guess that in the end, I’m more inclined to endorse the actual participation in sports, as being the way in which sport is most able to improve (not that it necessarily does) the human person, and less so the watching of them, which often becomes a full time hobby. Bear in mind, of course, that I say this as a man with green and white blood in his veins – I’m just considering the matter from a distance for the time being.
Tobias petrus — I found an English translation of the St. John Chrysostom homily “Against the Games and Theatres” in a book on the online resource “ebrary.” It is titled “John Chrysostom” and is by Wendy Mayer and Pauline Allen. The homily may be found at page 118.
For those who may not own a copy of the “Confessions” of St. Augustine, there is a copy of that work available on “ebrary” as well. Most universities subscribe to “ebrary.”
Anonymous theophile