As a football fan, the past few weeks since Fabrice Muamba's shocking collapse in the Tottenham v Bolton game have been a fascinating insight into human nature, our muddled relationship with religion and our communal reaction to unexpectedly tragic events.
Thankfully, tragedy has, at least at point of writing, been averted with Muamba showing positive signs of recovery following a full 78mins without heartbeat subsequent to his cardiac arrest on the White Hart Lane pitch.
Striking as his recovery to this point has been, perhaps even more remarkable is the nature of the public reaction to his collapse. In times of powerlessness it's notable how quickly a supposedly secular society reverts to a quasi-religious mindset.
In the stadium, as medical staff attended to Muamba, pictures of those in the stands showed a commonality, not only of worried faces but of hands clasped together, often in front of mouths, in an instinctive and, presumably in most cases, unconscious stance of prayer.
In the following hours we were all asked to 'pray' for Muamba, BBC's Match of the Day that evening displaying a succession of tweets from fellow players containing similar sentiments.
Come the next match day in the Premier League, players from all teams could be seen displaying t-shirts with slogans of support, many offering a simple 'Get well soon' but many more re-emphasising this call to prayer.
It did make me wonder, were I a professional footballer, would I, as an atheist, agree to wear such a t-shirt, torn between my personal beliefs and a reluctance to appear selfish or willingly contrary? After all, there's no doubting the intentions of a very positive movement of well-wishing.
Some religious spokespeople have adopted these acts as proof the flame of Christianity still burns brightly within our society but even they, I suspect, know this hope is far from an actual reality.
Were those same players and fans asked whether they believed in God, I expect many would still say 'no' and many others would, at least, be a little cagey on the subject.
What this pseudo prayer really proves is that most of us still suffer from a fundamental psychological fault when it comes to tragic events of this nature: when we know not what to do, say or how to explain the events unfolding before us, we still find it easier to put responsibility for the outcome in someone or something else's hands rather than accept a tragic but otherwise uncontrollable event of happenstance has just occurred.
I'm not arguing that people shouldn't pray. For Christians it is a fundamental cornerstone of their faith and for others it is at least a great comfort, and that's perfectly understandable, but it's been surprising how little self-awareness there has been, the tendency to revert to learnt behaviours very much a knee jerk reaction causing levels of communal sympathy to reach quite bizarre heights.
The death of Princess Diana is the common example of a euphoric grief spiralling out of control, people bathing in the comfort of an artificially heightened emotion. Indeed, this does seem to manifest itself more regularly now, in a world of social media, 24hour news and increased exposure to hyperbole.
As a coda to this rather critical treaty on human emotional weakness, I do want to add the caveat that you'd have to have a heart of stone not to have been moved by many of the gestures made following Muamba's collapse, Blackburn fans chanting his name from the stands in their game at the Reebok stadium being a particularly heart warming display.
Finally, whilst the global football community is so often criticised for its behaviour, we should also be grateful for the opportunity to praise this welcome solidarity, even if it should be no less than expected under the circumstances.
Did I just use the word 'praise' in that last sentence? God help me!
Thankfully, tragedy has, at least at point of writing, been averted with Muamba showing positive signs of recovery following a full 78mins without heartbeat subsequent to his cardiac arrest on the White Hart Lane pitch.
Striking as his recovery to this point has been, perhaps even more remarkable is the nature of the public reaction to his collapse. In times of powerlessness it's notable how quickly a supposedly secular society reverts to a quasi-religious mindset.
In the stadium, as medical staff attended to Muamba, pictures of those in the stands showed a commonality, not only of worried faces but of hands clasped together, often in front of mouths, in an instinctive and, presumably in most cases, unconscious stance of prayer.
Come the next match day in the Premier League, players from all teams could be seen displaying t-shirts with slogans of support, many offering a simple 'Get well soon' but many more re-emphasising this call to prayer.
It did make me wonder, were I a professional footballer, would I, as an atheist, agree to wear such a t-shirt, torn between my personal beliefs and a reluctance to appear selfish or willingly contrary? After all, there's no doubting the intentions of a very positive movement of well-wishing.
Some religious spokespeople have adopted these acts as proof the flame of Christianity still burns brightly within our society but even they, I suspect, know this hope is far from an actual reality.
Were those same players and fans asked whether they believed in God, I expect many would still say 'no' and many others would, at least, be a little cagey on the subject.
What this pseudo prayer really proves is that most of us still suffer from a fundamental psychological fault when it comes to tragic events of this nature: when we know not what to do, say or how to explain the events unfolding before us, we still find it easier to put responsibility for the outcome in someone or something else's hands rather than accept a tragic but otherwise uncontrollable event of happenstance has just occurred.
I'm not arguing that people shouldn't pray. For Christians it is a fundamental cornerstone of their faith and for others it is at least a great comfort, and that's perfectly understandable, but it's been surprising how little self-awareness there has been, the tendency to revert to learnt behaviours very much a knee jerk reaction causing levels of communal sympathy to reach quite bizarre heights.
The death of Princess Diana is the common example of a euphoric grief spiralling out of control, people bathing in the comfort of an artificially heightened emotion. Indeed, this does seem to manifest itself more regularly now, in a world of social media, 24hour news and increased exposure to hyperbole.
As a coda to this rather critical treaty on human emotional weakness, I do want to add the caveat that you'd have to have a heart of stone not to have been moved by many of the gestures made following Muamba's collapse, Blackburn fans chanting his name from the stands in their game at the Reebok stadium being a particularly heart warming display.
Finally, whilst the global football community is so often criticised for its behaviour, we should also be grateful for the opportunity to praise this welcome solidarity, even if it should be no less than expected under the circumstances.
Did I just use the word 'praise' in that last sentence? God help me!
No comments:
Post a Comment