LA INTERVENCIÓN REGIA EN LOS ASUNTOS INTERNOS DE LA CASA

As we saw in the previous chapter, one could plausibly argue that every sport is affected by advances in technology. As an example we could look to the sport of golf to see its evolution due in large part to the latest technology which continues to produce better clubs, better golf balls, and so forth. The golf community agreed to alter the sport for the better by allowing their use. Biotechnology, a Rortian would argue, should be afforded the same opportunity. It is a matter of the sport’s progression rather than a moral issue.

An essentialist vantage point would surely be rejected by a Rortian interpretation and welcomed by a MacIntyrean position. William Morgan, however, who has drawn on both thinkers to develop his moral theory of sport, attempts to bridge the gap by offering a mild form of Rortianism. Like Rorty, Morgan rejects an ahistorical representationalism and believes there are ‘no vantage points beyond the existing world that provide a privileged view of sport or of any other social practice.’¹¹¹ Since there is no view from nowhere we necessarily operate from an ethnocentric perspective, a claim

109 Mary Midgley, Heart and Mind: The Varieties of Moral Experience (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1981), 72.

110 Ibid., 73.

111 William Morgan, Leftist Theories of Sport, 183.

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MacIntyre would find little to disagree with. But Morgan is not content with the implications of what he calls vulgar ethnocentrism.¹¹² The vulgar reading is similar to Midgley’s moral isolationism in that it lacks the ability for any moral reflection. Morgan advocates an inter-subjective approach he calls reflective ethnocentrism.

What distinguishes these two variants is that the former [vulgar] appeals to the prima facie, taken-for-granted, precritical conventions of a culture that are internalized as its dominant beliefs, whereas the latter [reflective] appeals to the deep, reflectively secured, critical norms of a culture (such as the present belief in equality and fairness) that form a background repository of beliefs that can be tapped to criticize its dominant beliefs.¹¹³

With this then we have come full circle back to the issue of the relationship between objective and subjective perspectives of sport. A primary facet of Morgan’s alternative to vulgar ethnocentrism is that ‘while the rationality of sport is immanent to its social practice it is not immanent to the social systems and institutional networks in which it is situated.’¹¹⁴ That is, sports are not relativistic trivialities because they are not bound by the social systems in which they are practiced. Nor does he believe their value is universally applicable since there is no transcendent quality or essence. ‘When we prick the rational core of a practice like sport, we find not something natural, pure, inviolate, or necessary – not an essence – but something social, impure, and contingent.’¹¹⁵ Despite the contingency of the activity sport maintains its sense of normativity through what Morgan refers to as the gratuitous logic of sport. That is to say,

The logic of sport binds us to formal criteria of inefficiency with respect to the means we are allowed to use to attain its ends, and normative criteria of virtuous action with respect to the just, honest, and temperate ways we are to conduct ourselves in its practice.¹¹⁶

Morgan seems correct on some level about his inter-subjective, reflective ethnocentrism but goes astray in denying sport an essence. Simon Eassom articulates a similar view but one that offers a slightly stronger emphasis on the objective dimension.

112 Morgan undergoes scrutiny for this distinction from more committed Rortians like Terence Roberts.

For an exchange on different Rortian ethnocentric positions see Terence Roberts, ‘Sporting Practice Protection and Vulgar Ethnocentricity: Why Won’t Morgan Go All the Way?’, Journal of the Philosophy of Sport 25, no. 1 (1998), 71-81; and William Morgan, ‘Ethnocentrism and the Social Criticism of Sports:

A Response to Roberts’, Journal of the Philosophy of Sport 25, no. 1 (1998), 83-102.

113 Morgan, Leftist Theories of Sport, 190.

114 Ibid., 216.

115 Ibid., 216.

116 Ibid., 227.

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He suggests, ‘its distinctive logic enjoys a universal standing that bubbles away beneath the surface of the socially constructed, historically located, and culturally differentiated ways in which sport is manifested throughout the world (and throughout history).’¹¹⁷

Eassom points to a couple of problems with Morgan’s reliance upon a Rortian anti-foundationalist view of sport. First, Morgan denies a natural essence to sport but has not given an historical account of sport’s gratuitous logic. Sport’s contingent status suggests that the gratuitous logic of sport was invented. If sports are cultural universals (i.e. the logic of sporting practices is found in every culture in the world and as such provides a common ground for moral dialogue) as Morgan believes, are other cultures able to keep their logic when adopting our sports? Such a question scarcely makes sense given that without the logic as it is the activity ceases to be the same sport. But the same or similar sports practiced around the world seem to intuitively share the same logic.

Eassom points out a major problem with a Rortian approach to sport. ‘Morgan wants to use the cultural universalism of sport as a bridge between different societies, but wants to do so, like Rorty, without admitting to sport being in any way a product of what “we” are as human beings.’¹¹⁸ But is such a venture possible? My conclusion is that Morgan’s (and by extension Roberts’s and Rorty’s) theory fails to capture the moral significance of sport in part because it denies our human nature.

A better approach is one which embraces an essential human nature and its relationship to human activities. ‘The internal logic reflects a fairly open instinct within us for play that becomes structured by a rationality tied up with our very nature as beings with altruistic tendencies: tendencies that need careful nurturing and development to enable our existence as social animals.’¹¹⁹ Eassom continues, ‘the internal logic of game-playing is as reflective of our humanness as is morality, language, rationality, child-rearing, laughter, love, hatred, or any other of our capacities.’¹²⁰

3.5.3. A Theological Narrative

A view of sport which entirely rejects an intrinsic nature will ultimately yield to a Rortian/Nietzschean framework of radical individualism that utilizes social practices

117 Simon Eassom, ‘Sport, Solidarity, and the Expanding Circle’, Journal of the Philosophy of Sport 24, no. 1 (1997), 92.

118 Ibid., 93.

119 Ibid., 94.

120 Ibid., 94.

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as means to self re-creation. This pursuit of private perfection comes at the expense of both the traditions and internal goods of sporting practices. Additionally, it undermines the commitment to mutual submission within community valued by the Christian tradition. MacIntyre’s theory of social practices, virtues and community enables us to appreciate the significance of our humanness in relation to the intrinsic goods of certain human activities, namely sport. The essence of sport is linked directly to our human nature in that it is ‘a peculiarly human orientation towards the world that is as much a product of our constitution as is language.’¹²¹

Rorty sees sport, not as a moral activity but merely an exercise in private, individual expression. With a MacIntyrean approach we can begin to see sport as a social practice that is connected to a theological tradition. Rorty’s rejection of social constructs having a moral nature or essence means there is nothing intrinsically valuable about sport. Therefore it will not necessarily be corrupted by improper uses of biotechnology. A Rortian approach to sport emphasizes individualism in a system of dialectics.

MacIntyre’s account is similarly sympathetic to moral dialogue between traditions though he does much more to emphasize the primacy of the community and individuals submitting to its internal authority. Community informs our moral understanding of the activity and in this sense is normative for all who seek to be a part of its practices. In a lot of respects the differences between Rorty and MacIntyre on the role of community are subtle but in this instance they are profound. Rorty seeks to place the desires of the individual at the core of community whereas MacIntyre’s focal point is on the virtues required to achieve a practice’s standards of excellence.

In applying the MacIntyrean framework to the issue of biotechnology in sport we can say in the first instance that the authority of the practice governs the rules and values contained therein. However, this does not escape the criticism of question begging explored in the previous chapter. Why does the practice have rules against enhancements in the first place? If this is how MacIntyre’s practices are to be utilized in sport then surely McFee is right that practices are merely descriptive accounts of particular human activities.

Fortunately, much more can be said on behalf of MacIntyrean practices. As we saw earlier in this chapter, MacIntyre provides a normative element in practices through

121 Ibid., 93.

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the role of the moral virtues. The rules against certain behaviour are descriptive in the sense that they relay the values held by the community but there is a very clear and strong underlying normative force for the rules in achieving, through the virtues, the standards of excellence.

Practices also avoid question begging over the rules against enhancements in sport on the basis of the transcendent nature of virtues. Proponents of sports enhancements often use the argument to suggest a biased agenda by the governing powers of the practice. For example, in an Intelligence Squared US debate journalist Radley Balko argued in favour of accepting performance enhancing drugs in competitive sport. ‘I’d suggest it’s about paternalism and it’s about control. We have a full-blown moral panic on our hands here, and it's over a set of substances that, for whatever reason, has attracted the ire of the people who have made it their job to tell us what is and isn't good for us.’¹²²

However, arguments like this one do not speak against the nature of sport as a practice but rather reaffirm it. The paternalism Balko is referring to involves the institutions surrounding sport. As MacIntyre is careful to point out, the virtues of the practice act as safeguards against the corruptive influences of the institutions. So it becomes necessary to distinguish between the authority of the practice and the authority of the institution.

As a result, when MacIntyre states that participants are to be in submission to the authority of the practice he does not necessarily mean the institutional authority but the authority of the practice’s excellence which can only be achieved through the virtues. Ultimately then, submitting to a practice means to be in conformity with the moral virtues, particularly justice, courage and honesty.¹²³ This gets us closer to a Christian account of sport but there is more work to be done. MacIntyre has been criticized for not completing the relationship between virtue and tradition. These critics, most notably John Milbank and Stanley Hauerwas, have praised MacIntyre’s rejection of Enlightenment philosophy but are sceptical of his proposed solution.¹²⁴ MacIntyre advocates a return to an Aristotelian version of the virtues, something Milbank and

122 ‘We Should Accept Performance-Enhancing Drugs in Competitive Sports’,

http://intelligencesquaredus.org/wp-content/uploads/PerformanceEnhancingDrugs-011508.pdf (accessed 1 June, 2011).

123 Of course this begs the question of how different communities understand virtue. See 5.1.4. of this thesis for a discussion on the Christian virtue of courage.

124 John Milbank, Theology and Social Theory: Beyond Secular Reason (Oxford: Blackwell Publishers LTD, 1993) and Stanley Hauerwas and Charles Pinches, Christians Among the Virtues: Theological Conversations with Ancient and Modern Ethics (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1997).

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Hauerwas cannot accept since the Greek virtues are built upon ‘a fundamentally heroic image that has no telos other than conflict.’¹²⁵ Instead, they propose we develop an understanding of virtue from our own tradition of Christianity. Virtue will look different to the Christian than it does to the pagan.

The objective view discussed at the onset of this chapter cannot make such a claim. It’s task is to identify a common account of virtue recognized without the bias of a particular narrative. However, as we have seen in this chapter the objectivity view is a failed attempt to universalize values in a framework void of subjective experience.

Rorty is right to suggest a community based foundation to values but goes too far in two major respects; namely by placing too much emphasis on individualism within one’s own community (i.e. it is more about the self than the tradition one comes from), and by dividing values, particularly moral values, into public and private spheres.

MacIntyre also begins with a community approach but rather than celebrating the individual, he balances the two by both allowing the individual to flourish and submitting the individual to the authority of the tradition. It is this third philosophical framework that most closely identifies with the present task of gaining a theological understanding of sport. Of the three views discussed here MacIntyre best provides a suitable foundation for viewing sport in light of Christian revelation but as we have said Christians must push his theory further by reorienting our understanding of virtue in a way that is consistent with Christian claims.

A Christian theological tradition that is based in the Scriptures submits the individual to the authority of the community that is founded upon one person, Jesus Christ; believing that he is the Son of God and ‘all things were created through him and for him.’¹²⁶ Therefore, every aspect of the lives of His followers rightly falls under His authority. Paul writes concerning Jesus,

He is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.¹²⁷

Becoming a member of this community called Christianity involves recognizing Christ’s glory as superior to one’s own. In accepting this claim, Christians place

125 Hauerwas and Pinches, Christians Among the Virtues, 63.

126 Col. 1:16.

127 Col. 1:18-20.

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themselves firmly in the grasp of a theological narrative that gives complete jurisdiction to Jesus of Nazareth. As a result, the convictions of those operating within a Christian narrative ought to have an understanding of all activities, including sport, which is unique from other communities.

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4. THREE VIEWS OF SPORT ADOPTED BY THE CHURCH: A CRITICAL ASSESSMENT

4.1. Introduction

In the previous chapter it was established that value systems must necessarily include a subjective viewpoint. We are now ready to explore the value placed on sport from within a particular tradition. Not surprisingly, the Christian tradition itself has seen a variety of positions and continues to develop its views on sport. In exploring some of these traditional views we will be in a position to see that the common attitudes toward sport adopted by Christians throughout history have not typically corresponded to the account of social practices defended in the previous chapter. In fact, I will argue that the Church has, perhaps unknowingly, more frequently viewed sport from a Rortian view than from that of MacIntyre.

There is no doubt that a large percentage of Christians feel perfectly at home in the sports world. Over the last century the church has focused much of its energy and resources in the realm of sport. Several Christian ministries have risen up in the last half century, including one of the largest Christian ministries in any context, the Fellowship of Christian Athletes (FCA), which has seen significant growth since its beginning in 1954. Today, the sports-oriented ministry can be found on more college campuses in the United States than the next three campus ministries combined.¹

Local churches are rapidly building sports complexes for their congregations.

Several Christian universities in the United States and elsewhere carry undergraduate degrees and some even offer graduate degrees in sports ministry.² It is not uncommon to hear sermons from pastors that are full of sports analogies or to see worship services cancelled or rescheduled on account of a major sporting event such as the Super Bowl.

There is even a sports devotional Bible filled with daily messages ‘designed to drive home the lessons of Scripture with inspiring stories from all corners of the world of sports.’³

Yet only in the last couple of hundred years have Christians become so openly fixated on sport. Historically the church has had a slightly negligent attitude toward

1 ‘Beginner’s Guide to FCA’ http://www.fca.org/vsItemDisplay.lsp&objectID=B01DC373-3310-4311-BA1999095BA3816E&method=display (accessed 1 June, 2011).

2 Malone University in Canton, Ohio, currently offers a Master’s degree in Christian Leadership in Sports Ministry.

3 David Branon (ed.), Sports Devotional Bible (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing, 2002).

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them. The sparse references to sport in historical Christian literature are often found in the more general topic of leisure or games. While lacking systematic qualities and theological clarity these references provide enough details to trace the progression of ideas in relation to sport and leisure. As we will see, different historical periods and theological influences have offered diverse opinions on the role of sport. Many doctrines of the Christian faith have been interpreted differently throughout history.

Still, one observation that makes sport unique is that for a topic with notably insufficient theological reflection it has been approached with such opposing viewpoints. In other words, for an issue apparently unworthy of the church’s intellectual attention it has produced some very strong and polarizing views.

This sundry history includes the view that sport is sinful on one extreme and the view that sport is the purpose of life on the other extreme.⁴ The objective here is to show that these assorted views offer an interesting and informative starting point for how Christians might inform their present assumptions about sport, its significance for the Christian life, and what values should govern our participation in it.

While a chronological progression of these views may be discernible, I am going to propose my own categorical account which offers a more synthetic way to see how Christians have historically understood sport and leisure. There are three prominent views I wish to address. They are what I will call the insignificant view, the idleness view, and the instrumental view. All three are apparent in different periods of church history and an outline of the major tenets of these views will serve us well in identifying a contextual basis for a theology of sport that is closely aligned with the concept of play developed in a later chapter. In developing these historical elements in this manner I hope to avoid the criticism of Christian sports fans offered by Robert Johnston that

‘rather than ground their discussion in biblical reflection and careful observation of play itself, Christians have most often been content to allow Western culture to shape their understanding of the human at play.’⁵

4.1.1. Sporting Imagery in the Writings of Paul

4 A detailed historical account of the relationship between sport and religion is beyond the scope of this work. See Shirl Hoffman, Good Game: Christianity and the Culture of Sports (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2010); and William J. Baker, Playing with God: Religion and Modern Sport

4 A detailed historical account of the relationship between sport and religion is beyond the scope of this work. See Shirl Hoffman, Good Game: Christianity and the Culture of Sports (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2010); and William J. Baker, Playing with God: Religion and Modern Sport