Are Sport and Spirituality at Odds — Even in Competitive Fitness?

An Unnecessary Divide

I still vividly remember an evening devotion at a church in my youth. It was led by a man of about forty who was a former competitive athlete. He spoke about his spiritual journey towards becoming a Christian. In his experience, competitive sport had somehow stood in the way of his Christian faith, and he had therefore given it up.

At the time, I too was leaving competitive swimming behind and moving more firmly towards a career in theology. Yet the opposition he drew between sport and Christianity stayed with me. Surely being a Christian does not mean becoming a couch potato? I doubt that was what he meant. Perhaps he was trying to describe some kind of change in his values and simply could not quite find the right words.

I do not know what his relationship with sport had been like. Giving it up may well have been the right decision for him personally. But that does not mean competitive sport and Christian faith are inherently incompatible.

In any case, I find these divisions between ordinary, supposedly "secular" things and spirituality problematic. They also sit uneasily with the theology and tradition of my own denomination, the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland. This tradition places considerable value on enjoying earthly things as gifts from God and on the importance of ordinary, everyday life.

I consider it a warning sign of a harmful religious community when it tries to tightly control its members' lives and prohibits good things, such as competitive sport, on religious grounds. Freely choosing to give something up is different from having that restriction imposed on you. Sadly, many people have experienced spiritual abuse, both throughout history and today.

Life in Lutheran Congregations Today

Having spent many years working and participating in Lutheran congregations, I have rarely encountered this kind of negative attitude towards secular life or sport. If anything, my experience has been the opposite. My involvement in competitive fitness as a coach, competitor and judge, for example, has sparked considerable interest and appreciation among parishioners — and specifically among parishioners of all ages.

Over the years, many people have come to ask me for advice or tell me about their own sporting activities, which has been wonderful. I have also been invited to lead themed evenings on bodybuilding at a couple of parishes. My experiences of how congregations respond to sport have therefore been very positive.

If anything, I have encountered more prejudice within the fitness community. People have asked, for example, how a pastor can be involved in a sport like this, or found my combination of professions — pastor and fitness coach — incomprehensible or strange. At the same time, it is certainly an unusual combination, so I am not surprised that it sometimes leaves people puzzled. And curiosity does not necessarily imply disapproval.

Far more often, I have encountered interest within the fitness community too, and perhaps even a little respect for bringing these two worlds together. It has also been lovely to discover that a surprising number of people in the sport share a Christian faith.

Overall, I have found both Tapiola, the parish where I work, and the fitness community to be open-minded and encouraging. I believe this is one of the main reasons why, even after all these years, I still love both my professions and greatly enjoy the people I meet through them.

Physical Activity as a Spiritual Practice

Looking at the subject from a broader perspective, we can see that physical practices have been part of many religious and philosophical traditions. Combining physical activity with deeper reflection is hardly a new invention.

The Peripatetics, an ancient Greek school of philosophy, are traditionally associated with walking while engaging in philosophical discussion. Physical training also plays a central role in the lives of Buddhist Shaolin monks through Shaolin kung fu. Their physical skills are so spectacular that monks have travelled around the world giving performances.

My own religious tradition, Lutheranism, also values our bodily existence. The Bible, the central collection of sacred writings in my church, compares the pursuit of the Christian life to running a race and boxing, for example (1 Corinthians 9:24–27). These are metaphors, of course, but the dedication and training involved in sport clearly provide ways of describing spiritual life too.

Lutheran appreciation for earthly life and our physical nature extends further. In Holy Communion, for example, a spiritual gift is communicated through something as tangible as bread and wine. Spirituality does not mean separating ourselves from everything material and physical.

My Own Experience

For a long time, faith, exploring and reflecting on life's deeper questions, and sport in its various forms have been important parts of my way of life and sources of support. This is true both professionally and personally.

From an early age, sport helped me pursue the path that eventually led to academia and ministry. I feel that competitive swimming improved my ability to concentrate from the age of ten onwards so much that it played a major role in my success at school and in my later studies. In my own life, sport actually helped me become a theologian and a pastor.

Similarly, my spiritual search began in childhood and eventually led me to formally become a Lutheran when I was baptised at fifteen. Later in life, too, Lutheran ways of thinking have been an enormously important source of strength. One aspect that matters to me is the trust that something good can emerge even from adversity, and that difficult experiences may eventually help both ourselves and others.

That does not mean every experience of suffering has to be turned into a victory or explained as something useful. Still faith has given me a great deal of comfort and hope, especially through major losses in life — including times when I could see nothing good in what had happened.

Based on both my life experience and what I have learned, I believe we are multifaceted beings. Our physical nature and our need for mental and spiritual connection come together in a wonderful way. I, at least, would feel that something profound was missing if any of these dimensions had no room in my life. Certainly, my life would not be as rich as it is.

My own experience therefore tells me that spirituality and physical training — including training for aesthetic goals — are not opposites. At their best, and in healthy forms, they are positive, complementary forces in life.