The team you cheer for just won at the buzzer. The athlete who hit the shot steps to the podium to talk with the media and the familiar script plays out:

“Can you walk us through that last shot?”

“It was a great game. Great team we played. My teammates did a great job of finding me. Obviously, I’m happy it went in. But getting the win is what it’s all about.”

“You seem to have some issues with the refs earlier in the game, can you share what upset you?”

“Like I said, I’m just happy to get the win. It seems like things are clicking for us as a unit right now.”

“Coach said before the game he was going to limit your minutes tonight because of some off court issues. Can you expand on what happened last week?”

“You know, I just want to focus on today. We got the win. It feels good. Tomorrow’s another chance for us to build on this.”

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

If you’re anything like me, this stuff drives you crazy. I want context. I want the backstory. I want to hear, straight from the athlete’s mouth, what happened and why it happened. At a minimum, I want something beyond the boring non answers that’s become so pervasive within the athletic community. 

Despite my frustration and annoyance with how meaningless many interviews have become, I think there’s something I—and we, as Christians, can learn from this strategy. 

Why do athletes do this?

Athletes are not stupid. They’re actually listening to the advice of those who hold positions of authority over them. Athletes are taught at the collegiate and professional level the art of interviewing in a way that causes the least amount of drama and side stories. Yes, it is a purposeful strategy. They’ve mastered the skill of being exciting during competition—and boring after it’s over. 

Why do they do it? Because the ultimate goal is winning and anything that distracts from that end is unnecessary friction. 

Think through some of the dysfunctional teams you have watched over the years. What’s the genesis of the dysfunction? What’s continually feeding it? Most likely, it’s a few people who have voiced their opinions about secondary issues. The media picks up on this and makes them primary issues (because that’s often how the media operates). 

The best teams still have areas of dysfunction. But the discipline of keeping issues “in house” prevents public discord that could prevent them from their main goal: winning. The end goal drives the discipline. Even if it’s unnatural to bite their tongue in the moment, the goal of holding a trophy is greater than the goal of being fully understood by a group of people outside of the team. 

The irony is that this strategy, I think, allows for greater impact in areas that don’t contribute to winning on the field. When athletes consistently practice the discipline of giving boring interviews, on secondary issues, it gives their words even greater weight when they decide it’s finally necessary to use their platform to speak out on something that truly matters. 

What can we learn from this?

Listening to athletes give boring answers (and mentally working through why they do this) causes me to think about how this applies to my life as a Christian. As someone who speaks, writes, and comments on things happening at the intersection of faith and sport, what drives my desire to speak out and the tone I use in doing so? What about you? If someone were to scroll across your social media feed over the last year, what would they say is of primary importance to you based on what you post and comment on? 

Sports?

Food?

Netflix?

Politics?

What if we followed the lead of athletes who give boring interviews? What if, out of dedication to the rest of the body of Christ (our brothers and sisters, our teammates in the Gospel), we became a little more boring about secondary issues in an effort to collectively pursue the Great Commission? 

What if, before posting our opinion about something and the tone we use in giving that opinion, we asked three questions:

1. Does this show love for God?

2. Does this show love for others?

3. Does this help make disciples?

I’m going to free myself of the responsibility to tell you what is primary, secondary, or even, tertiary. That’s for each of you to discern as you read the Bible, listen to the Spirit, and the teaching of the local Church you attend. I will, however, share a starting point that was shared with me when I joined Athletes in Action in 2009. This grid has proved helpful for me in deciphering the levels of importance on the various issues in my life and the world around me. It’s a framework of theological thinking that has three categories to consider: conviction, persuasion, and opinion. 

Much of what follows is copy and pasted from an article Scott Croker wrote from Cru in 2017. 

1. Convictions: These are foundational beliefs of the Christian faith that are central to the Gospel. They are, as Paul puts it in 1 Corinthians 15:3-5 when talking about the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus, “of first importance.” This conviction level category also includes: the authority of the Bible, the doctrine of the Trinity, and the full deity and humanity of Christ. Issues that fall in the conviction category should be of primary importance to us. 

2. Persuasions: Persuasions are beliefs that we are personally certain (like knowing the Lions will win a Super Bowl in the next 5 years), but can still fellowship with other Christians who disagree since they are not matters central to the gospel. Issues that fall under this category include: church government, modes of baptism (sprinkling vs. immersion) and the nature of God’s providence. Many denominational distinctives fit into this second category.

3. Opinions: These are beliefs, desires, or even wishes which may not be clearly taught in Scripture over which believers may legitimately differ. Since sports are rarely referenced in the Bible, I find much of my writing needs to be held at the opinion level. This category assumes that there may be—and often is—more than one correct “Christian” view on an issue. An example of an opinion level doctrine could be the order or style of Christian worship.

Where do we go from here?

I’ve gone back and forth on how I want to end this. Part of me wants to disclaimer this to death. The other part of me wants to leave it open and allow for persuasive/opinion level pushback. I think that the route I want to go. Be intentionally boring about some things so you can intentionally pursue what really matter.

If athletes can use wisdom in biting their tongue, for the sake of the team and a trophy, maybe us Christians need to use more wisdom in biting our tongues too—for the sake of the body of Christ, and the Great Commission.