The Faith of 4,898

As part of the "Church of Baseball" metaphor, it is not unusual to hear that the national pastime has inspired the "faith of fifty million." That's the title of "Inning 3" in Ken Burns' documentary, Baseball, as well as of a collection of academic essays. The recent movement to bring a different kind of church to baseball hasn't quite reached 50 million yet. But it's heading in that direction.

Last night, I made my way to Fort Wayne, Indiana to see the Class A Fort Wayne Wizards play host to the Clinton LumberKings. This was my second attempt to see a relatively new phenomenon called "Faith Night." Faith Night is the creation of Third Coast Sports, Inc., a marketing firm located in Nashville, TN. It takes the conventional logic of baseball promotions--"80s Night" or "Star Wars Night," for example--and adds an evangelical twist. Among the features at last night's game included a pre-game performance by the Christian Rock band Hawk Nelson, an appearance by Christian vegetables VeggieTales (above), and sponsorship by local Christian radio stations and churches.

The fundamental (forgive the pun) question I had walking into the game was whether or not I would experience baseball any differently under the banner of "Faith Night." While they were not an overwhelming presence, the various Christian elements did, indeed, add up to create a unique atmosphere. Most obvious were the many fans who openly advertised their Christian identity. Because Hawk Nelson performed before the game, there were dozens (mostly teens) wearing t-shirts that featured the band. And there were plenty of other slogans, too: "Jesus Freak," "Jesus Patrol," or "Jesus: That's My Final Answer," to name a few. My personal favorite was "Jesus Died for Pedro," an apparent reference to the "Vote for Pedro" t-shirts inspired by Napolean Dynamite.

There was little else to distinguish the evening from any other at the ballpark. VeggieTales Bob and Larry did sing "Take Me Out to the Ball Game." Badly. But no one handed me a Bible. There were no prayers. Beer was still available at the concession stands. So, could it be that "Faith Night" is really no different than "Star Wars Night" after all?

Not exactly. I remain concerned about a couple of things. First, the purpose of "Star Wars Night" is not to save souls for the Force. But the purpose of evangelical Christianity, by definition, is to save souls. As superstar Albert Pujols said of the recent Christian Family day in St. Louis, "We're bringing our Christian testimony to people who need to hear it. What better place for that than a ballpark?" Um . . . a church? Pujols articulates here a core part of the "Faith Night" mission: it is not merely about welcoming people who already identify themselves as Christians; it is as much about finding new souls for conversion. Third Coast Sports is smart enough not to overwhelm its audiences with this message. However, numerous "Faith Nights" around the country have featured testimonials from players which encourage Christian fans to reaffirm their faith or persuade non-Christian fans to discover the path to salvation.

This leads me to the second concern, which is that "Faith Night" is not about celebrating "faith" in the abstract sense. It is about celebrating and promoting a particular type of faith--i.e., fundamentalist Christianity. Historically, fundamentalism hasn't been too friendly to liberal Protestants, Catholics, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, or anyone else who fails to adhere to a strict interpretation of the Bible. If the national pastime can be considered, even just metaphorically, a Church of Baseball, then it can only do so if it provides equal access to everyone. Fundamentalism isn't interested in such inclusion. It constructs a world of "us" and "them," "saved" and "unsaved." In its essence, it is anti-democratic.

The historical promise (often unmet) of baseball is that it is an ideal institution of democracy. "Faith Night," then, threatens the hope of achieving that promise. Last night in Fort Wayne, 4,898 fans went to Church to pledge their faith. While it may not yet be 50 million, but we should be wary nonetheless.