Spirituality, Election and Sports

It would seem that only half the people can be happy half the time.  That pretty much makes joy a 50/50 proposition.

This autumn, two of the stories dominating the news were the Clinton/Trump presidential election, and the Indians/Cubs chase of their long-illusive World Series Championship.  Avid sports and political fans have reported unusual levels of anxiety, if not outright fear.

Don’t get me wrong: in no way am I equating the importance of sports and politics, although I know lots of folks who care a lot more about their teams than their candidates.  Nor am I suggesting that one, including myself, should not care deeply about the issues involved in this election.

I have been taking groups to Mexico and the border for the last 30 years.  I have met and know many amazing people who are undocumented, and I fear greatly for their future, and their families.

I have a child with Type 1: Juvenile diabetes. If she had not been able to stay on her parents insurance until she was 26, and if she had not been able to now buy her own insurance without being financially punished for her pre-existing conditions—well, let’s just say, we care about what happens to the Affordable Care Act.

I grew up in North Dakota among farmers, ranchers and working class folk who became such an important part of this election, and they have plenty of reasons for feeling that they have, indeed, been left out by the policies and priorities of the last political years.

So the issue is not whether or not we should care about these issues and what is going on in our country right now.  Our religious faith, in fact, calls us to care deeply about poverty, prejudice, injustice, oppression, and violence.

The issue I am raising here is not whether or not we should care, but HOW we should care.

According to Christian tradition, our human nature wants to win, take for ourselves without regard for others, and to get our own way in all matters of life (and death).  Christian doctrine often puts forth positions and tries to win.  For one person that position might be to stop abortion, for another capital punishment, and they will often be opposed to each other within the church.  Take our rightly beloved, present Pope.  Because of church doctrine he finds himself uplifting the rights of the refugee, including the undocumented, and at the same time reaffirming the secondary role of women in the church.

Christian theology terms the desire to get our own way, our “original sin.”  The desire to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil was the first attempt to try to take morality into our own hands and redefine what God had already established as the good (and the evil.)  If one sees spirituality in this way, then, we are destined to be happy only half the time--in those times when we get our way.  However, at a deeper level we might wonder if we can ever be happy. One could argue that the spiritual person also does not find joy in seeing others suffer because they have lost and been left out, similar to the poor man lying at the gate of Lazarus.

Spirituality is the attempt to find joy and meaning in life whether one gets one’s way or not.  In fact, the real power of spirituality is in helping us to be at peace with ourselves and the world in those very times when everything is not going the way we want it to.  The year after my first wife died, it was spirituality that saved me.  I had not gotten what I wanted, and now I had to learn anew how to find joy and meaning in life without Pauline. (See Post of 7/31/2015.)

Spirituality is always about assessing where we are, and then moving on, hopefully in the right direction.  It is not good for one’s spirituality to hear the winners lord it over the losers, and to hear the losers rehash again and again their arguments.  Neither of those things are loving things to do, and spirituality always seeks love.

Perhaps one of the greatest challenges of spirituality is to find joy and meaning in those times when we don’t get our own way, while at the same time finding new and creative ways to stand in solidarity with those who are suffering.  Sometimes spirituality calls us underground into the catacombs, where we can be reminded what the Gospel is really all about: not about winning, but about standing under the cross with those who are losing.  Spirituality may need to build a new underground railroad, where we can protect and give sanctuary to those who don’t seem to “matter” right now, not until the day comes when those who have lost finally win, but the day when our hearts have been transformed from hearts of stone to hearts of love where all people are valued. “A new heart I will give you, and a new spirit I will put within you; and I will remove from your body the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. [Ezekiel, 36:26; NRSV]

As always, the Gospel sounds too naïve and idealistic.  As always, spirituality calls us not to give up on the vision of Jesus when it is quite obvious that little else is working

Muhammad Ali, Part V: Race and Religion: His Legacy

It is always somewhat dangerous to try to summarize a person’s legacy.  Because it is a summary, it leaves out many aspects of a person, including some that are likely inconsistent with the overall portrait.  We also tend to idealize those who have died.

And yet, as we face today’s issues and challenges surrounding race and religion, we do well to consider those who have gone before us who have faced similar challenges, and evaluate how they responded.  Christians ask, “How would Jesus have responded?”  Those who believe in active non-violence ask how Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., or Mahatma Gandhi would have responded.  Those who believe in more active confrontation may ask how Malcolm X would have responded.

Before embarking on this final post, a few words of summary of my journey thus far.  It began by reading several books and articles about Muhammad Ali, and visiting his birthplace, museum and place of burial in Louisville, Kentucky in June.

I realized almost immediately that as a youth I totally misunderstood Muhammad Ali, seeing him as a loud-mouthed braggart who did not represent the way I thought sport should be played.  However, I learned that this was his way of gaining a national, and eventually international, platform from which to speak.  In previous blogs I have talked about the way Islam transformed his life, his political stance against war and violence, and the deep spirituality that undergirded, strengthened, and directed his life.  Now, Muhammad Ali’s legacy.

It is hard to overestimate the extent of his influence, in part because he may have been the most recognizable person in the world.  Famed sports reporter Dick Schaap wrote in 2001: “I’ve covered sports for 50 years and there is no question that Ali is far and away the most significant, the most charismatic, the most charming person that I’ve ever met in sports.  Nobody else is even in second place.  If the Queen of England, the President of the United States, the Pope and Muhammad walked down Fifth Avenue, a lot of people would say, ‘Who are those three people with Muhammad Ali?’  He was definitely the most recognizable human being on earth and he probably still is.” [Muhammad Ali: Through the Eyes of the World, 372.]  African-American sports sociologist Harry Edwards speaks to the kind of person Ali was: “I’ve been around great athletes all my life, and I’ve long since gotten over being awed by them . . . . I wind up dealing with their problems.  I see their human side, and it was from that perspective that I really came to appreciate Ali.  I don’t know of anyone who doesn’t like Ali as a person.  Even when he did things that rankled, he carried himself in such a way that forgiveness was easy because there wasn’t a malevolent bone in his body.” [Hauser, 450.]

Ali loved children.  He would often slip away form adults in order to play with children.  He loved doing magic tricks for them.  However, because Islam teaches that you should never deceive, after the trick he would always show the kids how it was done.

Ali was extremely generous, perhaps too much so.  He made a great deal of money over the years, and many people, including many in his large entourage, took advantage of that generosity.  But Ali had a massive heart, and he was moved by anyone he saw suffering.  Stories like the following abound:  He was at a dinner honoring him at the Aladdin Hotel in Vegas.  He was awarded a large diamond ring.  Leaving the stage, he passed a little girl who was sitting in a wheelchair.  The mother asked Ali if he would pose for a picture with her daughter.  He posed, hugged and kissed her, and then put the diamond ring in her hand for her to keep. [Ibid., 368.]

His generosity included not just giving away gifts.  One time in Los Angeles a Vietnam veteran was having flashbacks and was on the 9^th story of a building threatening to jump from his balcony.  Ali walked out to him, put his arms around him, and brought him back.  He then spent $1800 on clothes for the vet and for an apartment in which he could live.” [Ibid. 367-68.]

Ali also cared about other fighters.  Ken Norton was only the second boxer to defeat Ali, breaking his jaw in Ali’s 43^rd fight in 1973.  Ali would win their next two bouts.  In 1986 Norton was in a very bad car accident, which left him hospitalized for several months.  Norton writes: “One thing I do remember is, after I was hurt, Ali was one of the first people to visit me . . . . I remember looking up and there was this crazy man standing by my bed.  It was Ali, and he was doing magic tricks for me.  He made a handkerchief disappear; he levitated.  And I said to myself, if he does one more awful trick, I’m gonna get well just so I can kill him.  But Ali was there, and his being there helped me.” [Ibid., 341.]

Another story about Ali speaks to issues involved today in the Black Lives Matter movement.  Pat Patterson was a Chicago policeman assigned to guard Ali in the mid 1970’s.  He writes: “Being with [Ali] affected the kind of policeman I turned out to be.  I was a relatively young man when I met him.  I was about 29, but I hadn’t been on the force long.  And young police, they’re always interested in locking people up.  But with Ali, I realized it was more important to be a peace officer, that people needed help.  He taught me to take time and listen to people.  Watching him, I learned that power shouldn’t be used in a bullying way.  The man was so caring; he cared so much about people. And after a while, you had to know that the way he felt about people was right.” [Ibid., 288-89.]

Actor Dustin Hoffman summarizes Ali well, “They are right when they say fighting was his profession, peace was his passion and grace is his essence.” [Through the Eyes, 190.]

Because of his concern for people, and his recognition throughout the world, at times Ali served as an informal US ambassador.  In 1980 President Jimmy Carter sent him to Kenya regarding the boycott of the Moscow Olympics.  In 1990 he traveled to Iraq to meet with Saddam Hussein.  After 10 days he was successful in having 15 hostages freed.  One of them was Harry Brill-Edwards, who describes his encounter with Ali: “I suppose what impressed me most about Ali was the way he cared for everyone.  He had a kind word or gesture for absolutely everyone he saw.”  Brill-Edwards then had the chance to fly home on a State Department charter, but Ali was not invited on the charter, and Brill-Edwards decided to wait to go on the same flight with Ali, explaining: “I said to myself, I can’t do this. We should be in Muhammad Ali’s presence when we go home.  In the end, six of us stayed on the flight with Ali.  We did it out of sheer gratitude and respect for the man . . . .I told my family when I got home, ‘I’ve always known that Muhammad Ali was a super sportsman; but during those hours that we were together, inside that enormous body, I saw an angel.’”

The world has certainly not overlooked Ali’s legacy.  He has received countless awards, including the Arthur Ashe Courage Award, Sports Illustrated’s Sportsman of the Century, the Presidential Citizens Medal from President Bill Clinton, the Presidential Medal of Freedom from President George W. Bush, and the Otto Hahn Peace Medal in Gold of the UN Association of Germany (DGVN) in Berlin for his work with the U.S. civil rights movement and the United Nations.

On November 19, 2005 the $60 million non-profit Muhammad Ali Center opened in downtown Louisville. It is a wonderful museum displaying not only boxing memorabilia, but it has as a focus Six Core Principles of Confidence, Conviction, Dedication, Giving, Respect, and Spirituality.  Toward that goal, the Center sponsors educational programs on such themes as Gender Equality and Global Citizenship.  On the day I visited, as the Museum was closing for the day, a large group of young folks were being welcomed in to the museum for a special program on global citizenship.  Throughout the Center 19 languages are represented, and the exhibit named the Hope and Dream Wall includes over 5000 inspiring drawings and paintings created by children from 141 countries.

But perhaps for all of us blessed to have children, the most important legacy may be left in the way they see us and describe our lives. Hana Ali, writes: “In the last years of his life, my father, Muhammad Ali, was as beautiful a man with a mission as he had ever been.  He glided across the ring of life as though he were a Messenger of the Spirit.  No obstacle could bring his majesty down.  His step, though slower in pace, was both a testimony and a prayer that he lived in trust and not fear.  No illness could take away his brightness.  It was ever-present in his gleaming eyes and will carry on through the compassion and generosity that flowed like a stream throughout his life.” [ESPN Magazine, 6/27/16, p. 95.]

Muhammad Ali, Part IV: Racism and Religion: Spirituality and Compassion

Muhammad was reviled and castigated throughout America for his stand against being drafted to fight in Vietnam.  He, like Joe Louis before him, was offered the opportunity to avoid jail by entertaining and inspiring the troops with demonstration boxing matches.  Louis accepted that offer.  Ali would not.  He was opposed to the war and would do nothing to support it.  It was a “principled” stand, based on the non-violence he believed essential to his faith.

It is difficult to this day to understand how a man so hated could eventually become one of the most beloved of Americans, both in this country and around the world.  No doubt one of the heights of that adoration was the torch ceremony at the Olympics held in Atlanta in 1996.

No one knew who would be the final receiver of the torch, the one who would light the official Olympic cauldron for those games.  Not even TV host, Bob Costas, knew.  He was simply told by his producers that the person would be instantly recognizable.

Costas was wrong.  Up to the cauldron ran Janet Evans, renowned American swimmer, who had won four gold medals at the previous two Olympics.  When Muhammad appeared to receive the torch from her, she had no idea who he was.  And then, as he appeared, she heard the growing roar, and then the stands began to shake like she had never heard or felt before, and she knew she was in the presence of someone special, someone revered.

The reason for the change in attitude towards Muhammad cannot be found simply in the fact, as mentioned in my last blog, that our nation was becoming increasingly disenchanted with the Vietnam War and the situation of Civil Rights in this country, especially after the assassinations of Martin Luther King, Jr., and Bobby Kennedy in 1968.  I believe the key to that change in attitude is primarily due to who Muhammad was at his core: a very spiritual man who increasingly became a person of love and compassion in general, and one who increasingly moved away from believing in the separation of races.  [For a summary of Ali's remaining fights, see **at the bottom of this blog.]  

When it comes to race and religion, or any moral, political, or theological issue, an important philosophic concept is that of “the orthodox fallacy.”  In short, it is the conviction that whatever I personally believe is the standard by which the world shall be judged.  This fallacy leads to a self-righteous fundamentalism in which we “don’t want to be confused by the facts.”  The problem is that this view is blind to the relativity of cultural, theological, and philosophic commitments.

What can break it?  Many things, but one of the most common ways is travel.  This happened for Muhammad.  Shortly after winning the heavyweight title the first time, Muhammad went on a trip to Ghana, Nigeria, and Egypt, which would be the start of a lifetime of worldwide travel.  Two important things happened on that trip.

Osman Karriem explains the first: “that trip to Africa . . . . is where I saw Cassius Clay become Muhammad Ali.”  He tells of driving down a rural road in Ghana and out of seemingly nowhere there appeared lining the road people beating drums and yelling out “Ali!  Ali!”  “Do you have any idea what it must have been like for him to see thousands of people materialize out of nowhere and know they were there just for him?”  [in Hauser, Muhammad Ali,112]

This adoration would continue throughout his life.  Biographer Thomas Hauser writes: “Muhammad Ali is the most loved person in the world.  Everywhere he goes, wherever he goes, people of all colors and religions crowd around, hoping to get close to him.  I’ve seen it happen so many times. And each time, I ask myself, ‘If we can all get together and have a meeting of the minds on Ali, why can’t we all get together, period?’”  I look at this man and I say to myself, ‘God is trying to tell us something.’” [Hauser and Ali, Healing: A Journal of Tolerance and Understanding, back cover]

Travel is what led Ali to realize that God might be calling him to a unique role to break down religious and racial barriers and thereby bring people together.  His spiritual journey led him to reject the separatist ideology of Elijah Muhammad and embrace this new way of seeing the world.  In his words, “Hating people because of their color is wrong.  And it doesn't matter which color does the hating.  It's just plain wrong.”

And Muhammad never quit trying to learn.  He said, “I set out on a journey of love, seeking truth, peace and understanding.  I am still learning.”

Another part of this growing spirituality is the way in which Ali’s faith and trust in God continued to deepen over the years, not only now leading him to see the commonality of all humans, each being loved by God, but providing the strength and courage to persevere through his many trials.

As he was facing prison for refusing to be drafted, several other prominent athletes gathered to advise him, including Jim Brown, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, and Boston Celtic great, Bill Russell.  After their meeting, Russell stated: “I envy Muhammad Ali. . . . .He has something I have never been able to obtain and something very few people I know possess.  He has an absolute and sincere faith.  I’m not worried about Muhammad Ali.  He is better equipped than anyone I know to withstand the trials in store for him.  What I’m worried about is the rest of us.” [in Hauser, Muhammad Ali, 179.]

This deep faith led him to feel compassion for all people.  In spite of the violence of the sixties in America, and the assassinations of so many leaders; in spite of the growing terrorism throughout the world in the seventies and eighties, Ali scorned security precautions and insisted on moving freely.  His training camps were open camps. Anyone could stop by and chat, or have a meal.  His homes, much to the consternation of his families, had an open door policy.  Anyone could stop by to say hi or obtain an autograph.  And he insisted on mingling among the crowds wherever he was in the world.  He once stated, “I don’t need no bodyguards or guns.  God is my bodyguard; Allah watches over me.  If I walk into a stadium with a hundred thousand people, no human can keep somebody from putting a bullet in me.  But I can’t be worrying about things like that.  A man filled with fear don’t live and enjoy life.  So I trust in God to look after me.” [Ibid., 287].

Muhammad Ali began each day at 5 am, rising from bed, washing himself with clear running washing, as mandated by the Qur'an, putting on clean clothes, facing Mecca to pray, and then reading the scriptures.  [See ibid. 13]  Each day, every day. 

Thomas Hauser tells of a trip to Indonesia, where at the Grand Mosque in Jakarta, a crowd estimated at 200,000 people waited to greet Muhammad.  They surrounded the car, yelling "Ali!  Ali!"  Ali beseeched the driver, "Go slow; please, don't hurt anyone."  

After 10 days there, they began the flight back home through twelve time zones.  Hauser drifted off to sleep and awoke several hours later. Outside the plane it was pitch black.  The cabin was dark: everyone was asleep, except Muhammad.  His overhead light was on and he was reading the Qur'an.  Hauser writes: "And in that moment, bathed in light, he looked stronger and more at peace with himself than any person I've ever known." [Ibid., 516]

As the years went by Muhammad became more and more interested in Sufism, a dimension of Islam that seeks inner, mystical peace.  And he found that peace.  His daughter, Hana Ali, wrote shortly after Ali’s death:

“If you could have borrowed my eyes and seen my father in the calm of his later life, you would not have mourned what he lost.  When we observe the source of true strength, we find that the power of a hand is best measured not by its weight but by the amount it can lift.  Muhammad Ali’s vitality came from a place deep within.  It came from his courage to fall and his will to rise.  It came from his awareness that every moment under the sun has a purpose and a time.  If you could borrow his heart, you would not question what he sacrificed but rather pray for the peace of his gentle soul.” [ESPN Magazine, 6/27/19, p. 95]

**Summary of Ali's remaining fights.
As stated in the last blog, Muhammad was not allowed to fight in the US or anywhere in the world for nearly 3 ½ years, from March 1967 to October 1970 (from ages 25 to almost 29).  The journey to reclaim the heavyweight title for the third time would be long and difficult.  His first attempt, in the “Fight of the Century” against Joe Frazier at Madison Square Garden, would end in a loss by Unanimous Decision after 15 brutal rounds. (3/8/71).  He would beat Frazier in their rematch 14 fights later (1/28/74), but by then Frazier had lost the crown to George Foreman.  His next fight was against Foreman, in the “Rumble in the Jungle,” (10/30/74) in Zaire, which would finally give Ali his title back with a Knockout in Round 8, having used his new “rope-a-dope” strategy to weather Foreman’s punishing blows.

He would defend that title in his third fight against Frazier, the “Thrilla in Manilla” with a TKO in Round 14 (10/01/75).  It was a brutal fight fought in near 100 degree temperatures.  Afterwards an ailing Ali said: “It was the closest thing to dying that I know” and he declared Frazier “the greatest fighter of all times next to me.”  When asked later if he had ever watched the video of the fight, he exclaimed: “Why would I want to go back and see Hell?”

He would continue to retain that title for six more fights, until he finally lost it to Leon Spinks on 2/15/78.  Yet once again he reclaimed the title in their rematch seven months later.

Most everyone thinks Ali should have retired at that point, if not much sooner.  However, two years later he lost his title to Larry Holmes in a match in which he was pummeled relentlessly (10/02/80).  That was followed by another needless beating a year later at the hands of Trevor Berbick (12/11/81), all of which has led to considerable speculation about the effect these final bouts had on Ali’s long-term health, including the onset of Parkinson’s Disease in 1984.

In the next, and final blog entry, we will discuss Muhammad Ali's legacy.