The gospel according to Ted Lasso
Romans 14: 1-12
New Ark United Church of Christ, Newark, DE
September 17, 2023
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| Screenshot of the torn up, reassembled "Believe" sign from the TV series Ted Lasso. Yellow paper with blue capital letters. |
Ever since I can remember I have been drawn to hopeful stories that require believing in some fashion. Bible stories like Moses in the bulrushes and Jesus healing just about everybody caught my attention at an early age. Star Trek is about believing that humanity has a hopeful future, despite or maybe even because of our weaknesses. The movie Field of Dreams is about listening to and believing in that inner voice that calls us to healing and forgiveness. You probably have your own list of go-to stories when you need some uplifting.
And then there’s the popular television show Ted Lasso, from whence this torn up and reassembled poster hails from. If you’ve never seen it, one, you must. And two, I’m sorry, I’m about to ruin some of it for you, but the message is just too good to pass up.
Ted Lasso is an American college football coach hired to coach a British professional football team, aka soccer, of which he knows nothing about. One of the first things Ted does after he arrives is to make this “Believe” sign and hang it up in the locker room over the doorway to his office. The sign becomes not only a source of motivation for the team but a talisman to be touched before going out on the field, a good luck charm, a symbol of the team’s cohesion, hope, self-work, and success.
After a conflict with one of the coaching staff, Ted finds the sign on his desk torn in half. He restores it to its rightful place without telling the team. After a difficult game, Ted gives some words of encouragement, telling them they just need to believe, and half of the sign falls away from the wall, causing the team to gasp in shock and horror, one player crying out, “It’s a sign!” Ted then takes down both halves of the sign and says, “The fact is, it is just a sign” and tears it in half again, twice. The team erupts again. Ted reminds the team that believing doesn’t come from hanging a sign on a wall. It comes from within, our heart, our mind, our gut. But we all have so much stuff inside us like envy, shame, and fear that we get in our own way. Ted is tired of living that way and the team agrees they are too. Ted says that he would rather mess around with the belief that he matters, regardless of what he’s able to accomplish or not. Or the belief that we all deserve to be loved, whether we’ve been hurt or we’ve hurt somebody else. Or the belief of hope: believing that things can get better, that we all can get better. He says, “Believing in yourself and believing in each other, that’s fundamental to being alive. And when we do that, no one can rip that apart.” He then leaves the torn-up sign on a low platform in the middle of the locker room.
Now it’s the last game of the season and the team needs to come from behind. Ted says to the team that we don’t know what’s going to happen, none of us ever really knows. We don’t want to know the future; we want to be here right now. But if we just believe and he points to where the sign used to hang. If we do what we do, the peace of mind that comes from knowing we tried and did our best, that’s enough. Unbeknownst to Ted, each player had taken a piece of that torn-up sign, still a talisman but now something deeper, more intrinsic. One player brings out his small piece of the sign and lays it down, then another, and another until they have all the pieces. Then they reassemble it like a jigsaw puzzle, like distinct individual players each with their own flaws and strengths but something altogether different when they embrace one another. When they trust one another.
I think this is what Paul is getting at in his letter to the church in Rome. He’s not talking so much about a crisis in faith but more like a crisis in trust. And he uses the language these Romans are using against those who are new to following Jesus as a way of showing them they have some work to do. In an empire, the word weak is used to shame and demean, and strength is something to admire and attain, just as it is now.
In effect, Paul is saying if these Romans are so strong in following Jesus, wouldn’t they have enough strength to embrace those who are new to this way of life? Do they believe in themselves, do they believe in each other? Does not Christ live in them and in their life together? Do they trust themselves, flaws and all? Do they trust each other, flaws and all? These Romans would rather just quarrel about their differences and pass judgment than allow themselves to be changed, to become something new.
Which is the spiritual crisis we—the Church, this country—find ourselves in now, a crisis in trust rather than the crisis in faith that Christian nationalists are convinced of. The words “belief” and “believe” used to imply a sense of trust rather than an assent to a particular set of convictions. In an empire, to be strong in faith is more about certainty and adhering to rules, hierarchy, who’s in and who’s out. But in the kin-dom of God, to be strong in faith means believing that everyone matters, regardless of who they are, but especially those empire calls weak. To be strong in faith means that we all deserve to be loved, whether we’ve been hurt or we’ve hurt somebody else. To be strong in faith means the belief of hope: believing that things can get better, that we all can get better.
Paul was right. None of us live to ourselves nor do we die to ourselves. Ted was right. Believing in yourself and believing in each other is fundamental to being alive. It’s also fundamental to life lived in community. In the last twenty years or so we have had one painful, hopeful opportunity after another to build trust, solidarity, and community—September 11th, Black Lives Matter, marriage equality, the #MeToo movement, the peaceful transfer of power, the pandemic, the multitude of labor strikes, the climate crisis. In all of these we have betrayed and deserted one another, still messing with the envy, shame, and fear that we all carry inside us. We’ve convinced ourselves and each other that, depending on who you are, we can tear up that unbreakable, unshakeable covenant of being human together.
But no one can take that away from you or from us. Each of us has tucked away inside us that small slip of paper with the truth about ourselves on it. Forty-four years ago, three groups of people came together each, with their truth and their different expressions of believing, and trusted each other to become Church together. That Church trusted the United Church of Christ to be their covenanted partner in ministry. Over the years you have not only welcomed but embraced other travelers, people new to this Church but experienced in their own life and their own way of making sense of the world. It hasn’t been an easy road nor has it been free of struggle and conflict. After all, we really don’t know what we’re getting into when we join our fate to someone else, to community. We don’t know what’s going to happen, none of us ever really knows. As much as we want to know the future, what we need is to be here, right now. To be here, and work on our envy, our shame, and our fear. To be here, to trust God—what is good, holy, and true—trust ourselves, trust each other, believe in ourselves and believe in each other. Believe when someone tells us who they are. To be here, in this community and how we make a difference in the lives of others.
If we do what we do, the peace of mind that comes from knowing each day we try and we do our best, that’s enough. Leave the rest to God and to tomorrow. We’ll pick it back up again. One day at a time. Amen.
In effect, Paul is saying if these Romans are so strong in following Jesus, wouldn’t they have enough strength to embrace those who are new to this way of life? Do they believe in themselves, do they believe in each other? Does not Christ live in them and in their life together? Do they trust themselves, flaws and all? Do they trust each other, flaws and all? These Romans would rather just quarrel about their differences and pass judgment than allow themselves to be changed, to become something new.
Which is the spiritual crisis we—the Church, this country—find ourselves in now, a crisis in trust rather than the crisis in faith that Christian nationalists are convinced of. The words “belief” and “believe” used to imply a sense of trust rather than an assent to a particular set of convictions. In an empire, to be strong in faith is more about certainty and adhering to rules, hierarchy, who’s in and who’s out. But in the kin-dom of God, to be strong in faith means believing that everyone matters, regardless of who they are, but especially those empire calls weak. To be strong in faith means that we all deserve to be loved, whether we’ve been hurt or we’ve hurt somebody else. To be strong in faith means the belief of hope: believing that things can get better, that we all can get better.
Paul was right. None of us live to ourselves nor do we die to ourselves. Ted was right. Believing in yourself and believing in each other is fundamental to being alive. It’s also fundamental to life lived in community. In the last twenty years or so we have had one painful, hopeful opportunity after another to build trust, solidarity, and community—September 11th, Black Lives Matter, marriage equality, the #MeToo movement, the peaceful transfer of power, the pandemic, the multitude of labor strikes, the climate crisis. In all of these we have betrayed and deserted one another, still messing with the envy, shame, and fear that we all carry inside us. We’ve convinced ourselves and each other that, depending on who you are, we can tear up that unbreakable, unshakeable covenant of being human together.
But no one can take that away from you or from us. Each of us has tucked away inside us that small slip of paper with the truth about ourselves on it. Forty-four years ago, three groups of people came together each, with their truth and their different expressions of believing, and trusted each other to become Church together. That Church trusted the United Church of Christ to be their covenanted partner in ministry. Over the years you have not only welcomed but embraced other travelers, people new to this Church but experienced in their own life and their own way of making sense of the world. It hasn’t been an easy road nor has it been free of struggle and conflict. After all, we really don’t know what we’re getting into when we join our fate to someone else, to community. We don’t know what’s going to happen, none of us ever really knows. As much as we want to know the future, what we need is to be here, right now. To be here, and work on our envy, our shame, and our fear. To be here, to trust God—what is good, holy, and true—trust ourselves, trust each other, believe in ourselves and believe in each other. Believe when someone tells us who they are. To be here, in this community and how we make a difference in the lives of others.
If we do what we do, the peace of mind that comes from knowing each day we try and we do our best, that’s enough. Leave the rest to God and to tomorrow. We’ll pick it back up again. One day at a time. Amen.
Benediction – enfleshed.com
May we go and co-create new spaces of radical hospitality, transforming and being transformed in community.
May God expand our comprehension of Love, of connection, of all the joy and struggle we share.
May we leave with hearts renewed by the grace of a divine belonging that holds all life, eternal and trustworthy.
Believe it, my friends. Amen.
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