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Finding Faith
Posted: Friday January 21, 2000 11:26 AM
I went to church with Kurt and Brenda Warner last Friday night in St. Louis, a pretty remarkable feat for a Jewish guy who, as a teenager, once got tossed out of Friday night services at his West L.A. synagogue for listening to a Lakers game on a transistor radio. This was my second trip to the Warners' church. The first, back in early October, was for a story on the St. Louis Rams' sudden quarterbacking sensation and eventual league MVP: I took notes, spoke to pastor Jeff Perry and later described the scene for SI readers. But last Friday, I went to the St. Louis Family Church as a private citizen -- because the Warners invited me and, possibly, for reasons I hadn't yet bothered to explore. Worshipping at the Warners' church -- most would put it in the fundamentalist Christian camp -- is not a subtle experience. There's live music; there are video screens; Perry, who says he was a teenage hippie cruising through California before being saved, is a magnetic, upbeat and funny proselytizer. Virtually all of my prior encounters with organized religion have been in Jewish temples or Catholic churches, where expresssion of faith is far more restrained. As I grew into young adulthood, I became extremely cynical about religion. Beyond the various political nightmares to which organized religion has been party, it seemed so far-fetched. I believed that higher forces existed and that good energy is recycled, but that was about the extent of my faith. Now, as a 34-year-old father of two, with a wife who's a practicing Catholic, I've come full circle: I've gone from ruling out everything to ruling out nothing. I believe each person has the right to make sense of his/her spirituality, and that, as the Warners and their fellow churchgoers sing at the start of their Friday night services, "All things are possible." I definitely do my share of informal praying, and I certainly don't claim to know what's real and what's fluff. I guess you'd say I've been humbled. About an hour into last Friday's service, I left to go meet an absent member of the Warners' church -- Issac Bruce, the Rams' star wideout. Bruce doesn't normally attend the Friday night services, but he's a regular at the Perry-led bible study sessions at the Warners' home each Wednesday night during the football season. Whereas Kurt Warner would likely describe himself as a "born-again Christian," Bruce was born into fervent worship. The 13th of 15 children, Bruce says his mother, Kairethiatic, "believes every word in the bible, literally, so I always was deep into the Gospel. When I got to be about 23 I started delving into the bible on my own, studying it the way I would an assignment in college. It helped me overcome some of my fears, like my fear of flying." (Not that Bruce was taking any chances. On his first trip to Hawaii, where he played in the Pro Bowl following the '96 season, he made sure to take his mother. "I did that for two reasons," he says. "First, she deserved it. But also, this is a woman who believes everything the Lord preaches. There's no way that plane was going down with her on it.") I met Bruce and one of his childhood friends, Robert McKenzie, at an Outback Steakhouse in Clayton, Mo. Our first coconut shrimp appetizer hadn't yet arrived when the two of them started grilling me about the way sportswriters shy away from writing about religion. "Y'all are afraid to write the word Jesus ," Bruce said. "I'll be trying to answer from the heart, and I'll see a writer just put down his pen, as if he doesn't believe me." Bruce and McKenzie had several theories why. Some of them carried a hint of persecution-complex. "As a Jewish person," McKenzie asked, "don't you think that the people who control the media -- and so much of the money -- have a vested interest in keeping Christianity out of the articles?" Whoa. Now I was the one feeling persecuted. In an effort to avoid a holy war, I tried to change the parameters of the conversation. "First of all," I said, "you have to understand reporters: If we thought our bosses wanted us not to write something, we'd try 20 times harder to write it. But it's not even an issue of being put off by Christianity. It's more the cliché factor. Your religion may be a key element of what makes you tick, and if I'm writing about you, that's something I want to convey. But if I just hear, 'I have to credit this victory to the Lord,' it's like hearing, 'We have to take it one game at a time.' Both may be true, but there has to be a more interesting way to present the story, or I'm hurting as a journalist." Bruce gave me a quizzical look. "There's just so much skepticism out there. Why do people make fun of Deion [Sanders] now that he has been saved?" "Look," I said, "if I was writing about Deion, I'd give him the benefit of the doubt, because I know him. But he has also told me in the past that the whole 'Primetime' persona was something he created as a marketing device. So, automatically, I have to wonder if what he does and says publicly is for show. The bottom line is, if you have Deion or anyone else saying, 'God gave me incredible focus and clarity, and that helped me perform at a high level,' that's something most people can relate to. But the notion that God cares who wins and loses is tough for people to swallow. Then you have people like Sean Gilbert a couple of years ago saying God was telling him to hold out for $5 million a year, and that hurts everyone's credibility." "Why are you so sure God didn't speak to Sean Gilbert?" Bruce asked. "You're being judgmental. Personally, I don't judge anyone when it comes to their relationship with God." The entrees came, the subject changed and, eventually, I started taking notes. Two days later Bruce caught a 77-yard touchdown on the Rams' first play from scrimmage to spark their playoff victory over the Vikings, and I wrote about him and his Christianity, among other aspects of his life. I've moved on to the next story, but in recent days I've found myself reflecting more than usual on spirituality, higher forces and my mission as a journalist. The way Warner is playing right now, I have a feeling I'll be confronted with a decision of whether to slip "Jesus" into another story on the night of Jan. 30. During my five years at SI, I've tried hard to get inside the lives of the subjects I cover, to bring readers into their worlds. If that meant gambling all night with Dennis Rodman, doing shots with Barry Switzer or taking limo rides with Anna Kournikova, it was all good -- and all in the name of duty. Going to church with the Warners might seem a bit removed from those experiences, but there is some common ground: It felt sincere, and it felt right. Now I'm on a flight to Jacksonville, beginning a 12-day whirlwind, still fuzzy on spiritual specifics. Who knows where I'll end up tonight, or how this will all turn out? I couldn't tell you, but I will say this: The next time I'm in St. Louis on a Friday night, if the Warners invite me, I'll look forward to praying beside them. Sports Illustrated senior writer Michael Silver wields The Silver Sword every Friday on CNNSI.com. To goad him into responding to an e-mail or two, click here. The opinions expressed here are solely those of the writer.
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