Matchday!

Today I am taking my wonderful wife to worship at the temple of Anfield!  She's never been to a premier league football match before (she doesn't like football) but some occasions transcend the sport and this is one of them.  Sometimes you just need to experience the atmosphere to enjoy something that usually doesn't float your boat.  There is something electric about the atmosphere at Liverpool Football Club, something that makes the hairs on your neck stand up as you listen to fifty thousand people singing 'You'll Never Walk Alone' in unison.

Don't get me wrong, that atmosphere isn't unique to the Reds of Liverpool.  If you are a Man U fan or Chelsea, Southampton or even a different sport like American Footballs Giants, Raiders, Bears, you will understand what I am describing.  There is something special about being in a stadium with tens of thousands of likeminded fans, watching the best of the best play their sport.

For ninety minutes tomorrow the cares of the world will disappear.  I will sing my heart out, shout at the top of my lungs, cheer every goal, gasp at every near miss, abuse the referee for every decision that goes against us, clap every one in our favour and generally embarrass my lovely wife as I enthusiastically support the team I have loved from childhood.  If we lose I will be grumpy for days, if we win I will want to relive every moment with her all the way home - which she will hate.

The ridiculous reality is that sport is nothing more than a distraction from the mundane of our lives, yet those of us who love it - and there are millions like us - pour every ounce of our emotions into each game as if winning or losing is a personal triumph or a personal failure.  Yet the reality is the winning or losing is done by a team of young men, much younger, much fitter and much more skilful than us.  Often those young men don't even have the same passion for the team as we do because to them it is simply a job.  My team, as are so many others, is full of players who aren't from Liverpool or even England.  Some of them can't even speak my language.  Next season some of them will move to another club because they can get higher wages or play in more prestigious competitions.  There is no loyalty to the club or the supporters.

Yet none of that will matter this afternoon for those ninety minutes when eleven red shirts representing Liverpool FC will do battle with eleven yellow shirts of Watford FC.  All the ridiculous reality will be meaningless between the kick off and the referees final whistle.  And that is how it should be. Sometimes we need to stop reading too much into things and just let ourselves enjoy something for what it is - trivial, meaningless and simply magnificent.

My entire childhood was blighted by the necessity of reading 'everything' into every occasion.

A school friend would invite me to a birthday party but I couldn't attend because 'Jehovah doesn't approve of birthday parties because in the two birthday celebrations mentioned in the bible someone was killed.

We couldn't celebrate Christmas because it had some distant connection to pagans worshipping the sun!

We couldn't celebrate Bonfire night because - well to be honest I can't even remember why we couldn't have fireworks!

My parents wouldn't even attend my sisters wedding because she was marrying someone who 'didn't love Jehovah!'  The fact that he (her fiance) loved her seemed to pass them by entirely!

I can honestly say that during my entire life as a JW I never felt even a fraction of the passion for the religion that I feel when I watch my football team, which, when you think about it, doesn't make any real sense. My football team might win a match, they might even win a Cup or even the league.  If they are really good they might even win the European Champions League - the highest possible achievement for a European club - but surely that should pale into insignificance next to eternal life in paradise?

Yet Witnesses cannot replicate the passion of a football match at their meetings or their assemblies because as much as a game of soccer is trivial and inconsequential, it is still real, still tangible and honest.  It might not mean anything in the great scheme of things but just for a short time, just for those ninety glorious minutes, it brings fifty thousand people together, all focused on a common aim. Winning.

Of course I don't expect a congregation of JW's to chant, sing, cheer and clap through a meeting.

That isn't what I meant.  For years I went along with what my parents and the Governing Body taught me, yet I felt no real enthusiasm for it - no passion, excitement and love.  Rather it left me empty, devoid of any enthusiasm.  I didn't want to cheer, I wanted to hide.  I didn't want anyone to know that I was part of this ridiculous sect.

Despite the promises of living forever, the resurrection, perfect health, no more war and crime I couldn't get enthused because deep down I knew those promises were empty.  At least, for ninety minutes today, I will be a tiny part in a crowd with a common passion, a desire to see our chosen team win - it may not mean anything in the great scheme of things but at least it's real.