Interfaith Theologian

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Ray Lewis, Faith, and the Power of Public Confession

The turnaround in Ray Lewis’ life has been a curiosity that many in the world of sports have watched for some time. Lewis’ larger-than-life personality and the emotion he brings to the game has been met with the support of fans and the incredulity of others who point to a fateful event 12 years earlier for which he has been unable to disentangle from the Hall of Fame career he has created. As the Ravens look towards Super Bowl Forty-Seven and Lewis gets set a second and final time to take the biggest stage in the world of sports, I would like to reflect a little bit on appropriate theological responses to a the man who claims to live his life by the faith he preaches to us every time a microphone or media opportunity presents itself.

Those who believe Lewis has been unjustifiably embraced are usually those who make up the larger majority of fans who support teams that the Ravens must face each season. Of course, Lewis is not the only person subject to the unforgiving scrutiny of opposing fans, and part of the trash talk in calling him a “murderer” or “criminal” comes with the unfortunate residue that accompanies every sport. But there are also those who feel strongly beyond the hash marks of the football field that Lewis should pay for his crimes – crimes that date back to an incident in which Lewis and his entourage was involved in an afterhours scuffle leaving two young men dead.  To what degree Lewis was involved we may never know. Reports from witnesses say Lewis fled to the limousine awaiting his group outside and they quickly left the scene. Lewis was reportedly overheard saying that he would not allow this to end his football career. He was eventually found innocent of all charges with the exception of an obstruction of justice charge. He later was sued successfully by the families of both men, echoing the course of events in the O.J. Simpson trial, in which Simpson was pronounced innocent of murder but was found guilty in civil court and had to pay the victims’ family. This kind of “divided justice” naturally leaves the court of public opinion confused since the stigma of guilt that was served in civil court resonates despite his formally acquittal in criminal court.

Lewis has maintained his innocence. And unlike O.J. Simpson, whose collisions with the law continued, Lewis took a different path. He had a spiritual awakening and the influence of this, along with lots of personal and protective counsel, shone for Lewis a new way of life and helped to recreate his image. He cut ties with the bad influences in his past and ventured towards a future that continued to be promising, as his game play continued to sustain his elite-player status.  So too, fans of Lewis found it much easier to forgive and forget as he continued to successfully rally a winning Ravens organization. Lewis would take the team to the Super Bowl and win the MVP. The social good of community pride eclipsed the personal drama in Lewis’ life.

The problem remains that Lewis has done a consistent job of not addressing his past publically or in a way that adequately provides closure or support for the families of the incident except to put it behind him. On the one hand, this has had the effect of creating terrible unease. The families, who lost their sons consider his role one of intimate knowledge if not complicity, despite the monetary settlements. Supporters of Lewis contest that they are still looking to drag his name through the mud or are seeking more damages, or simply they want Lewis to suffer the same way they are suffering but unlike his cohorts it is only because of his celebrity status, which turns him into a likely target. In not addressing the situation at all, Lewis has basically shone that his Christian faith, which he effectively promotes as an unbounded effusion of positive thinking and success, fails to grasp the communal nature of our responsibilities towards others, and not just those who want to hear us.

I would submit however that this tension appears in the scriptures, and so understandably, it is difficult to know where Lewis’ own understanding or intentions lie. The scriptures talk about making peace with one’s enemies, regardless of the cause or nature of their enmity. Yet other verses talk about wiping the dust from one’s feet when those you speak to will have nothing to do with you, and still other verses say that when all efforts towards reconciliation have been exhausted than those people are to be counted as outside the greater fellowship of the faith. No one knows what Lewis has done privately (if anything), but the families continue to feel that his lack of acknowledgement in the public sphere is an important indicator of his lack of taking responsibility.

When one looks at Lewis, we can make an appeal to the Apostle Paul, the man who did not say follow me to the Super Bowl, but “follow me as I follow Christ.” When one studies Paul’s life, the man who next to Jesus set the moral tone for many of our foundational understandings of the Christian faith, one sees that there was a past that continued to inhabit and even hinder the transformed Paul that he himself could never excise. Paul called himself the chief of sinners, and he publically wrote to the churches about his own remorse for his role in persecuting the church of Christ. Others questioned the authority of Paul’s apostolic office because of his role in these persecutions. One must wonder if those who rejected Paul were those who knew those early Christians who lost their lives on account of Paul or were simply aroused by the rumors. Nevertheless, Paul acknowledges what many suspect, and he is even relieved when those who know his past embrace him in Christian love.

Part of Lewis’ understanding of his past life is the transformational nature of his change. The question of how he takes in his past, however, has not satisfied his critics even while his supporters look to either what he has accomplished in the game as a moral good in itself and thereby ignore his failures or look to the future. The problem is that because Lewis has made such a spectacle of his faith on the field, it is hard to ignore his moral character, but somehow he has managed to skirt Tim Tebow faith fame and be his own person. It causes one pause, especially when considering the social-economic realities of life and whether Lewis’ relevant star status is not the reason that saved him from the same fate as O.J. Simpson.

In the remorse shone by rich young ruler who had defrauded people in the gospels, there was an attempt at restitution. Lewis instead speaks about the empowering promises of God to go beyond himself and to do his best. In post-game interviews after the playoff run in 2012, Lewis’ was at the height of spiritual sensitivities. Telling national correspondents that “no weapon formed against him shall prosper,” Lewis continues to promote a theological language of escapism, a future bright and full of possibility against a past that is virtually stomped out.

Is such an attitude consistent with the biblical witness of how we ought to see ourselves in Christ? Paul took a hard road of rejection, lose of status, and all these things haunted him. Paul’s road to Christ was one of persecution and loss but always done with openness and honesty. His humility came in learning to “die daily.” Lewis has ignored his past and in embracing his new found life in Christ, has alienated those to whom the effects of his conversion may have spoken the loudest. Becoming a Christian does not exonerate us from the world around us. In doing so, we create an alternate kingdom, not one that has planted itself into the soil of the earth and claimed it despite the perils it may bring.

I want everyone to understand that I cannot judge Ray Lewis because I do not know enough about the situation. Furthermore, my Bible warns me not to judge “another man’s servant.” In fact, my own personal judgment is that Lewis was unlikely to have murdered these young men. Moreover, his obstruction of justice charge most likely stemmed from immaturity and his fierce loyalty to a group of friends that did not show the same respect for his situation at the time and rather than protect their friend, drew him into near career suicide by their actions. So perhaps Lewis doesn’t feel the need to think of himself like Paul. Yet the Paul from his letters talked about wishing to take the place of others for Christ’s sake, and not just those whom he loved. Consider how in Romans 11, he says he wishes he could be accursed for Israel. I’m not sure this means that Lewis must confess to something he didn’t do for the sake of bringing spiritual peace to those who still hold him accountable.  Understanding however that while he may have been targeted because of his star status (and barring the motives of his dissenters), his obligation to meet any situation and the demands of those situations begins in Christ. And that my friends is a tall order for any of us, even Ray Lewis.

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