On World Cup final day, Christians in Sport had the privilege of hosting BBC Radio 4’s ‘Sunday Worship’ programme. Titled 'Winners and Losers', the programme was an opportunity to explore what the Bible says about sport, competition at the highest level, and how that impacts personal identity.
You can listen back to the full programme here, with staff members Laura Murdoch and Lloyd Thomas contributing as well as Christians in Sport volunteers.
You can read Graham Daniel's talk on identity, sport and faith in Christ, below.
Today, all around the globe, millions will be arranging their day around a football match.
The World Cup final is one of those rare occasions when the whole world seems to stop for ninety minutes. Nations hold their breath. Families gather. Players walk out carrying not only their own hopes but the expectations of millions. And by the end of the evening, one image will dominate our screens: a captain lifting a trophy. It’s one of the most powerful images in sport. For years, perhaps decades, athletes dream of that moment. Endless training sessions. Sacrifices. Injuries. Setbacks. All for the possibility of standing on the biggest stage and hearing the final whistle with your team ahead.
But I've often wondered whether the most interesting moment in sport comes not before the final whistle but after it. The celebrations are extraordinary. The confetti falls. Medals are handed out. Photographs are taken. And yet many athletes have spoken about a surprising experience. They reach the summit and discover that the summit cannot answer the deepest questions of life.
Even for a club board member it can be tough when your team actually gains promotion – perversely, that then requires the club to get rid of certain players in order to acquire new ones who hopefully will be better able to play to the next level. Promotion, which looks like pure success, still contains loss.
The former tennis champion Andre Agassi once wrote something remarkable after achieving everything he thought he wanted. He said simply:
"Winning changes nothing."
Now of course winning changes many things. Careers change. Opportunities change. History books change. But it cannot finally answer the question every human being carries. Am I enough? Sport simply reveals a question that all of us face. For some people the scoreboard matters. For others it’s exam results. Career success. Financial security. Social status. Recognition. Approval. The comparisons change, but the temptation remains the same. That is, to believe that achievement can tell us who we are.
The Christian faith offers a different starting point. The apostle Paul writes in Ephesians:
"It is by grace you have been saved ... not by works."
In other words, before we achieve anything, we are loved. Before we perform, we are valued. Before we succeed or fail, our worth is received rather than earned. Human dignity does not begin with accomplishment. It begins with a gift. Or to put it another way: human worth is received, not achieved. That's not just good news for footballers tonight.
It's good news for all of us. Because sooner or later every trophy tarnishes, every career changes, every success fades. The question is whether there’s something deeper that remains when the cheering stops. And Christianity says there is: the love of God in Christ - which no victory can increase and no defeat can diminish.
As the final whistle sounds tonight, one team will celebrate. The other will probably (if they follow precedent) sit on the pitch in tears.
For most of us, if we're honest, that’s the image we try hardest to avoid. Nobody likes losing. Yet sport teaches us something important about being human.
There’s a profound difference between saying, "I failed" and saying, "I am a failure."
The first describes an event. The second describes an identity. And confusion between those two things causes enormous damage, not only in sport but throughout life. Because life contains loss. Applications fail. Relationships break down. Businesses struggle. Dreams disappoint. At some point all of us discover that we cannot always win. The Christian faith never denies the pain of that reality.
The Bible is full of people who knew disappointment, uncertainty and defeat.
Think of the apostle Peter. On the night Jesus was arrested, Peter failed spectacularly. The man who’d promised unwavering loyalty denied even knowing him. Three times. Yet the remarkable thing is that Peter's failure didn’t become his identity. The risen Jesus sought him out, restored him, and entrusted him with responsibility once again.
Peter could honestly say, "I failed." But he didn’t have to conclude, "I am a failure.” That distinction lies at the heart of the Christian faith. Our mistakes, our disappointments and even our deepest regrets are real. But they don’t have the final word. They don’t have the authority to define us.
One of the passages I often return to is the one we heard earlier from Ephesians, where Paul describes Christians as ‘God's handiwork, created for good works.’
Notice the order. We are God's handiwork first. Then we do good works. Identity comes before achievement. Grace comes before performance. I've sometimes put it like this: sport belongs in Ephesians 2 verse 10, not Ephesians 2 verses 8 and 9. Achievement matters. Excellence matters. Competition matters. But they are expressions of identity, not sources of identity. That insight changes everything. It means we can celebrate success without worshipping it.
We can pursue excellence without being enslaved by it. We can lose without being destroyed by it. And perhaps that’s one of the hidden gifts of sport. Every four years the World Cup reminds us that human beings long for glory. The Christian story says that longing points beyond any stadium, beyond any trophy, beyond any final whistle. It points towards the God whose verdict on our lives does not depend on the score.
So whether tonight brings celebration or disappointment to Argentina and Spain and their fans, and whether you're watching football or simply listening from home, remember this: God's love isn’t revealed on the scoreboard. It’s revealed in Jesus Christ. And because of that, the deepest truth about us isn’t what we achieve. It’s what we have received.
Amen