The Sunday News
Lighterside
EVERY Sunday morning, MaDube gets out of bed with a smile. At last, another day of worship has arrived. Today, four hours of her time will be well spent at her loved church. In that holy place, she will sit at her usual bench, sing those delightful, soul lifting songs, sway her body to those melodious sounds, interact and hug people with a similar outlook in life, swap stories about experiences of the preceding week, listen to the soothing and inspiring word from the man of God . . . aah, what a day to look forward to! Long before she is at church, she hums her favourite songs. With all its difficulties and disappointments, life is worth living.
Next door to MaDube, ubaba uNcube springs out of bed with a smile. It is another day of football. He keeps singing a line from an old Juluka hit, Ibhola Lethu — namhlanje sizoqeda zonke izinkulumo (today we will stop all the talking). He revels in the air filled with the piercing but delightful sounds of vuvuzelas. Three exciting hours will be spent at that revered stadium.
He will sit at his usual place surrounded by fellow supporters. Together, they will chant those rousing war songs, hurl insults at rival players and the referee, shower praises at his players, hug fellow supporters, exchange encouraging words with real people . . . aah what a day to look forward to! Indeed, life is worth living.
Could it be that football and church people are the two sides of the same coin? What do these two groups of people have in common?
For starters, church people and football supporters are loyal to their organisations. A story is told that one day in heaven an angel had to interrupt the singing of one group. “Not so loud brothers and sisters,” the angel said. “Only a stone throw away, members of denomination X are also singing. They believe they are the only denomination that has made it to heaven and will be disappointed to realise that you too made it.”
Most religious groups believe they have the monopoly of truth. Theirs is the one and only correct way. The holy book they use is the only right book in the whole world. Their interpretation of the book is the only correct one. They feel pity for other lost souls and see it as their mission to win them over.
Football fans believe their team is the best on all accounts. Their colours are simply the most attractive. A Newcastle United supporter once boasted: “our black and white stripes and black shorts are so captivating that one can stand watching and cheering all day the washed uniforms on a drying line.” Needles to say fellow supporters heartily agreed with him.
Unfortunately for football supporters, reality occasionally intrudes. Best though they may be, their teams sometimes lose. Supporters are never short of explanations. Poor refereeing, wrong strategy by the bench, a sub-standard pitch, and absence of key players . . . There is never a shortage of reasons. Supporters have all week to talk before the next match. To be fair, supporters sometimes acknowledge that their rivals were good. When Germany scored their seventh goal, some Brazilians cheered.
Could this have been an admiration for a side that was reminding them how football should be played? But the Brazilians continue to love their side and hope for better days to come.
Church people also sometimes acknowledge that there is something to be admired at another denomination. It could be their music, their uniform accessory, their church building . . . something, “but overall, our church remains best. After all, Satan could have helped church X to achieve what they did.” Like Brazilians, admiring another church does not dent the love for their own.
“I believe in miracles,” Eric Brown of Hot Chocolate once sang. So do church goers and football supporters. Most football fans will tell at least a miracle they witnessed. Their team was down and out. It was hopeless. Some fellow supporters had even streamed out of the stadium. All hope was lost. Suddenly, player Y rose to the occasion and against all odds, he won the day for the team. It was miracle. “Thanks to him, we made it.”
Church people are never short of miracle stories. I remember a primary school teacher who told us that he knew a pastor who would stroll in a downpour but remain dry. For a radius of five yards around him, no rain fell. The teacher said he and a few people would huddle around the pastor and walk with him. When they reached their destination people receiving them would marvel at how they had remained dry. I suspect that you too dear reader have a miracle story either from football or church to tell.
On Sunday evening MaDube and Ncube look back at a satisfying day. By going out to their respective organisations, both feel their batteries have been recharged and look forward to the challenges of the week.
