The Raven Foundation

That’s mimetic.

The “Tebowing” and now “Cruzing” and “Bradying” phenomena are evidence of humanity’s mimetic nature.  As René Girard has put forth in developing the “mimetic theory,” humans are the best imitators on the planet.  We are so good at imitating, most of the time we don’t even know we are doing it.  This non-conscious imitation is how we learn from others.  Girard calls the “others” we imitate our models – we admire our models and want to be like them.  We want their success, fame, prestige, or fortune.  For example, as the above video shows, our culture has begun to dance the salsa in imitation of Victor Cruz’s celebrations after scoring a touchdown.  As the announcer in the video says, “The salsa is spreading like an internet virus.”  Babies, teenagers, and adults (even a dog!) are imitating Cruz’s victory dance.  Not only are we imitating Cruz, but we are imitating others who are imitating Cruz – hence the baby and the dog.

Even Madonna isn’t immune from imitating Cruz.

According to Girard, this imitation is a positive thing because it’s how we learn, but he also claims there is a dark side to this imitation.  It can turn very negative.  As we imitate one another in the desire for success, fame prestige, or fortune, we can easily fall into rivalry with one another because we desire the same things.  Two football teams, let’s take the Giants and the Patriots for example, want the same thing – to win the Super Bowl.  After winning, the Giants can celebrate by dancing the salsa, but how do the Patriots feel?  Envious.  Why?  Because they want what the Giants have – success.  And here’s the scandal: If you are a Patriots fan, you have a secret admiration for Giants fans.  You admire them because they have what you want.  Sure you feel a sense of hatred, but behind every hatred is a sense of admiration.

When the other team has what we want, we get frustrated.  And frustration always finds an outlet.  If we don’t deal with frustration in a positive way, the need for an outlet will either cause internal strife within our community as we blame one another for a loss, or we will find an external outlet.  As the video shows, a group of frustrated Patriots’ fans were congregating in Boston after the game.  A Giants fan did a little salsa dance, and the group turned into a mob.  Its frustrations coalesced on the man and “as he continued to taunt the crowd, he got sucker punched.”

Yes.  It was a stupid thing to do.  But he was imitating his model, Victor Cruz.  Every celebration after a touchdown will be interpreted by the other team as a taunt.  As a bit of mockery.  In essence we’re saying, “I have what you want.”

And then the ultimate taunt – “Nananananana!”

We imitate winners, but we can also imitate “losers.”  Imitating losers can be a positive thing, if we imitate them in order to share in their pain.  But it can also be a negative thing, as I think is the case with the “Bradying” phenomenon.  Imitating losers is often a way of mocking them – but we only mock those we secretly admire.  We admire our models and our rivals.  In fact, our rival is also our model, for we want what our rival has.  Football fans admire Tom Brady because he has the success we all want.  Playing in five Super Bowls and winning three of them is an amazing career.  We envy Brady because we want the success he’s had.  And so when he fails we mock him.  We imitate one another in mocking him in order to keep him down.  For when our rival is down, we are up.

We admire both our models and our rivals.  We want what they have, which can lead to rivalry, and even to violence.  Now, you may be searching for an answer to all of this negative imitation that’s going on.  Fortunately, there is an answer – but, I’ll tell you up front, few people like it.  It’s not glamorous.  And it’s hard work.  If you want to transform this negative imitation into a positive imitation, the answer is in identifying with cultural “losers” in a way that feels their pain.  Few people want to do that.  We’d rather do a salsa dance – and keep others from dancing with us.

Giants and Patriots fans, after all, don’t dance together.

Chills run down my spine whenever I see athletes thank God for a victory or for a good play.  It’s because I think our God-talk matters.  Our prayers matter.  When God is thanked for a victory or a great play, it reveals something significant about the kind of God we believe in.  It reveals that we believe in the “God of Victory.”  That God sides with the powerful, with the winners.  Of course, athletes aren’t the only people who hold to this theology – many politicians, generals, business-people, and pastors believe in the God of Victory, too.

Here’s part of my problem – I like the “God of Victory,” too.  He (and usually it’s a He) leads us in battle against our opponents, and if we do all the right things, that God will ensure our victory.  I find this God very enticing.  Indeed, I want this God on my side.  The problem is, if I’m going to invoke this God, I have to reject the God revealed through Jesus Christ.  You can’t have the “God of Victory” and the God of Jesus at the same time.  Jesus sided with the outcasts of culture, especially the outcasts of religious culture.  He didn’t go out and bless the successful, he specifically blessed the losers, the outcasts, the marginalized.  The religious establishment claimed that if you were a loser – if you were poor, or diseased, or blind – that God had cursed you and it was your own fault because you sinned.  (See John chapter 9.)  Jesus went to those losers and he healed them.  He treated them like they were important, because, for Jesus, they were important.  Matthew chapter 4 puts this succinctly.  The first thing Jesus did in his ministry was to go, “throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.”   Here we see that Jesus stood in solidarity with the losers.

All that being said, I love Tim Tebow.  This is more than just a Christian “you-should-love-your-neighbor-even-if-they-annoy-you” kind of love.  I’m talkin’ man-crush kind of love.  Yup.  Me and the Tebow.  He’s becoming one of my models.  Here’s why: Tobow is bold and I wish I had some of his audacious faith.  He risks his reputation by putting himself out there because of his faith.  When many fellow Christians and many non-Christians began to turn against him for praying before, during, and after football games, I felt sympathy for him.  I mean, I’m sure Tebow is concerned about what others think about him, but I think it’s pretty cool that he’s more concerned about praying.  I can tell you this: I wish I had some of his boldness.

Here’s the other reason I like Tebow: he’s forced me to re-think those chills that run down my spine when I see athletes pray.  Those chills mean something about my God-talk, too.  I can get pretty judgmental in my theology, turning the God who sides with the losers of culture into another “God of Victory” who uses power to defeat the winners of culture.  Indeed, there’s an important place for prophetic critique of cultural power systems, but as I break out my inner prophet, I need to acknowledge that I participate in, and benefit from, many of those cultural power systems that create losers.

Ultimately, I don’t know what Tebow is praying for.  Is he praying for victory?  Is he praying that no one gets hurt?  Is he praying for the six million children who die every year from hunger?  And is he using his money and influence to help solve those kinds of problems?

I don’t know.  And frankly, if I’m asking those kinds of questions to find out whether or not he is a “good Christian” I risk scapegoating him.  I risk putting him down as a “bad Christian” so I can feel better about my own participation in power systems, and feel better about my feeble attempts to transform those power systems.  If I’m going to ask those questions of Tebow and other athletes, I need to ask them of myself, too.  What am I doing to help solve those problems?  Not enough.  How often do I turn a blind eye to the suffering in my church?  In my neighborhood?  In my state?  In my country?  In the world?  All too often.

So, I’d say this to my man-crush:  keep praying, Tim.  Regardless of what you are praying for, keep praying.  Because whether you realize it or not, when you pray, you pray to the God who sides with the “losers” of our world.  Because that’s the only God there is.  If it hasn’t happened yet, that God will seize you sooner or later, and I pray that that God seizes me, too.