Churches are filling up, Bible sales are booming, and prayer is drifting back into daily life. Even Joe Rogan, a barometer of pop-culture skepticism, has hosted believers and Christian apologists.

In the realm of sports, this shift is even more pronounced. UFC fighters and NFL stars openly declare their faith.

Culture says to follow your emotions. Sports — like Scripture — teaches the opposite.

Then there’s Boston Celtics coach Joe Mazzulla.

The Undertaker got baptized. Olympians defied the rule against "religious demonstrations" and openly praised Jesus for their victories. Given the excesses of the opening ceremony, this defiance was warranted.

Christian athletes have devoted themselves to testimony. Their faith is central to everything they do. It's in the way Caitlin Clark responds to hostility on the court with Christlike kindness. And in Notre Dame quarterback Riley Leonard's frequent interjections of "Jesus bless." And in Ohio State quarterback Will Howard's response after beating Notre Dame for the national title: “First and foremost, I got to give the glory and the praise to my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.”

Even in the heat of competition, faith finds its way onto the field. After a hard-fought game, Texas Longhorns running back Nik Sanders had a question for Arizona State’s Cam Skattebo: “Can I pray for you?”

“The influence of athletes is huge,” Fellowship of Christian Athletes Chief Sport Officer Sean McNamara told me, “if they can market products, why not use their platform to share faith?”

Faith and athleticism

Athletes have always shared their faith. But lately Christian athletes are more assertive, less shy. Faith and athleticism seem like a natural pairing.

I spoke with Matthew Hoven, an associate professor of sport and religion at St. Joseph's College at the University of Alberta, about this relationship.

Both sports and Christianity, he explained, focus on shaping character, fostering teamwork, and encouraging self-denial.

“There are many parallels between the life of faith and a life in sport,” he said, adding that even prayer can find a natural place in the athletic domain.

Sports, he told me, are not just physical but spiritual.

The connection isn’t limited to individuals — it’s woven into the history of sports themselves. James Naismith, a Protestant minister, invented basketball at the YMCA as a way to teach moral discipline through physical activity. In Canada, Father David Bauer, a Catholic priest, founded the country’s first national ice hockey team.

College football began at Christian institutions. In tough urban neighborhoods, Catholic priests often used boxing as a way to mentor and guide young men.

Fellowship on the field

What if Jesus had been a coach? That's the question McNamara poses.

"He would’ve been incredibly successful," McNamara says. "Who wouldn’t want to play for a leader who puts others ahead of himself? If you think about all the biblical principles, all that Jesus modeled, that kind of coaching would bring both victory and joy.

"At the cross of Christ, we’re all on equal footing — just like when the ball rolls onto the field," he says. "No matter where you come from, what you look like, or your background, sports create a unifying space, just like faith does."

As a longtime coach, McNamara notices how teams instinctively gravitate toward unity. "When a team breaks a huddle, they often choose to shout 'family' because they feel that deep connection," he says. "That mirrors what we experience as Christians — we’re brothers and sisters in Christ, bound by something greater than ourselves."

Sports also teach lessons about seasons of life. "Every team experiences beginnings and endings, just like we do in our faith journey," he says. "And while new ideas come and go in sports, the fundamentals never change — just like God’s word. The basics of the game, the things that lead to success, are timeless. The Bible is the same way — it's our playbook for life."

Strong mind, strong body

Plato was a talented wrestler. Several historians have even argued that “Plato” was actually a nickname that arose from the philosopher’s grappling tactics. There’s even a legend that Plato often broke into flexing his muscles mid-argument as a kind of rebuttal.

The ancients generally believed equally in mental exercise and physical training. In fact, prevailing thought linked physical ability with mental and moral growth. The improvement of the body was fundamental to the cultivation of virtue.

Plato believed that being physically strong or skilled isn’t enough to develop a good mind or character. But rather, a strong mind and good character strengthen the body.

Enlightenment thinkers began an ongoing centuries-long shift toward a scientific conception of the body, an elevation of the cultural and social functions of the mind.

Muscular Christianity

The Industrial Revolution saw a return to premodern notions with the rise of muscular Christianity. As men moved from farm labor to sedentary factory jobs, Protestant leaders worried that physical and spiritual fitness were declining.

Athleticism could bring theology to life. This moral dimension rose from the propriety and conservatism of the Victorian era, which has since been mythologized as a squeamish epoch full of people who dressed piano legs in trousers to hide their wooden nakedness.

In reality, proponents of the philosophy wanted to regain a masculine energy that arose from physical training. An emasculated society, they held, was prone to a brand of collectivism that discarded the nation.

Muscular Christianity migrated to America in time for Teddy Roosevelt to model the power of rugged manliness.

Who gets the glory?

A high-level athlete, as David Foster Wallace once observed, must "visit and test parts of his psyche that most of us do not even know for sure we have, to manifest in concrete form virtues like courage, persistence in the face of pain or exhaustion, performance under wilting scrutiny and pressure.” This mental strength, combined with the humility to glorify God rather than self, elevates the Christian athlete’s calling.

Success, in life and sports, is never fully within our control.

With this in mind, I spoke to Luis Fernando Aragón-Vargas, a professor at the University of Costa Rica, who has written extensively about the intersection of faith and sports. His nine-part series, “The Christian Athlete,” serves as a road map for athletes seeking to align their ambitions with their beliefs. For Aragón, the central question every Christian athlete must ask is: “Who gets the glory?”

Not the performers, who could easily fall into the idolatry of fame. Success is a gift.

He challenges athletes to examine their motivations, even suggesting that they imagine rejecting trophies if doing so would better honor God.

To Aragón, athletic talent is a pious gift — a responsibility to steward, not a tool for self-glory. Athletic competition, when viewed through this lens, becomes an act of worship, a way to honor God with the body as a temple of the Holy Spirit.

This perspective is rooted in Scripture. Paul, writing to the Corinthians, uses athletic metaphors to illustrate spiritual truths: “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.”

Sacrifice and dedication should guide all pursuits.

In 2 Timothy, Paul reflects, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”

Prayer as discipline

What does it mean for a Christian athlete to let his faith shine? Is it in the postgame prayer, broadcast to millions, or in the quiet moments when no one is watching?

Athletes live in the tension between public and private faith. Their victories and failures unfold in real time, under the world’s gaze. That vulnerability can be daunting — but it can also be a strength. Like the tax collector in Luke 18, they’re called to humility, to a faith that acknowledges dependence on grace rather than self-sufficiency.

The Christian athlete’s life is not about escaping vulnerability but embracing it as a path to authenticity. Prayer plays a central role in this balance — not just as a moment of personal connection with God but as a disciplined practice of listening and humility. Like athletic training, prayer requires focus, endurance, and a willingness to align oneself with a greater purpose.

The awesome moves of a gifted athlete are an outcome of prayer.

Jesus warns against performative faith in Matthew 6, calling His followers to pray and serve in humility. Yet in Matthew 10, He commands them to proclaim their faith boldly. The challenge for Christian athletes isn’t choosing between private and public devotion — it’s living with both, ensuring that what’s done in the spotlight is rooted in what’s cultivated in secret.

The value of failure

"Competitive athletics is broken," David Fraze told me.

Fraze, a longtime youth minister and professor at Lubbock Christian University, has spent 36 years working with Christian athletes. He co-authored Practical Wisdom for Families with Athletes, a guide to balancing competition, character, and identity.

Fraze believes faith changes the game.

Fraze touts the value of failure, an idea too often overlooked in youth sports. "We have Little League and Pee Wee, where we’re way out of balance," he says. "We’re giving them rings for winning a weekend championship. That’s sick."

Young athletes rarely get the chance to fail in a healthy way. When they do, parents intervene — switching teams, blaming coaches, throwing money at trainers.

But real growth comes through hardship, through discovering limits and learning to work within them.

For Christian athletes, this lesson matters beyond sports. "The Christian life isn’t about avoiding hell," Fraze says. "It’s about transformation." And transformation, like success in sports, comes through discipline — through small, daily habits that prepare a person for the moments that matter. "

Identity over emotion

“We process thousands of thoughts per second — maybe billions subconsciously,” Fraze told me. “I could tell you, ‘You’re great, you’re talented.’ But one doubt — ‘I messed that up’ — can wipe it all out.”

It’s not just sports. A single negative thought can drown out a flood of encouragement. And for many young athletes, those thoughts aren’t just internal — they’ve been reinforced by parents, coaches, or peers. “A lot of these kids have been told they’re stupid, fat, or not good enough,” Fraze said. “It takes a community to undo that kind of damage.”

That’s why sports matter beyond the game. A coach, a teammate, even the structure of a team itself can rewrite the narrative. “What do you bring to this team?” Fraze asks his athletes. “Because if your identity is tied to your batting average or your 40-yard dash, that’s a rough life.”

The sports world calls it mindfulness. Fraze sees it as something deeper — focus, discipline, and faith. Athletes train their bodies through repetition, refining small details until excellence becomes second nature. Faith works the same way. Prayer, worship, virtue — habits shape performance under pressure.

“Our identity determines our actions, then our feelings,” Fraze said. “If I start with feelings — ‘I’m tired, I don’t care’ — everything falls apart. But when identity comes first, everything else follows.”

Culture says to follow your emotions. Sports — like Scripture — teaches the opposite. A quarterback stepping into the arena may be struck by fear, but his training dictates his actions. Likewise, a Christian’s actions aren’t led by temporary feelings but by the identity given to him in Jesus Christ.

Deny yourself and be free

While modern life often encourages isolation and self-interest, Christian athleticism values connection. Sports provide a unique opportunity: to engage with the other is to step into a space of vulnerability and transformation. It is through the other — our teammates, opponents, and communities — that we redefine ourselves and encounter God.

For Christian athletes, this dynamic is lived out in countless small acts: the teammate who sacrifices personal glory for the team, the opponent who shows grace in defeat, the fan inspired by an athlete’s humility.

To run the race

Sports reveal humanity. Christian athleticism takes us even farther. It’s about striving for excellence while remaining humble, using sports as a platform to reflect something greater than ourselves.

The race Christian athletes run is not for trophies that tarnish or records that fade. It’s for a crown that lasts forever. Their boldness, discipline, and faith offer a powerful witness to a world hungry for something deeper than the game.

Sportswriter Ring Lardner is said to have said, “The only real happiness a ballplayer has is when he is playing a ball game and accomplishes something he didn’t think he could do.”

This definition does not apply to Christian athletes. They’re too intentional. The ultimate goal is not to win but to testify. Their platforms, their discipline, and their faith all converge in a single mission: to glorify God.

In their wins and their vulnerabilities, in their public prayers and private devotions, they invite the world to see something eternal.

In every act of sportsmanship, every moment of grace, they echo the words of Samuel: “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”