While the nature of God remains a mystery, one aspect of divinity is certain: God is a sports fan and athletes have a right to thank Him.

I didn’t always think this was true. Earlier this year, when a freshman wrestler I interviewed thanked God after his performance, I was puzzled. Did God really care about Harvard varsity wrestling?

More recently, in the CRASH-B sprints, sophomore heavyweight Aaron Holzapfel, a devout Christian, jokingly rowed under the name Kevin McHale of the “Live For Jesus Always” Club.

“Jesus is the only thing worth living, rowing and dying for,” Holzapfel said.

Of course, Jesus would never have rowed—he walked on water. Nonetheless, Holzapfel’s comments got me thinking. Athletes are often criticized for thanking God. Is this criticism justified?

The standard objection runs something like, “God doesn’t care about the Red Sox, he cares about starving children in Africa.”

On the surface, this makes sense. But think about it: if God really cared about starving children in Africa, would they be starving? If you look at God’s moral batting average through history, he’s hitting way below the Mendoza line.

In my opinion, God doesn’t care about human suffering in any meaningful way. This view is consistent with the book of Job and with much of the Old Testament (or as I like to call it, The Bible).

This is not say that God does not exist. In Job, God not only exists, but he controls all aspects of our universe, including, among other things, the mating of mountain goats (Job 39:1).

If God has a hand in goat sex, one can only assume that he was pulling Carlton Fisk’s shot fair. But the Red Sox lost that World Series—what sense does that make?

To me, the point of Job is to show that God is responsible for all things, but is still amoral. Thus, no matter how righteous you are, you still may never win a championship.

The Prophet Leo Durocher’s quote “nice guys finish last” could’ve easily come from the Bible. Abraham, Isaac and Jacob were not particularly nice guys and they did all right. Criminals Ty Cobb, Ray Lewis and Mike Tyson all ruled their respective sports (indeed, Mike Tyson is proof that God is a twisted sports fan—how else could the world’s scariest man have the girliest voice?).

For every Mike Tyson there is a George Foreman, a good man earning championship belts (and millions of dollars from grill machines). My point is, both Foreman’s and Tyson’s successes are equally under God’s influence.

The problem with God’s role in sports is not the Tysons. It’s the Evander Holyfields—men who profess righteousness but father an army of out-of-wedlock children. This kind of hypocrisy should certainly be condemned—perhaps God sent Tyson to smite Evander’s ear?

But there are even more problems than the sins of “religious” athletes. What happens when Boston College plays Notre Dame? Who does God root for? What about in Brigham Young’s games?