Would God Still Be Good If You Lost?

As a former athlete, something is starting to bother me in the post-game interviews on television. The sideline reporter is talking to the star of the game after it just completed, and the player’s first words are “God is good” or “All glory goes to God” or something like these.

If God deserves the glory because your field goal went through, what are we supposed to say about the mother whose child died that afternoon?

If God intervened so that one team won, why didn't God intervene somewhere else where the stakes were infinitely greater?

I am not here to belittle anyone’s belief system; however, I have a few questions: Would God still be good if they had lost the game? Does God really care who wins a football game, or any game?

To me, there is an important difference between an athlete saying, “I am grateful to God for the ability and opportunity to play this game,” and saying, “God gave us this victory.” The first expresses gratitude. The second suggests divine intervention in the outcome, and that is where the theological problem begins for me.

Sports can offer us a respite from the pain and troubles of everyday life. They bring people together in so many ways, so I do not want my words to spoil the joy and happiness they bring. But we need to put everything, including sports, in context – it is just a game.

When the athlete wins and says, “God is good,” it can unintentionally connect God’s goodness to the favorable outcome. I won; therefore, God is good. If God's goodness isn't measured by whether He gives us the outcome we want, then what exactly do we mean when we say, “God is good”?

Why do we so readily see God’s hand in outcomes that favor us, yet struggle to recognize that same presence when life does not go our way?

The older I get, the harder it is for me to believe in a God who selectively intervenes in the outcomes of our lives. I have seen too much suffering that defies explanation. I have watched good people endure terrible hardship while others receive blessings they did nothing to earn. This has not necessarily made me believe less in God, but it has made me question what I believe God does.

What about the player on the losing team? Maybe he prayed, too. Both teams may kneel before the game. Both locker rooms may include people asking God for protection, strength, and victory. Yet one team still must lose.

So, what does the outcome really tell us about God? Perhaps nothing at all.

The losing quarterback may be just as faithful as the winning quarterback. If victory is treated as proof of God’s favor, then defeat begins to imply God’s disfavor. I do not believe that is what these athletes intend to say, but that is where the language can logically lead.

Perhaps prayer is not about asking God to control the scoreboard. Perhaps it is about asking for the strength to do your best, the courage to face failure, the humility to handle success, the gratitude to be present, and the grace to accept an outcome beyond your control.

Maybe “God is good” was never meant to mean, “God gave me what I wanted.” Maybe it points to something harder, and perhaps more faithful: that God remains good even when life does not turn out the way we hoped.