Learning Hope from the Lions

It’s an exciting time to be a Michigander!

True, our roads are still horrible, Flint’s water is still poison, and we won’t see the sun again until April, but none of that really matters. . . the Detroit Lions just won the division and are heading to the playoffs!

I consider myself a casual sports fan. I enjoy participating in athletic endeavors, and I am not averse to watching NFL games on Sunday afternoons while I doze off after morning worship. But let me tell you, there are some people around me who are really into the Lions, and I mean big time. They wear costumes, although I think they prefer the term uniforms, on game day. They erupt in joys of delight or release shouts of anguish depending on the twists and turns of a game. This phenomenon is found not with one team but with all of them. Yet, while fandom might be a universal trait, the joy experienced by Lions fans this year runs a little deeper. 

Since 1957 the Lions have won a grand total of two playoff games. They are one of only three franchises in NFL history to have never played in a Super Bowl. What Lions fan can forget the memorable 0-16 season of 2008? People were so embarrassed by their play that fans went to games wearing brown paper bags over their heads. It was an ugly time, and there was no real light at the end of the tunnel. You would hear people on the street saying that the Lions would never win a Super Bowl in their lifetime. They would always stink. In short, they were hopeless.

They were hopeless, until they weren’t. In 2021 the Lions went 3-13: pretty typical. But with a new coach in 2022, they went 9-8. In 2023 they won 12 games and even a playoff game. And now this year, they are 15-2, the Divisional Champs and have a first round bye in the playoffs. For you non-sports folks, that means the Lions are good, really good.

I ponder what causes grown adults to care so deeply about a game, or how I can be sitting in a room full of people who claim to be feeling the effects of inflation in more than $100 jerseys cheering for people they probably will never meet? What would cause grown, rugged, blue collar men to wipe away real tears of joy for a game.

At least in part, I think it’s hope. To witness this kind of a turnaround gives us hope. There are probably a host of other reasons, but today I choose hope. Lions fans have suffered for a lifetime, and now they have found hope. For decades, it seemed impossible, unthinkable, and yet here it is, hope. I can get behind that.

While not a scientific poll by any means, I spent a few days asking friends, congregants, and even a stranger at a coffee shop to tell me a word that summed up their thoughts for 2025. Not one of them even hinted at hope.

On the surface, I echo their hopelessness. I’ve written a few times about my struggles with the modern church in North America. I don’t see it as hope-filled. Of course there are always glimpses of grace, of beauty, of love, of laughter, but are we a beacon of hope for a broken world? Do we even carry the one who gives us hope?

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think the church is 0-16. No one is coming to church with a brown bag over their head. But our numbers show that we are in the middle of a rather prolonged slump. And like casual sports fans, most of us can name the reality, but there are few who can really do something about it.

But as I think about the Lions, hope did not just happen. Hope takes work. Hope came in part through an openness to change. There was an honest self-examination and a realization that the ideas, tactics, and culture the Lions were creating and using weren’t working. I wonder if we are willing to look in the mirror and ask the difficult questions of ourselves?

The change that was needed for the Lions included a change in leadership. This one hits a little closer to home. New players, new coaches, new leadership in general came in with new ideas and opportunities for winning. A new culture was created, one that took pride in their work and who believed in themselves. The work might have been harder, but the players were now part of something they believed in. I do wonder if our church leaders have gotten in the way of hope? I wonder if I have?

And finally, for hope to be realized, Lions fans had to be persistently patient. Even through the ugliness, coaches still had to coach, players needed to play, advertisers needed to pay up, and fans had to keep buying tickets. Some died without ever seeing the fruit of their persistent fandom faithfulness. But they too were part of the hope.

Of course our hope is not based on our work but on the work of Christ who has already come and who is coming again. Ours is a hope whose victory has already been achieved, even if we can’t always see it. 

But we have a role to play in hope don’t we, even if we’re just the messenger? At the start of a new year, I desire to live with, preach, and participate in hope. Go Lions!