'Last week The Age ran an intriguing story about a Christian group called Third Coast Sports who want to hold "faith nights" prior to football matches. The Kangaroos seem keen on the idea and why wouldn't they be?

This suggestion offers the prospect of a few extra supporters through the turnstiles and the confirmation that God really is on their side.

But I wonder if this idea might be missing a rather obvious point: isn't God at the footy already? I mean if God is everywhere why not at the MCG on a cold Saturday afternoon in winter when we're eating "Four and Twenties" and screaming to our heart's content?

This link between God and footy may not be all that obvious for some. Our newspapers this year have been littered with stories of footballers and allegations of drug use and some suspect friendships.

Yet there are some obvious links that can be found between God and The Game. Both invoke a sense of awe, wonder and mystery. The theologians brand this as our awareness of the "numinous," [and] football supporters label it as "there's always next year." Watching Peter Daicos dribble the ball through the goals from near impossible angles, Chris Judd tear through packs at high speed or Gary Ablett sit on people's heads from a standing start have all been ample reminders of the unexplainable in our midst.

Going to the football really is a near religious experience. You find yourself lost, completely absorbed in something else. Time does not matter. The similarities don't end here.

Both God and football value the underdog. The Book of Exodus in the Bible speaks of a stuttering murderer called Moses becoming the great lawgiver and leader of the Jewish nation. This was to be a dramatic turnaround.

Football has similar tales of epic proportions and memorable reversals of fortune. In 1990 a player who had been discarded from his previous club and who stood only 163 centimetres tall had a Brownlow Medal draped around his neck. Libba was to become a byword for gutsy determination and reward for hard work in AFL circles (although some other less well chosen bywords were also used for him from supporters of others clubs at times.)

Most of all, faith and the footy are both about giving things up for the benefit of others. Glenn Archer (who has his own hard won label of Shinboner of the Century) has just passed Wayne Schimmelbusch's games record at the North Melbourne Football Club. He deserves it. A rugged kid from Noble Park, he has sacrificed his own physical well being for the benefit of others. Week in, week out. A few years ago he was willing to appear on TV with Wayne Carey for the first time after a bitter falling out. He did this in order to raise support and funds for a friend to build a new house. Glenn Archer's selfless demeanor and underlying courage exhibit the best virtues of religious faith.

All these things make me think that God is at the footy already. I guess there's no harm in making the link official by holding the now ubiquitous Christian rock concert (after all God seems to speak now more through guitar amps and drums than sermons in 2007.) But I hope that we Christians don't start thinking that we are bringing God to the footy, a place where he has never been present. To do so would be to dishonor both God and The Game.

Oh and one other thing . . . God might be at the footy but after years of hardship I can safely confirm that he lives interstate and definitely does not barrack for Collingwood.'