Well, I missed the Super Bowl (though honestly I didn’t miss it much). I don’t really care much which side of what line some little leather ball is on, but I don’t want to rule out the possibility of interesting Bowl games altogether. What I’m thinking of is—the Omega Bowl. Is that name taken? We could call it the Alpha and Omega Bowl if we need to be more specific. But it’s not a contest between two football teams. It’s a battle of the gods. Literally.
Here’s how it works. We set up an arena. In the center of the arena, we have a large, sealed cube made of transparent plastic, airtight. Inside the cube is an inch or so of sand and a playing field, with a tripod in the center, and a heavy ball like an old-fashioned cannonball resting on top of the tripod. All around the tripod are sections of wall, with a basket about 3 feet up, sturdy enough to hold the ball. Each wall is plainly marked with the name of a god: Allah, the Trinity, Yahweh (non-Trinitarian), Krishna, etc, with a few blank walls bearing an empty sign, a brush, and a bucket of paint—any under-represented god who wants to show up and sign in can just put his/her/their name on an available empty wall, and join in the fun.
The rules are simple: all gods are invited, and the first god to move the iron ball into the basket under his/her/their own name, WITHOUT any intervention on the part of his/her/their believers, is the One True God for the entire year. Just one year, of course—we want people to come back for next year’s Omega Bowl too. And there’s one more thing: the cube is pressurized, and the pressure gauge must remain constant, i.e. no natural intervention from outside the cube. The ball can float, fly, or materialize directly in the basket, but all results must be accomplished by direct, supernatural manifestation of the ball itself, without tampering with the seal on the cube or disturbing the sand between the tripod and the basket.
Time limit is fifty-five minutes, divided into four ten-minute periods with a 5-minute intermission (stop by the snack bar!) between periods. In the event that none of the gods is able to emerge victorious, the title of One True Belief for the Year will be shared by atheism and skepticism.
How about it, believers? Anyone out there with a god big enough to go head-to-head with the competition?
Jesus is schizophrenic?
Five minutes isn’t enough time to take a piss and get a beer.
‘Tis, this game is all about tough choices.
A cube? That’s only four walls. You need at least an octagon, and you might as well start out with a circle, to avoid arguments about being too exclusive. And then, if the ball does get into the basket, how will anyone really know which god(s) did it? They’ve been contradicting each other for so long, you can’t expect that they’d set aside their conflicting claims “just for sport.”
Of course, what’s bound to happen is that you’ll just end up with competing “revelations” contributed by the different sets of fans, about how their god(s) had created the ball in the basket in the first place and why it was removed, and/or how you have to love their god(s) (and pay tithes to their priests) for the rest of your life in order to have any chance of seeing the ball in the basket after you die.
It would be a pretty dull game.
I have offered to repeat the 1 Kings 18 experiment between Elijah and the priests of Baal but with charcoal and steaks. The believer gets to be Elijah and have Yahweh light their charcoal while I will appeal to science and technology.
I don’t know if it’s a lack of faith or a dislike for steak tartare that nobody will take the challenge.
You should probably use a non-magnetic ball, to eliminate any use of magnetism.
If the ball does not move can believers still claim that it spiritually moved and you just cannot see it. Expect that or other lame excuses for their god not actually showing up. After all the visibly moving ball, would invalidate something called “free will”.
Maybe, but watching the action in the stands – supporters, fans, cheerleaders – would keep a jumbo bucket of popcorn going.