by Thomas Munson, The Critic
The meaning of football is intertwined with the meaning of faith
People say Naples is “Italy’s loudest city”. Having visited much of the country, I can attest. However, besides being vibrant and manic, there is a central focus — a saint-like reverence for Diego Maradona. If noisy Naples was an orchestra, he would be the conductor. Just as the Bible tells us we are made in the image of God, Naples is every bit as crazy, beautiful and misunderstood as the footballing great it idolises.
Of course, Naples is more than just pizza and football; it is home to more historic churches per square kilometre than almost any other city in Europe. Christianity has shaped the city since the first century, AD. Walk down almost any street and you will likely see Shrines to the Virgin Mary.
My time there and the ubiquitousness of Maradona made me reflect on my own religious education. Naturally, the Second Commandment, which warns against false idols, sprang to mind. Looking around Naples, I could not help but wonder whether the city had found a theological loophole — perhaps Maradona made a deal with God (his infamous World Cup goal against England was dubbed The Hand of God afterall).
Thus remains an intriguing paradox; Naples is one of Europe’s most historically religious cities, and yet it is also perhaps the city most willing to elevate a footballer into something approaching a secular saint.
The answer may lie in the different ways Catholicism and Protestantism have understood the role of images. Catholicism has a long tradition of expressing devotion through iconography. In contrast Protestantism, particularly in its lower-Anglican and Puritan forms, developed a much greater suspicion of religious imagery.
This distinction is perhaps made most obvious to us in the seventeenth century.