Years ago, I was over in Portland, and I ran down to Oregon City to see the end-of-the-Oregon-Trail museum, and one display quoted a pastor who commented on the great migration. He said that settlers heading West would start out with heavily-laden wagons, but then would jettison heavy stuff along the way, e.g., a piano somewhere along the Platte River corridor. He went on to say that, by the time they got to Oregon, many of them had cast off their hometown religious practice. And, sure enough, I've heard and read that the Pacific Northwest was long recognized as the "Unchurched Belt," as contrasted with the Bible Belt. Well, other regions, including New England, have risen (or rather, sunk) to rival that distinction enjoyed (or rather, suffered) by Washington and Oregon. And here in Moscow, Idaho, where I’m teaching this year, there are some fine, stout, churches. But the general point still stands: This ain’t Williamson Country, Tennessee, where my home church is nested amongst a host of Evangelical congregations.

So, I was a little surprised and very gratified to see a couple of dozen Washington State University Huskies run onto the field and on toward the opposite end zone, where they knelt in prayer. Moments earlier, the Texas Tech Red Raiders had done the same across the way, but they’re from Lubbock, where the faithful abound. Instead, this was Pullman, Washington. Granted, many of these players come from other parts of the country, including Raleigh, NC, Brandon, MS, Lake Charles, LA, and Cibolo, TX. But the vast majority are from this neck of the woods.

The next weekend, we attended a University of Idaho game right here in Moscow, less than two miles from our apartment. The U of I Vandals play in the Kibbie Dome, and this time around, they were meeting the Great Danes from SUNY in Albany (New York). Again, we were blessed to see players who were entering the field run to the far end zone for a time of prayer, two minutes or so. And Albany isn’t Lubbock. Still, around twenty of the Great Danes (pictured here) knelt in prayer—and not in protest to the National Anthem. What gives?! It seems to be a coordinated practice. Maybe it’s an FCA thing. Whatever, it’s awfully nice to behold.

Sometimes, when leaving a restaurant, I’ll stop by a table where the diners bowed their heads in prayer before the meal, and I’ll say a simple thank you for their example. I decided not to run down onto the field to thank those players, so I’ll just do it in writing here: “Thank you for your witness.”