The group stage of the World Cup is coming to a close this week. The Holy Father has made it his intention for June that “sports be an instrument of peace, encounter, and dialogue among cultures and nations, and that they promote values such as respect, solidarity, and personal growth.” As a recovering athlete and someone who enjoys winning far more than he should, the Pope’s words have stirred an old question in my imagination: Does God care about who wins a game?

It may seem trivial to ask, or perhaps even a little pagan. God certainly has matters of far greater importance to occupy His attention than a sports match. Even if God did have a preference, surely that must be unfair to the players. It hardly seems proper to imagine God having a preference.

There is something almost Hellenic about the question. Surely our God is above the petty partiality that fills the pages of the Iliad and the Odyssey, each god championing his favourite hero. Almost certainly. Yet the question is slightly more involved than it first appears.

Far from having too much else to focus on, St Thomas Aquinas specifies that “all things are subject to divine providence, not only in general but even in their own individual selves.” Nothing, however small, escapes divine attention or divine causation. This naturally follows from the fact that God is the source of all being continuously. Anything that exists does so only because God chooses, at every moment, for it to exist. Hence, He must be aware of every detail, however trivial.

With that said, Aquinas would also clarify that God ordinarily works through secondary causes to accomplish His will. The better-trained team, the healthier team, the team that executes best, generally wins because those causes produce that result. Far from interfering with the players, divine providence is what makes their freedom to play possible in the first place.

There is, however, another difficulty. God does not love as we do. Human beings become attached to one side because it is ours. We favour our nation, our city, our alma mater, or our family. God’s love is not tribal. He loves each player on the pitch more perfectly than any supporter in the stands. If He has a concern for the match, it cannot arise from the sort of partiality that drives rival fans.

In His providence, God knows the outcome of every game, and He can use both our victories and our defeats to accomplish His will and for our benefit. Victory can teach gratitude, magnanimity, and a proper appreciation for excellence. Defeat, however, may be an even greater teacher. A painful loss can be an opportunity for humility, perseverance, resilience, and a healthy detachment from worldly success. Games are more than just recreation; they are times of vulnerability where weakness can be exposed. In this respect, they mirror the Christian life. Growth in holiness rarely comes through uninterrupted success. More often, it is through setbacks, frustrations, and disappointments that our character is refined and our dependence upon God deepened.

St John Bosco famously encouraged his boys: “Run, jump, play, do anything you like, but do not sin.” The point was not that games are unimportant. Quite the opposite. Games matter because they reveal character. A football match can expose pride, selfishness, dishonesty, or resentment just as easily as it can cultivate perseverance, teamwork, generosity, and courage. Christ may not be displeased by a final score, but He certainly will be by a spiteful or dishonest player.

Sport is not trivial. St Paul uses athletics as an image of the spiritual life: “Do you not know that in a race all the runners compete, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it” (1 Cor 9:24). Games are an opportunity to use our God-given nature to glorify Him and to grow in holiness. God may care less about the score than we do, but He certainly cares about what the score does to us.

I still hold out a little hope that God is rooting for my team. Best of luck to you all, and go Team USA!

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