Now seems like a good time to have a serious conversation about football and religion, but first a confession: I go to church once a year – on the Sunday they sing Christmas songs.
I also have a brother, a close, loving brother who is one of the most important people in my life. He’s Jewish and a rabbi.
I’m conflicted … like many of you every time Boise State football coach Spencer Danielson opens his mouth and drops a Jesus reference.
We heard plenty of that this past season, a college football season of revival for coaches and players who seemed to take every public opportunity to remind the masses of their religious beliefs. Faith-based comments were everywhere, from weekly press conferences to post-game sermons, from Boise to Provo, from South Bend to Columbus.

Mike Prater
Danielson and many of his players openly talked about Jesus and their faith.
Deion Sanders constantly preached Christianity within his Colorado program.
BYU had a Jewish quarterback, one of the best stories of the season.
Ohio State won a national championship and claimed that a calculated faith-based foundation was the strength of its program.
Notre Dame’s quarterback, after losing to Ohio State in the title game, said: “Us and Ohio State were the two teams who praised Jesus Christ the most and I think we strengthened each other in our faiths. … I’m happy to see godly men come out on top.”
The most? I’m not sure we need a Jesus Scoreboard in football, and keeping track seems a little misguided, but this is what happens when football and religion get tangled together: Actions and opinions are all over the place.
There is no right. There is no wrong. Only beliefs and conflict, two forever constants in the world of religion.
Dan Fink is a hardcore Boise State fan – he knows all about religious conflict and has plenty of opinions. Like my brilliant brother, Fink is a dynamic Jewish community leader, a recently retired rabbi after serving Boise’s synagogue for 30 years.
Last month, Fink wrote a letter to Danielson, a letter that started on social media and ended up in The Idaho Statesman. He made a radio appearance on KBOI. The rabbi and I met that day and had a brief, wonderful conversation.
Fink’s letter went viral because sports and religion provide a great debate, the content was smart, well-written and it pushed a powerful message of empathy and hope, acceptance and tolerance.
“While I am glad that you find such beauty in your faith, I worry that those who do not share it may feel left out in subtle ways, or implicitly pressured to follow along,’’ Fink wrote to Danielson.
“When you take a knee and pray with your players – or participate in their baptisms – it is undoubtedly a powerful and intimate experience for those who share your Christian belief, but where does it leave teammates and other coaches who are Jewish or Muslim or Buddhist or atheists? How do non-Christian Broncos experience being essentially excluded from an activity that is so clearly prized – and led – by their head coach?’’
This is where the issue turns complicated, beyond complicated, like religion itself.
Rabbi Fink is absolutely correct. His letter was based on his own personal faith and opinions, so again, no right or wrong. Because his beliefs are based on centuries of religious facts, he has the right to feel like an outsider every time Danielson brings up Jesus. He also has the right not to listen to Danielson when he brings up Jesus.
Coach Danielson is also correct. Boise State is his team, his football family, and he’s allowed to lead a 150-person family as he believes.
Yes, Boise State is a public, partially state-funded university, but for those pushing separation of church and state arguments, keep in mind that courts generally rule in favor of the Spencer Danielsons of the world.
He’s allowed to talk openly about his faith. He’s allowed to provide a chaplain and chapel service for players and staff. He’s allowed to pray as he believes, even at work. He’s allowed to send faith-based messages through public channels. He’s allowed to build faith-based relationships with anyone who is willing – as long as there are no consequences for those who aren’t.
Danielson, whose salary is not funded by taxpayer dollars, begins that process the instant he meets a potential new player, coach or staff member. He makes it very clear what kind of person he is – and what kind of program he runs. He stresses the proper fit – for multiple reasons beyond religion. He constantly tells people not to join the family if they don’t like how he operates. He constantly reminds recruits that, if Boise State isn’t the proper fit, there are 130-plus other college football programs to pursue.
Danielson is so public with his beliefs, his daily way of life is obvious. Everybody sees it. Everybody knows it. Not everybody likes it, and sometimes it comes off as too much. But when he leaves a recruiting visit, everyone knows where he stands, and he lets players and their families decide their future.
Nothing is mandatory.
Everything is a choice.
The best part is, student-athletes these days have never had more choices. More power. More freedom. Boise State football, under Danielson, doesn’t lose players to the transfer portal unless, for the most part, they’re looking for more playing time.
That’s a powerful statement that tells you what’s going on inside the Broncos’ football complex: A togetherness and a brotherhood that could lead to sustainable success.
This past summer, in a Las Vegas nightclub of all places, Danielson and I had a one-on-one conversation about religion and self-awareness. I’m big on self-awareness, he’s big on religion. When I told Danielson I wasn’t religious, he nodded, said he understood, and made it clear that it wasn’t an issue.
The topic has never come up again.
Danielson continues to treat me without reservations. He gives me more access than any Boise State coach in at least 25 years. He wants me to be fair with his team. He doesn’t care what I do when I go home.
Danielson doesn’t judge – we should all do the same.
Danielson doesn’t force you to be someone you’re not – we should all do the same.
In return, beautiful people like my brother and rabbi Fink have every right to feel uncomfortable when the coach brings up Jesus in public, in the context of athletes and a game. And, again, they have every right not to listen.
Religion will always unite. Religion will always divide. Religious conflict will never vanish.
Sounds like sports.
In reality, whether we pray or not, whether we believe or not, we should all want our coaches, our brothers and sisters, our leaders, to live a respectful life of their own choosing.
Be who you are.
Be true to yourself.
That’s exactly what Danielson is doing – and that’s what should matter the most.
Mike Prater is the Bronco Nation News columnist who co-hosts Idaho Sports Talk (KTIK 95.3 FM on Monday-Friday from 3-6 p.m.) and the Boise State football postgame show (KBOI 670 AM). He is on Twitter @MikeFPrater and can be reached at mikefprater@gmail.com
Very considerate and thoughtful Mike. Really enjoyed this article. Thank you for addressing this. BJ, you should be proud of the day you received a shout out before Jesus! Thanks for your efforts. Well Done!