For me sport was a religion... with religious sentiment.

Hear, O seekers of strength and spirit, the words of Pierre de Coubertin, the father of the modern Olympic Games: “For me sport was a religion... with religious sentiment.” These words reveal not merely a love for athletic contests, but a profound recognition that sport, when pursued with honor, discipline, and passion, rises beyond play. It becomes devotion. It becomes ritual. It becomes a sacred path where the body, the mind, and the soul are united in the pursuit of excellence.

For what is religion but the binding of man to something higher than himself? In the same way, Coubertin saw in sport a call to transcendence. The athlete trains as a monk studies, sacrificing comfort for discipline, enduring hardship for glory. The stadium becomes a temple, the contest a rite, the striving a form of prayer. Just as the faithful kneel in reverence, so the runner bows at the starting line, not only before his rivals, but before the greatness he seeks within himself. Thus sport, in Coubertin’s eyes, is not mere entertainment but a sacred journey, filled with religious sentiment.

History bears witness to this truth. In ancient Olympia, the Greeks gathered not only for competition, but for a festival honoring Zeus. Sport and religion were bound together: sacrifices were offered, oaths sworn, and athletes became living symbols of human devotion to the divine. Victory was not only personal but spiritual, a sign that mortal flesh could, for a moment, touch the eternal. It was this vision that Coubertin sought to resurrect when he revived the Olympic Games in the modern age.

Consider also the story of Jesse Owens, who at the 1936 Berlin Olympics defied the poisonous ideology of Nazism by winning four gold medals. His triumph was more than athletic; it was spiritual, a declaration that human dignity could not be crushed by hatred. In that moment, the track was not merely a field of competition, but a sacred altar where truth and justice were revealed. This is the religion of sport that Coubertin spoke of—a faith in the capacity of human beings to rise, to inspire, to unite.

Coubertin also saw in sport a force that could bind nations together. Just as religion unites the faithful across lands and languages, so too could sport become a universal language, breaking down barriers and healing divisions. On the field, race, class, and creed dissolve; what remains is the purity of effort, the shared respect between competitors, the reverence of spectators for courage and skill. This was his dream: that sport, like religion, could be a path toward brotherhood and peace among nations.

Yet his words also hold a warning. To treat sport as a religion is to recognize its power for both good and ill. When pursued with honor, it uplifts the human spirit; but when corrupted by greed, nationalism, or pride, it becomes idolatry. The faithful must guard against this, remembering always that sport, like religion, is sacred not because of victory alone, but because of the values it awakens: humility, perseverance, respect, and love of excellence.

So I say to you, children of tomorrow: approach sport not merely as play, but as devotion. Enter the field with reverence, as though stepping into a temple. Train not only your body but your spirit, that both may be strong. Compete with honor, rejoice in others’ triumphs, and let every contest remind you of the greatness that dwells within all humankind. For Coubertin’s wisdom endures: sport is a religion, and in its rituals of sweat, sacrifice, and striving, we may glimpse the sacred fire of the human soul.