Notes from my Knapsack 7-31-2025

Notes from my Knapsack 7-31-2025
Jeff Gill

August is a month filled with promise, and heat
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For anyone who played football in years past, there's something about the beginning of August which evokes a very particular memory.

Two-a-days.

Generally, you couldn't start two-a-days until August 1, which just added to their exquisite torture. They usually ran for two weeks, then eased back into one practice a day after school started (but the single one would last longer, a different sort of challenge). It was also the case that the heat and humidity of two-a-days tested everyone to the maximum, helping the coaches whittle down the roster simply by having some prospective players not come back on Monday of week two.

For those of us who did return, there was the battle for a starting role, or a position (or both). But that first week of two-a-days was a physical and also psychological, even spiritual challenge.

Why am I here? Is this really what I want to do? Is the short-term pain worth the long-term gain? These are questions that can rattle around inside your helmet while you run the drills, do the wind sprints, hit the blocking sled, start the full contact practices. Maybe I'm done here . . . maybe if I put my all into this next set of over-unders, the coach will notice me . . . maybe the coach hates me. Lots of questions.

Some get answered by the end of the two weeks, some never do, except inside your own head. Since you have to live there, you need to sort your own answers out. Maybe you should have been starting tackle; perhaps you could have been a running back and not a cornerback. Only one person will be starting quarterback, which gets lots of sideline conversation and debate in the stands, but there are forty or more dramatic narratives playing out inside each player. What am I doing this for, and how can I find my place on this team? And when can we stop running . . .

You may compare boot camp to two-a-days, but you are much younger when you start playing offense and defense on the gridiron, so those memories may last even longer, go deeper, at least as deep as basic training in the armed services will mark you.

My four years of football were just on this side of the divide my father never quite understood; in his day, not drinking water was a sign of strength, and if the coach whistled everyone to the fountains, it was a mark of toughness, or so they thought, for you to stand to one side and decline a spot in line. He took some convincing at the new normal, which was coaches lining us up regularly to drink up, and standing over us to make sure everyone did. The idea that it was unwise and unhealthy to drink less water on brutally hot days never quite set well with my dad.

We've learned a few things. Added a few more bars to his one bar helmet; now the concussion prevention technology makes helmets safer than the ones I wore. Football gets debated as a social presence and a youth activity; I just know when the calendar turns to August 1, I think "time for two-a-days, better go run a few laps to get ready."


Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he was a truly untalented football player. Tell him your memories of summer practices at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads or Bluesky.

Faith Works 7-25-2025

Faith Works 7-25-2025
Jeff Gill

Endorsements are a matter worth some ethical consideration
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Recently there was a notice out of the Internal Revenue Service (IRS) modifying their guidelines around political endorsements, or so some claimed.

I'm reading all this more cautiously; you don't want to hear the whole history of the Johnson Amendment, which goes back to when ol' Lyndon Baines Johnson was in the U.S. Senate, and in 1954 was part of an effort to limit how non-profits in general and churches in particular could endorse particular candidates.

It hasn't been used much, but the existence of this guideline was said to have a "chilling effect" on political speech by clergy in their pulpits.

What has changed is a court filing by the IRS, and an indication that they do not intend to apply the Johnson Amendment the same way, with the new understanding that when a preacher or church leader "in good faith speaks to its congregation, through its customary channels of communication on matters of faith in connection with religious services, concerning electoral politics viewed through the lens of religious faith" this is a conversation within the family, and something that comes under free speech.

Hmmm. Lots of wiggle room there in multiple directions.

What I'd say as a preacher over many decades is that I've never endorsed a particular candidate, or electoral option, from the pulpit. Not because I was worried about the implications for our tax-exempt status, but because it feels like it's on the wrong side of an ethical issue for me.

Let's try a different angle. It's well known that there is a general exemption for clergy around "confessions" and what we can be forced to share about what's said when a parishioner confesses a sinful act to us in our ministerial role.

Actually, it's a bit more complicated than that; some religious traditions have a "seal of the confessional" as a principle of their faith, many of us do not. Legally, if you're in the latter camp, you can't claim immunity from interrogation on the basis of a religious restriction you don't have, though I suspect law enforcement or prosecutors would go a long way around to try and avoid requiring a minister to testify about something said to them in confidence in their official role.

Yet we are all mandatory reporters; if a minister becomes aware of abuse or neglect, under Ohio law we're expected to report it. If clergy-penitent privilege applies to you, there may still be an expectation of reporting what you've observed, even if you first learned about abuse or neglect through a confessional disclosure. At a certain point, you have to consider what your ethical obligation is, and do what is right. When two rights conflict (protecting the sanctity of confession versus protecting children or dependent adults) you need to have a solid ethical framework to reason from.

Which brings me back to politics. I don't see myself ever endorsing a candidate because it simply is too far over a line of subordinating the truth claims of my faith to placing my preaching role in service of a particular office seeker. As you may have heard, politicians can disappoint you as time goes by. You may agree with them on many things, then find out later you loaned your credibility and the stature of your witness to a bent reed, a broken bough.

I have political opinions. Lots of them. They're easy to find! But not in the pulpit. I'm going to step out of that place of privilege and responsibility before I tell you what I think about the race for dog catcher.

Ethically, not legally, that's what appears to me to be the right place to stand.


Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he has so many opinions they can trip him up sometimes. Tell him yours at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack77 on Threads or Bluesky.