Reality television has a lot to answer for. People famous for being famous, people who used to be famous trying to get famous again, the theatre of humiliation as people take part in things they would never normally take part in for the promise of fame or money. Like all successful entertainment formats, these shows have a template - the individuals taking part have to be seen to be going on a ‘journey’ of some kind of growth alongside their quest to win something. There have to be moments of revelation, camera shots of stunned reactions, sad and happy tears, and allegedly emotional music. Sometimes a show uses the tried and tested format and manages to break through into something genuinely uplifting and/or significant.

Freddie Flintoff’s Field Of Dreams is a BBC fly-on-the-wall documentary/reality series following the great former England cricketer Andrew ‘Freddie’ Flintoff as he takes a group of young lads from his home town of Preston and helps them learn how to play cricket. All the lads have a very rough time in different ways - formerly homeless, or from a very tough part of the city; one is an asylum seeker from Afghanistan. They are all the sorts of boys in genuine danger of falling through the cracks in society. The first series of the show followed the story of the boys learning the game, and the refurbishing of a local cricket club for them to use. The second series, recently released, follows them on a cricket tour to India, where the game is tantamount to religion and there’s a lot to learn about other cultures and contexts. 
 

The show is genuinely one of the most heart-warming and wholesome things on television. Although it cleaves to the reality show format, it’s still evident that a real difference is being made here that will last beyond the confines of the show. The boys aren’t just learning a sport - which in and of itself is a good thing - but they are learning life skills and on the tour of India allowing themselves to experience a culture they would otherwise not have a clue about. The series adds a further layer between the lads being told about the tour of India and their departure; whilst filming a different show, Flintoff had a life-threatening car accident for which he needed a lot of surgery and a long recovery period, leaving his face permanently and visibly altered. 

An allegedly old Indian proverb has it that ‘Blessed is the man who plants trees under whose shade he will never sit’. That is what Flintoff has been doing in this show - there is little personal benefit for him in coaching and teaching these boys; but when he finds himself experiencing severe anxiety as a result of the accident and getting back into a more normal life, he finds himself being supported and helped by the boys in ways neither he nor the series producers could have expected. More than that, we see other ways the boys learn to look out for each other. Adnan is the most naturally gifted cricketer of the lot, now playing under-18 cricket for Lancashire. He’s an asylum seeker from Afghanistan, who came to the UK through people smugglers and has made his home with foster parents in Preston. He’s Muslim, and the tour takes place during Ramadan - so he’s not eating or drinking anything during sunlight hours. To make him feel less alone in this and more part of the team, the boys all decide to fast for one day with him - in 30+ degree heat, playing sport. Or there’s Josh, an autistic young man, who has been homeless and lives in Preston in sheltered accommodation. His autism means the new sights, sounds, and tastes are a real problem for him in India, but the team do a wonderful job of supporting him and helping him through. 

All of this demonstrates a lot of different things. One that struck me is that this show is moving towards a model of masculinity we desperately need more of around us. Flintoff himself was, in his earlier playing days, something of a ‘wild child’ even by his own admission. Catapulted to fame and coming into a not insignificant amount of money at quite a young age, he admits he was at times going off the rails. He’s opened up in the past about his mental health struggles with anxiety and bulimia around this time. All this leads to an evident compassion for the young men he and his fellow coach Kyle are working with in the show. These are young men ripe to be cut adrift, fed models of masculinity that are toxic and dangerous to themselves and others. With the identity that a sports team provides, the focus it brings with it on physical health and mental well-being, and the life skills it enables, something different is enabled. We find Flintoff modelling for them, and helping them learn about how to engage with their emotions in healthy ways, how to ask for help and how to support others in the same way. By the end of the second series, Flintoff is letting some of the boys take coaching sessions, and taking them into different settings - a swanky dinner with the British High Commissioner, for which the boys have suits tailor-made, the first time that many of them have worn such clothes. They’re learning to be more at home and themselves in settings into which they would never normally venture. 

This model of gathering a small group around us and spending extended time together, learning from each other and sharing much of life should feel familiar to Christians. It’s what Jesus does, of course, with his disciples - and the wider group of people who follow him around. In a Christian understanding, God’s self-revelation isn’t mainly about dramatic demonstrations of power, but rather about living alongside people. As one version of John 1:14 has it “The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighbourhood” (The Message). For humans to have some idea who God is, God had to move in - not visit incognito in the fashion of Greek gods, not play around from a distance with human affairs, nor set off a series of events and sit back to watch what transpires. It’s an intimate, close involvement in the warp and weft of human experience. 

Our version of this now is - or should be - what we call church. A group of people journeying together, learning from each other, supporting one another, holding one another, pointing each other towards Jesus. It’s less about a Sunday meeting or service  - though these help as a gathering point and an equipping station - and more about a shared life, moving into the neighbourhood, and staying there. When I was leading churches, I learned to be a little wary when I came across people who had been part of many different churches over time. There are good reasons for leaving one church and joining another. Moving house is the most obvious one, and sometimes change is needed. But many are the times I’ve seen people move on, citing a disagreement, a problem or a need to ‘grow spiritually’ … when in reality it can be part of a desire to be around something new and flashy or to avoid a difficult conversation or situation that requires time, maturity and shared grace to address. I know that temptation myself, too. The hard yards of shared life can be a lot less enticing than a slick, well-organised, professional, and usually financially well-heeled larger gathering. But it’s the former that looks much more like Jesus, asks more of us, and in the long run can give more in return. The growth these smaller communities can enable is longer-term and incremental, requiring the real stuff of vulnerability and self-giving. Freddie Flintoff and his young cricketers might just be people the church needs to start paying a bit more attention to.

Freddie Flintoff’s Field Of Dreams is available on iPlayer.