81°F
weather icon Clear

Tebow connects with faithful at Las Vegas church

The first person in line arrived with his wife and 5-year-old at 4 a.m. Saturday, more a symbolic gesture than any real concern another might have the same thoughts about showing up 12 hours early.

I can't believe the 5-year-old was all that fired up, never mind awake.

This is the level of fascination Tim Tebow holds with some, a spiritual certainty played out at Canyon Ridge Christian Church over the weekend, where thousands gathered over the course of four services to hear the Denver Broncos quarterback share his Christian beliefs and watch him teach a pastor how to "Tebow," proper kneel and all.

Once the 3,000-seat main church at the corner of Lone Mountain Road and Jones Boulevard was filled, the overflow crowd was ushered into an 1,800-seat tent to watch via video feed. A live Internet stream of Tebow on Saturday night was viewed in places such as Bangladesh and Afghanistan and Taiwan. He is that big a deal to some.

Tebow has become an immensely scrutinized and globally polarizing figure in sports, either beloved by fans who embrace his openness of faith or lambasted by critics who mock him for it, and also take shots at his throwing motion.

The latter group is as convinced his message isn't genuine as they are he will never prove to be a consistently productive NFL player.

They would have been terribly disappointed this weekend.

About the genuine part, that is.

He still hasn't proven them wrong on the other.

There were no cue cards, no prepared notes, no autographs, no interviews, no photo ops. Tebow's intent and that of the church was to protect the integrity of the service and message.

I can confirm the success of such a goal Sunday morning, given the last time security was this tight, the Praetorian Guard was protecting Roman emperors. It was more than over-the-top, but in a nice, churchly, not-sure-how-to-handle-mild-media-interest sort of way.

Our newspaper's photographer was accompanied by an escort each time she dared to depart the assigned media room, no doubt for fear she might dig an underground tunnel in hopes of snapping just one shot of No. 15.

Tebow, at least on video screen, was authentic, funny, engaging. He answered questions for 40 or so minutes from senior pastor Kevin Odor, topics winding between faith and football and the major role Christ plays in the player's life. He showed Odor how to "Tebow ." He prayed for those hoping to welcome Christ into their hearts. He brought along his Bible, which he has had since high school and is now worn with notes and speeches and memories.

"You get bashed against the rocks sometimes," Tebow said. "But when you have a relationship with Christ ... One of my favorite quotes is, 'I don't know what my future holds, but I know who holds it.' I know what my rock is. I know who's holding my future. It's easy to get hurried and too busy and distracted from your priorities. Mine are faith, family and football, in that order. When those get jumbled up, you're putting the wrong things first in life."

They talked about John 3:16 a lot, about arguably the most important of all Scripture passages in a Christian's life, about how three years to the day after Tebow changed to that verse on his eyeblack for games, he beat the Pittsburgh Steelers in the NFL playoffs while passing for 316 yards and having a 31.6 yards-per-completion average.

About how in 2009, as he was winning a national championship for the University of Florida, 94 million people Googled the passage.

They talked about the orphanages and hospitals and, yes, death row inmates he visits frequently.

"It's a passion of mine to share time with those inmates, with those who feel the world has abandoned them and no one cares about them or loves them," Tebow said. "They may die within six months or a year or whenever they're supposed to be executed, but I can still share how they can be free on the inside and that there is a God that loves them and cares about them.

"Just to shake their hand or give them a hug when I'm not supposed to, because the guards get mad, to show them someone still cares and loves them and that God forgives them and still wants a relationship with them. It's one of the coolest things I get to do."

Odor tells the story of the Tuesday following the Super Bowl last month, when Tebow brought some Denver linemen to Las Vegas and while here, met to go over details for this weekend's visit.

He asked if they could visit a local hospital, and those at Sunrise Children's were contacted. Again, no media. No interviews. No publicity.

Tebow walked from room to room, bringing smiles to the faces of little ones stricken with cancer while offering strength to their parents. Near the end of the visit, he and Odor found themselves with a mother and her 6-year-old daughter, whose surgery from a brain tumor had left her unable to speak. They all held hands as the pastor began to pray.

"And Tim says to me, 'No, I got it,' " Odor said. "He then gave the most tender prayer for this little girl. It was one of those sacred moments you never forget. It was pure and genuine and heartfelt."

Genuine. That was Tebow this weekend.

Say what you want about the throwing motion, but his message had nothing to do with seeking publicity here.

And I know a certain photographer who would have had to dig a tunnel just to prove otherwise.

Las Vegas Review-Journal sports columnist Ed Graney can be reached at egraney@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-4618. He can be heard from Noon to 3 p.m. Monday through Friday on "Gridlock," ESPN Radio 1000 AM and 98.9 FM. Follow him on Twitter: @edgraney.

Don't miss the big stories. Like us on Facebook.
THE LATEST