Competition as an Act of Worship

More Than a Result

Competition in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu can bring with it a lot of emotion. There is the preparation, the anticipation, the nerves, the desire to perform well and ultimately, the result.

I might lose in the first round.

I might win the competition.

I might come second, third, or somewhere in between.

But as I have matured in my faith and continued to mature in my BJJ journey, I have come to a simple conclusion: the result does not determine the value of the competition.

For me, competition has become an act of worship.

This does not mean that I do not want to win. I do. I want to prepare well, compete hard and give my very best. But winning is no longer the thing that gives competition its meaning. I believe that God has gifted me in this way, and I want to respond to His calling by using those gifts faithfully.

Using the Gifts

Everything we do can become an expression of what we value and relate to our purpose and meaning in life. Bruce Lee famously said

“To me, ultimately, martial art means honestly expressing yourself.”

I think there is something deeply relevant to that idea in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and being a disciple of Jesus. For me, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu has been one of the ways God has shaped my character, challenged me, and given me opportunities to serve others. The discipline of training, the pressure of competition, the relationships built through the academy, and the responsibility of coaching have all become part of that journey.

Competition gives me an opportunity to use the gifts God has entrusted to me. My strength, experience, technical ability, preparation and competitive desire are not things I have created entirely for myself. I have been given an opportunity to develop and steward these gifts. When I step onto the mat, I am therefore not simply trying to prove what I can do. I am responding to what God has given me, and that changes the way I see the arena. Worship is not only something we sing or say, it is also something we do. It is expressed through how we use our time, our abilities, our relationships and our opportunities.

For me, competing can be an active expression of worship.

1 Peter 4:10 reminds us that each person has received a gift and is called to use it to serve others as a faithful steward of God’s grace. The verse also offers a different perspective on competition. My ability is not something I need to boast about, nor is it something I need to be ashamed of when I fall short. It is something I have been entrusted with. That means my responsibility is not to guarantee a particular result. My responsibility is to steward the opportunity faithfully. I can prepare diligently. I can train hard. I can pursue excellence. I can compete with everything I have. And then I can leave the outcome in God’s hands.

Anchored, Not Burdened

As an academy owner, competition can carry another kind of weight. I have students watching. I represent a team that I care deeply about. There can be an expectation to perform, to lead by example and to show that the work we put in together produces results. But I have learned that I don’t need to carry that weight as though everything depends on me.

My identity is not determined by whether I win.

My students are not ultimately dependent on my result.

My academy is not defined by a medal.

I am anchored to something far greater: the Creator of the universe, who has called me into this particular moment and given me the opportunity to enter this particular arena. That changes competition from something I have to control into something I get to receive. I can prepare seriously. I can compete with intensity. I can want to win. But I don’t have to be ruled by the outcome.

1 Corinthians 10:31 says, “Whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” That is a simple statement, but it changes the question I ask myself before I compete. Instead of asking only 'Will I win?' I can ask 'How can I glorify God through the way I compete?' That can happen in preparation. It can happen in discipline. It can happen in how I treat my coaches, teammates, opponents and referees. It can happen in how I respond when things go well, and perhaps even more importantly, in how I respond when they don’t.

Glorifying God does not require me to win. It requires me to compete in a way that reflects Him. This is freeing because it separates faithfulness from the scoreboard. I can give everything I have and still lose. I can execute the game plan perfectly and still be submitted. I can have a great day or a terrible day.

As pastor and author Tim Keller famously wrote:

“Don’t let success go to your head, Failure go to your heart.”

I believe the opportunity to glorify God remains in every one of those circumstances. The result changes, but the calling does not.

Honouring My Opponent

One of the things I value most about competition is the opportunity to honour my opponent. If I truly respect the person standing across from me, then I should give them my best.

That means competing with integrity. It means preparing properly. It means refusing to take shortcuts. It means respecting the rules, the referee and the person I am competing against. My opponent is not simply an obstacle standing between me and a medal. They are another person, created by God, who has also invested time, sacrificed and made the effort to step into the arena, and I want to honour that.

There is also something deeply meaningful about being able to pray with an opponent. Sometimes that happens before the match. Sometimes, in the intensity of competition, prayer becomes something I carry internally during the match. And, where the opportunity exists, I want to pray with them afterwards as well.

The competition may be intense, but the person is always more important than the result. This is where gratitude becomes so important.

I am;

Grateful for the opportunity to compete.

Grateful for the people who have trained with me.

Grateful for my students and teammates.

Grateful for my opponents.

And ultimately, grateful to God for giving me the opportunity to step onto the mat and use the gifts He has given me. Hebrews 12:1–2 speaks about running the race set before us with perseverance, fixing our eyes on Jesus. That picture of a race is powerful for competition because it reminds me that the goal is bigger than a single event. There is a race that extends beyond one match, one tournament or one result. Competition is one part of the journey. It is easy to become consumed by the person standing across from me, the medal in front of me or the result that I want. But Hebrews reminds me to lift my eyes beyond those things and fix them on Jesus.

That changes the way I view my opponent. They are not the ultimate measure of my worth. They are not someone I need to hate in order to compete intensely. They are simply the person God has placed in front of me for this particular moment.

I can fight hard without losing sight of who I am.

I can compete intensely without losing respect.

I can want to win without making winning my identity.

And when the match is over, I can walk away grateful for the opportunity to have shared the arena with another person who was willing to put themselves through the same pressure, sacrifice and vulnerability. The race continues beyond the result.

The Opportunity Is the Gift

This September 2026, I’m heading to Las Vegas, Nevada, for the IBJJF World Masters. I want to perform well. I want to test myself against the best people I can find. But I no longer need the result to determine whether the experience was worthwhile. I could lose in the first round, come third, come second, or win the entire competition. The outcome matters, but it does not define me.

The deeper question is whether I entered the arena faithfully.

Did I give my opponent my best?

Did I compete with integrity?

And did I remain grateful for the opportunity?

For me, this is what competition has become. Not an opportunity to prove myself, but an opportunity to respond. Not a burden to carry, but a calling to embrace. Not simply a fight for a result, but an opportunity to worship. Whatever happens when I step onto the mat in a few short days, I can be grateful.

Because the opportunity itself is a gift.