Remember that lesson from the Bible about avoiding the appearance of evil? If you missed it, its source is right there in the New Testament, in 1 Thessalonians 5:22. And while some say that interpretation of the scripture could be a slight mistranslation, it rarely has stopped folks who thought they were passing along the virtuous word from … passing it.
Maybe that’s why it would have been a good idea for BYU not to have paraded — or enabled the parading of — Conor McGregor around the Marriott Center in January at a basketball game. The famous — no, the infamous — former UFC fighter was more than just casually on hand. His name was chanted by students and he danced and pranced around on the floor, wearing a BYU cap, leading cheers for the Cougars. He sat courtside with executives from Bucked Up energy drinks, an Orem-based company that includes boosters of BYU and that also sponsors McGregor.
He took pictures on that occasion with various BYU athletes, the cheer squad, BYU football coach Kalani Sitake, among others at the game. He was celebrated, indeed toasted and treated like a celebrity.
Well. A couple of weeks back, McGregor was not treated in the same fashion. He lost his appeal in a civil sexual assault case in Dublin, where three judges dismissed grounds for appeal in the case. When the internet tabloid TMZ posted a story about the ruling, it featured a photo of McGregor wearing that BYU cap.
This is the awkward circumstance in which BYU sometimes finds itself, particularly BYU sports. The school badly wants to be seen, as the Christian saying goes, “in the world, not of the world.” It wants to be seen as a righteous cut above the rest.
Former UFC champion Conor McGregor attends an NBA game between the Utah Jazz and Milwaukee Bucks on Jan. 27 at the Delta Center. The following night, he attended a BYU basketball game in Provo and received a hero’s welcome. (Rob Gray, The Associated Press).
But like most everything and everybody else, it is of the world.
The point can be argued from many directions, but from this corner, if it wasn’t of the world, it wouldn’t be chasing what it chases, it would be using every resource strictly in heavenly causes, pouring every resource toward heavenly causes. Hoisting a national championship trophy in football or basketball or volleyball or cross country might be a thrilling, invigorating human pursuit, but it falls short of a celestial one. BYU — or its donors — wouldn’t be shelling out millions of name, image and likeness dollars to athletes in an effort to beat the other guys. Anybody think God sits up on a divine throne on a Saturday afternoon, like you and your Cougar buddies, cheering for BYU to put a whupping on those infidels from Kansas or Colorado or Iowa State?
It should be noted, there are a whole lot of people who might be considered, who might consider themselves, less than religious who would find it objectionable to honor McGregor the way he was glorified in front of the throngs at BYU on Jan. 28.
So, what’s to do with this?
There are basically two choices here. One is to scold and preach at BYU, its students, its athletes, its coaches, its administrators, for publicly saluting a man who had been found liable in the aforementioned civil suit, an appeal at that time still pending before being dismissed. The other is for BYU to come clean, to recognize and acknowledge that it is just as much of the world as it is in it, even to the point of doing some things that others who supposedly are of the world would find south of their own morality.
BYU is hesitant to acknowledge what it really is. It has its beliefs, it has its faith, it has its peculiarities, and that’s all good, or mostly good. An example: It’s one of the few schools that refuses to play games on Sunday, a refusal that is rather inconvenient at times for opponents and officials. It tries, in many cases, to live up to its faith principles. It’s not perfect, far from it, but it tries.
What it doesn’t do is come right out and say that while it attempts to be a place for saints, it’s also a place of sinners, a place for nearly everyone in between, as it should be. That could be a good thing. Humans existing with humans. What isn’t so good is that it’s also a place where an individual like McGregor can be lauded, where his fame and his infamy grants him privilege, where his being a celebrity is in and of itself a virtue. Celebrity obviously is not a virtue.
Less egregious than that is BYU’s rather terrestrial longing to win. That’s why it’s paying coaches such as Kevin Young and Sitake the millions of dollars it is paying them. It’s why AJ Dybantsa landed at BYU, why Robert Wright is there, why Ryder Lyons committed to BYU. They’re being paid — or will be paid — more money to shoot a basketball for a few months or spin a football for however long than some BYU fans will earn in a lifetime.
That’s OK. That’s the way the world works. Despite what Matthew wrote about the camel and an eye of a needle and a rich man, it is possible to be faithful and filthy rich, individually and organizationally, at the same time.
But BYU should acknowledge that that’s what it is.
Instead, Clark Gilbert, education boss of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, goes on a podcast and says stuff like, “If it ever came down to the only way to stay in this is to walk away from our values, that would be the end of athletics at BYU.” And also adds: “The church isn’t going to weigh in on dollar amounts or recruits, that’s the job of the university. But we will lay out some principles. We can never become a place where the culture is pay to play. We would undermine everything at BYU if that wins out.”
(Tyler Tate | AP) Anicet "AJ" Dybantsa Jr., the number one player in the 2025 class and BYU commit, stands with the fans during the second half of an NCAA basketball game between BYU and West Virginia Saturday, March 1, 2025, in Provo, Utah.
Top athletes, meanwhile, are being paid to play.
All right then. BYU can pay guys — coaches, assistant coaches and players — to help it beat opponents and rise to the top of the polls. It’s within the rules; it’s a way to successfully compete.
It’s also being just as much of the world as it is in it.
Everybody in and around BYU knows that’s what’s going on, but BYU officials will not forthrightly say it. Come on, push that camel straight through the eye of the needle and be as faithful as possible while doing so.
Saints and sinners, push along.
In truth, since that’s what’s supposedly sought and deified at the school, BYU does get caught up in worldly pursuits, in pride and vanity and money and competition and celebrity worship. In a kind of, hey-hey-everybody-look-at-us mode.
And that’s all right. (Minus the McGregor adoration.)
Yeah, BYU tries to be different. It tries to be faithful to its principles. It tries to win games and draw attention to itself. No problem with that. Just admit and be what you really are. Ultimately, though, as BYU chases what it chases, it’s no better than other schools, no more righteous than others. It might think itself as such, but … no. It plays good football and it might be great at basketball this coming season. But God is not a Cougar season-ticket holder; the heavens root for darn near everyone, even the Utes.
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