Here’s a question: if hockey is a religion, how do we fit God into the big leagues? I’m serious. So many fans worship hockey that the University of Montreal is launching a course on the connection between hockey and religion. A look at all the rituals, rites and vestments.

And surely it’s a logical step to ask another question. In this religion, what kind of team would God have? God the Father, that is; the guy with the big beard.

I think we can assume that God (as we’ll call Him) would centre at least a couple of lines and, being fair-minded, would count on skill rather than miracles for scoring. One line would quite naturally be the Trinity and it would be a bit of a disappointment. God the Father and the Son would be splendid players, but I have my doubts about that third man, the left winger, the one we call the Holy Ghost. Undoubtedly, he would be a slippery customer; when I peered into the New Testament, he turned up as tongues of fire or even as a dove.

He would not, I fear, be much good in the corners. That’s why the next line would be relied on for most of the scoring. This has God the F at centre once again. If you have been reading the Bible, you might think He wouldn’t be tough enough because He would be out on the ice turning the other cheek. A worthy procedure in church but not much use in hockey. Cheek turners get knocked about — God or no God.

Not a problem. No one is going to lay a finger on God the F because as a right winger He has the archangel Michael. Not only is Mike a tough cookie for a guy with wings but wherever he goes he carries a sword. Maybe even a flaming sword. And that will get you a lot of open ice even in the toughest rink.

I don’t know who God has on left wing but myself I lean to the philosopher Thomas Aquinas, a good man with words, a stout resister of temptation but not above all for his size. A veritable ox and impossible to move from in front of the net.

I like Joan of Arc for one position on defence. Not only is she tough, but she finishes all her checks and never throws a blind pass up the centre. For the other defenceman I rather favoured someone from the Apocalypse, say one of the four horsemen, such as Death. But when I looked at my picture Bible I found he appears as a skeleton, and I have doubts about his shot-blocking ability.

Goal is an open question, although I have hopes of Georges Vezina. If he’s not currently available, we may have to dip into the book of martyrs.

So there you have the bones of our team — not only brilliant players but ones with a great tradition. A track record of wandering in the wilderness, like Toronto Maple Leafs fans. A team with a written tradition: “Remember thou keep holy the Saturday night”; “blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the puck”; “blessed are the poor in spirit for they shall be relegated to standing room.”

And you may have to read between the lines of your Bible for the next one (or take it on faith) but I ask you to remember the three wise men. I like to think they were managers of cup contenders when they journeyed to Bethlehem (not much of a hockey town) at this time of year bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and season tickets. And although the New Testament didn’t capture their conversation, it’s certain they looked into the crib, nodded, and decided that in 18 years the kid would go high in the first round. For many are called but few are chosen.

And lastly, a motto to paint on the wall of God’s dressing room to inspire the team. I think I got it from the 62nd Psalm: “He is my rock and my salvation; He is my defence; I shall not be moved…”

Let’s hear it for God. IE