More Than A Slogan: Why “Jesus Won” Is Only Half The Story

I remember winning a state championship on a cold and snowy February night. The next morning, in freezing weather, I laced up my shoes, put on my winter coat, and went for a run. Just down the road, I ducked inside an unfinished parking ramp to run the ramps. Why? Because winning one state championship wasn’t enough. I wanted to keep winning.

Sports people are obsessed with winning. Scoreboards, standings, trophies—everything is designed to show who’s on top and who’s not. Athletes train day after day for the chance to be called a champion, and fans rally behind slogans that declare their team’s dominance. Winning isn’t just the goal, it’s the identity.

It’s no surprise that Christians in sports have picked up the language of winning to describe their faith. For many, “Jesus Won” feels like the ultimate victory chant—Jesus defeated sin, overcame death, and secured eternal life for those who believe in Him. What better rallying cry could there be? 

But if winning becomes our identity, we risk emptying the phrase of its meaning. It can shrink into just another slogan—true when the scoreboard favors us but hollow when it doesn’t. That’s not the heart behind “Jesus Won”, but if we don’t understand the whole story, that’s where it can drift.

The Background of “Jesus Won”

The phrase “Jesus Won” has gained traction among athletes and ministries over the last year. You’ll see it on t-shirts, wristbands, Instagram captions, and even painted on eye black during games. It resonates because it translates faith into the language of sport—clear, competitive, and victorious. For athletes who live in a world captivated by results, “Jesus Won” is a reminder that the greatest victory of all is already secured.

And the phrase deserves credit. It has helped countless athletes lift their eyes beyond the scoreboard and remember that their identity is rooted in something far greater than sport. It has given believers a simple way to witness, sparking conversations about the gospel in locker rooms, interviews, and arenas. In many ways, “Jesus Won” has been the perfect entry point.

But while “Jesus Won” is absolutely true, it’s also incomplete. It captures the headline of the gospel but not the whole story. Before Jesus ever won, He chose to lose. Not just once, but again and again, all the way to the cross.

That’s the story worth wrestling with for athletes and coaches. Because if we only celebrate the win, we risk missing the radical, upside-down path Jesus took to get there.

Jesus Won: The Half of the Story We Love

If you ask most Christian athletes what they mean by “Jesus Won,” the answers usually land on the same truths: Jesus rose from the grave, defeated death, and secured salvation for those who trust Him. And they’re right. These are the core victories of the Christian faith.

Paul puts it this way in 1 Corinthians 15:55–57:
“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

That’s the win. Death doesn’t get the last word. Sin doesn’t get to control the scoreboard. Because of Jesus, believers step onto the field of life knowing the outcome is already secure.

Or consider Colossians 2:15: “And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.” Jesus wasn’t just squeaking by with a last-second score. He completely dismantled the opponent. He stripped Satan of his power and declared His authority for all time.

For sports people, this resonates. We love the comeback story, the underdog victory, the moment when all the training and sacrifice pay off. The resurrection feels like that kind of moment. A crushing defeat followed by the ultimate reversal. The scoreboard flashes “VICTORY”. The crowd erupts. The champion is crowned.

And we should celebrate that. The truth that Jesus Won is worth shouting from the rooftops—or in our case, from the bleachers, locker rooms, and press conferences. It’s the headline of the gospel, the reason Christian athletes can compete with freedom and confidence.

But headlines don’t tell the whole story. The win we love so much is only possible because of what came before it. What came before it doesn’t look anything like a trophy ceremony. It looks like a losing streak.

Jesus Lost: The Half of the Story We Often Skip

Here’s the part we don’t often talk about. Before Jesus ever won, He lost. He lost in ways that make no sense in a world that celebrates strength, dominance, and control. Yet every loss was chosen. Every surrender was deliberate. And without them, the victory we celebrate today would never have been possible.

Loss of Comfort

In Matthew 8:20, Jesus told a would-be follower, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” He walked away from the comfort of home, stability, and security. He lived as an outsider, depending on the generosity of others for food and shelter.

Athletes know the drill when it comes to losing comfort. They have early mornings, brutal workouts, and injuries. But Jesus’ loss went deeper. He abandoned the comfort of heaven to enter a broken, hostile world.

Loss of Friends

When pressure mounted, those closest to Jesus disappeared. Judas betrayed Him with a kiss (Luke 22:48). Peter denied even knowing Him (Luke 22:61). And when soldiers came to arrest Him, “everyone deserted him and fled” (Mark 14:50).

If you’ve ever been cut from a team, benched by a coach, or abandoned by teammates you trusted, you’ve tasted a fraction of that loss. Jesus’ path to victory included loneliness and isolation.

Loss of Justice

Jesus was put on trial, not because He was guilty, but because the religious leaders feared His influence. Pilate himself admitted, “What crime has he committed?” (Mark 15:14), and yet the crowd shouted louder, demanding His crucifixion. Justice was denied, and Jesus was condemned.

Athletes know the sting of a blown call, a bad ruling, or unfair treatment. But Jesus’ trial wasn’t just unfair—it was a gross misconduct of justice that ended in His death. 

Loss of Power

At any moment, Jesus could have ended it. He told His disciples in Matthew 26:53, “Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels?” The power was His, but He chose not to use it. He laid down control to obey the will of the Father.

In sport, we’re trained to maximize every ounce of strength, speed, and skill. Jesus had unlimited power and chose to withhold it. He chose to willingly take the “L”.

Loss of Glory

Paul writes in Philippians 2:6–8 that Jesus, “being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing.” Before Jesus was born in Bethlehem, He shared the glory of heaven, the worship of angels, the full display of divinity. But He laid it down. He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant. It was a loss of glory. 

Athletes may lose glory because of scandal, injury, or time, but almost none willingly surrender it. Jesus was different. His loss of glory wasn’t taken from Him—He gave it up.

Loss of Life

Finally, Jesus lost His life. On the cross, with His last breath, He cried out, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit” (Luke 23:46). He absorbed the punishment of sin, experienced separation from the Father, and surrendered Himself to death.

This was not a symbolic loss. It was final. Painful. Real. Jesus didn’t just risk His life; He gave it away. He lost—everything.  

Taken together, these “losses” make little sense in the competitive world of sports. Athletes are trained to avoid loss at all costs. Loss means weakness. Loss means failure. Loss means you’re not good enough.

But for Jesus, loss was the game plan. Every surrender, every humiliation, every defeat was not a mistake or a detour. It was the path to victory.

And that’s the part of the story we can’t afford to ignore. Because if we only celebrate the win, we forget that Jesus shows us a completely different way: a way where losing is not the end, but the beginning of God’s greatest work. 

The Paradox of the Gospel: Losing is Winning

The gospel doesn’t fit neatly into our categories of success and failure. In fact, it turns them upside down. Jesus Himself said in Matthew 16:25, “For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it.” That’s the paradox: life through loss and victory through surrender.

For athletes and coaches, this changes the conversation. Winning is not the only measure of success. In God’s kingdom, obedience matters more than stats. Faithfulness matters more than championships. The greatest victories might come in moments the world would call losses.

But let’s be clear: losing is not the goal. Jesus didn’t call His followers to seek failure or avoid giving their best. As athletes and coaches, we should still train hard, compete to win, and strive for excellence—that’s honoring to God. The difference is that our identity isn’t tied to the outcome. Winning is a gift, not a god. Losing may be part of the journey, but it doesn’t define us. What matters most is who we become along the way.

So what might this look like for a Christian athlete or coach?

• Playing with integrity even if it costs playing time.

• Encouraging a struggling teammate instead of chasing your own spotlight.

• Accepting a bench role with humility and serving the team.

• Refusing to cut corners in training even when no one is watching.

• Praying for an injured opponent rather than celebrating their setback.

• Thanking God in victory without boasting in yourself.

• Thanking God in defeat without spiraling into despair.

• Using your platform to point to Christ, not your own stats.

• Seeing your teammates as an opportunity to show God’s love not as projects to be changed, fixed, or converted. 

• Choosing rest and Sabbath when your body and soul need it, even if culture pushes more training. 

• Coaching in a way that values players’ character as much as their performance.

“Jesus Won” is worth celebrating, but it’s only half the story. Revelation 5 gives us another fuller picture: John (the author) hears about the Lion of Judah, the mighty conqueror, but when he turns to look, he sees a Lamb who was slain. Jesus is both. As the Lion, He crushed sin and death. That side of Him resonates with athletes because everything in our sports culture reinforces strength, dominance, and victory. We love the roar of the Lion. We should because it’s true and glorious. 

But Jesus is also the Lamb. He laid down His life, surrendered His rights, and absorbed mankind’s (and your) shame, suffering, and sin. Without the Lamb, the Lion’s victory has no depth or power. And without the Lion, the Lamb’s sacrifice has no hope. We need both. For christian athletes, embracing Jesus as both Lion and Lamb keeps us from turning faith into just another slogan. It reminds us that real victory doesn’t just roar in triumph but it also bleeds, surrenders, and serves. 

So as you step into your sport this week, compete with the courage of the Lion and the humility of the Lamb. That’s a fuller story. That’s like Jesus.