A huge new Cathedral of the Americas has been built down in Texas that is filled about a dozen times a year with some of the loudest and most devout people you will find anywhere.

So devout are they, in fact, that they gladly pay from $75 to $239 apiece for a seat to watch the shows in this architectural marvel.

Who makes up this rich and devout cult? They're called "Dallas Cowboys fans," and they gather faithfully in the new Cowboys Stadium, which is billed as the largest domed stadium in the world.

Built at a cost of $1,120,000,000, this spectacular facility probably will boast a new name when a corporation shells out a fortune for the "naming rights." When each show begins there, the main attraction is a group of multi-millionaires who knock each other down and throw and run with an egg-shaped object called a "football."

But, while Cowboys Stadium is the largest and most expensive sports facility, it is by no means unusual in today's United States of America. Our nation, which has been teetering on the brink of bankruptcy and a financial depression, boasts dozens (perhaps even hundreds) of these expensive gathering-places where the gods of sports are faithfully worshipped.

With followings such as the people who fill these stadiums, could it be possible this is where America's soul resides? Is this the true measure of our nation's values, the key to our national morality?

As much as I enjoy sports, I hope not. But isn't it true that we value most what we spend our money to possess?

When we're told to "put your money where your mouth is," isn't this where we put our money? If not, why do television companies pay billions of dollars every year for broadcasting rights so couch potatoes can compete vicariously in these contests?

Now I fully understand the argument that "character is built on fields of friendly strife." I agree that every young person in America should learn to compete, to try their best to win sporting events, and to do this without bearing malice toward their opponents.

I'm just not convinced this is best exemplified by competitors who earn millions of dollars every season.

Of course, the economic benefits of Cowboys Stadium are obvious. The $1.12 billion that it cost, for instance, paid the salaries of hundreds of laborers, architects, skilled technicians and so forth. Now that the stadium exists, hundreds of people are hired at every home game for tasks that vary from selling overpriced food to cavorting as Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders.

Maybe that's capitalism at its finest: A huge investment that furnishes lots of construction and then generates huge amounts for salaries, edibles, transportation, souvenirs, and all the rest.

But I much prefer sporting events at Lakeside, Tipton, Osborne, Smith Center or other nearby high schools. These athletes aren't paid a dime as they learn the lessons of competition, and a sack of popcorn only costs 50 cents.

Of course, our stadiums are much smaller, they aren't air conditioned, and rain might fall on the fans. On the other hand, you don't need binoculars to see the players from the lower-priced seats.

Don't get me wrong. I just watched quarterbacks Peyton Manning and Curt Warner duel through most of the "game of the week" until the boredom of a one-sided contest caused me to flick off the TV. I appreciate the talents of athletes who earn from $5 million to $20 million a season, whether they're worth it or not.

But, when I consider that new billion-dollar stadium in Texas (and the others nearly as grand), I can't help wondering. How many classrooms would that build, and how many teachers could be hired? How many doctors and nurses could be trained, and how many free health clinics could be offered to those who can't afford health insurance?

How many food kitchens could be opened for homeless people? Would the starving people in Darfur prefer these exciting games, or would they rather eat a square meal once or twice a week? The same questions could be asked about the homeless people in our cities, or even about the sick and unemployed people in our own state.

Somehow -- despite the entertainment value of professional sports -- they don't possess much that we can eat or take to the bank.

Does our charitable rhetoric, when compared with our true spending habits, reveal the demigods we actually worship?

Darrel Miller lives near Downs in rural Osborne County and is a retired weekly newspaper editor.