Posted to Instagram on 24 September 201, Sonny Bill Williams and Ofa Tuungafasi pray.
Posted to Instagram on 24 September 201, Sonny Bill Williams and Ofa Tuungafasi pray.
It was moments after the final whistle of the breathless, bruising World Cup scrap between New Zealand and South Africa, and amid the bedlam of Yokohama's International Stadium, Ardie Savea and Cheslin Kolbe were knelt on the turf, locked in a quiet embrace.
It appeared the very picture of sporting magnanimity - rugby's equivalent of Andrew Flintoff's consoling arm around the shoulder of Brett Lee at the end of the 2005 Edgbaston Ashes Test match - and quickly went viral on social media, where the consensus was that the pair were enjoying "an emotional moment".
The truth was subtly different.
In fact, the two were deep in prayer - "giving thanks for our many blessings", as Savea later made clear on his Instagram account. Yet this version of events - when it was confirmed - barely merited a mention by the same people who had so eagerly shared the original picture.
If a moment could have been picked to sum up rugby's uneasy relationship with religion, this was probably it.
Faith has proved a divisive issue for the sport in recent months, most notably around the comments of former Australia fullback Israel Folau, who was sacked by Rugby Australia for "breach of contract" for launching a homophobic outburst on social media, based on his membership of the Assemblies of God Christian Fellowship.
Folau's ideology was thrust back into the public consciousness on Monday, when it was confirmed that he would play for Tonga's rugby league team against Great Britain on October 26.
The ripples from Folau's controversial intervention spread fast and wide, lapping on England's shore when Billy Vunipola - a vital component of Eddie Jones' Rugby World Cup squad - took to Instagram in support him.
Vunoipola suggested, people should "live their lives how God intended" and said "man was made for woman to procreate", although he was quick to stress that he does "not hate anyone".
Vunipola's comments proved an awkward test case for English rugby, and yet it underlined an essential - if occasionally inconvenient - truth: that for many of the Polynesian nations competing at this World Cup, Christian faith underpins all their work on and off the field.
"At the Rugby World Cup, about 80 per cent of what we talk about in our meetings relates back to God," said Dan Leo, the former Samoa, Wasps and London Irish forward who grew up in New Zealand, the son of a missionary.
"We incorporate our meetings with lotu, traditional Polynesian prayer gatherings, and we do spend most of our time praying, reading the bible and singing hymns."
In Leo's capacity as chief executive of Pacific Players' Welfare he spent much time debating Folau and Vunipola's views with members of the organisations.
"On our Pacific players board we had a discussion and a couple of players were really outraged by what Israel said and others were really strongly supportive and felt he was right. It was divisive among our community."
Leo points out that - for many Polynesians - the comments were especially hurtful due to the role played by fa'afafine in Samoa - people who are born male but who identify as third gender or non-binary, and who account for up to five per cent of the Samoan population, including the brother of England's Manu Tuilagi, Olotuli, who prefers to go by the name 'Julie'.
Fa'afafine defy Western sexual conventions or labels such as 'gay', but their significance in Samoan culture means Folau's remarks cut to the quick.
"A lot of us have fa'afafine in our families," Leo says. "They are really respected in our communities, they are in positions of authority, they come to church, they have positions of power in our governments, they run businesses.
"It can be difficult for us who come from cultures that have been isolated, so we are behind in terms of inclusiveness and tolerance. But many of us who know and love a fa'afafine felt that some of Israel's condemnations were personal to people we know and love and that is where the difficulty lies.
It is not clear-cut. People may think that all Pacific Islanders believe in that sort of condemnation but that is not the case.
"There are a number of lessons to be learnt from the Folau saga. Nobody can tell you what to believe, it is up to you but what you choose to express and how you express that in social media, you have to give thought to how you express it. We have to look at ways of educating people."
One Premiership Rugby insider told Telegraph Sport that the fallout from Folau and Vunipola's comments had created a huge demand for players to talk about issues with club chaplains, although the general truism around buttoned-up Brits also appears to hold true when it comes to discussions of faith.
Samoan players perform their pre-game challenge, the Siva Tau, ahead of the Rugby World Cup Pool A game between Russia and Samoa at Kumagaya Rugby Stadium. Photo / AP
"In our English culture and in Scotland, it is a bit embarrassing to talk about religion," said David Chawner, a Baptist minister and chaplain at Wasps who now runs Sport Chaplaincy UK, the organisation which provides chaplains of all denominations to a variety of professional sports clubs including the Premiership and Premier League football.
"The two subjects we avoid talking about are death and religion. We get very embarrassed when people are open about their faith. The Samoans invite the opposition guys to thank God for the privilege - that is natural to them."
Chawner is mindful that chaplains also work with gay rugby players, whose sexuality is often at odds with their religious faith.
"None of our chaplains would never condemn them because we want to stand alongside them to tell them God loves them just the same as everybody else," he says.
"It is this label 'sin' that causes all these problems and in the scriptures it says 'All have sinned', so I am in just a bad a state as anybody else."
Ultimately, faith is a source of strength to many of the rugby players stationed in Japan - and one that is likely to make them more, rather than less, tolerant.
Ben Ryan, who coached Fiji sevens team to Olympic gold in Rio three years ago, describes himself as "non-religious" but was deeply touched by his team's daily lotus, which encompassed team-meetings but were predominately Christian in tone.
"I found the guys really accepting and loving because of their faith. I never felt like they were judgemental, it was the opposite," he said. "It was funny that with sevens we all stay in the same hotel and often we would have players from other teams coming to join us in the lotus - often South Africans and other Pacific Islanders. They would never say anything about the tactics we discussed because they felt they were in God's presence."
That echoes with Savea and Kolbe's shared moment in prayer, which came just moments after they had been in pitched battle in one of world rugby's most intense rivalries. As an antidote to the divisions caused by the Folau controversy, it was refreshing.
"If 99 per cent of Pacific Islanders are Christian, I would think 99 per cent of those Christian Pacific Islanders live out their faith with love," Leo concluded.
"You are taught from a young age to love your neighbour as you would yourself. That underpins my faith and the Samoans I played with - and it would be the same for the Fijians and the Tongans. You don't use your faith to punish, you always use it as a way to bring people together."
