And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. -Galatians 6:9
I’m going into training for the April Bike-A-Thon our church sponsors every year. Proceeds go to send abused kids to camp, and I’m always blessed and proud to participate.
But traditionally my “participation” has meant helping out on the sidelines by providing food and water for the cyclers, until last year when I decided to get my own carcass on a bike. I started with the 25 mile course; this year I’m going for the 55 mile one. And in my exhaustion during last year’s event (yeah, exhaustion, 25 miles doesn’t seem that long until you’re in the thick of it) I noticed how my thinking shifted in direct relation to my weariness. It was interesting.
At times I wanted to just admit it’s all too hard and say “I quit.” Simple enough. Others times, I looked at the people I passed who were doing more normal things on a Saturday morning, and asked myself, “Am I nuts? Why am I suffering when everyone else is relaxing?” Then there came the temptation to re-define the race by saying, “There must be an easier way. Maybe I could take a shorter route, or let someone drive me for a few miles. I could technically say I’m still in the race, even if I’m not following the rules.”
Along with weariness came the temptations to give up, join the crowd, or re-write the terms. I resisted – barely – but as I start my training again, I realize the same temptations will hit me even harder this time. I also realize they’re hitting lots of my brothers in the ongoing, far more important race all believers run, and it’s heartbreaking to see so many succumb.
“I Quit”
Some get sick of the day by day, even moment by moment struggle with their desires. They crave porn, prostitutes, wrong relationships, whatever. They’ve read all the purity books, tried counseling, gotten prayer, but still see no results; no end to the war. They’re not sure why the lust battle has to rage so fiercely, and they’re sick of trying to figure it out. They’re even sicker of the daily riptide they have to swim against, so like defeated trainees we see in films about would-be Navy Seals, they ring the bell and quit.
“Tell Me again Why I’m Doing This ?”
Others look at the people they’re passing and, like David in Psalm 73:3, they begin envying the wicked. That’s easy to do these days, when so much of the surrounding culture looks at Christian men struggling to stay pure much like spectators at the zoo look at exotic bears. To them we’re odd, amusing, quaint, and above all, hard to relate to. After a while that gets old, as more and more voices ask us, “Why bother? It’s exhausting being in a race, and look how many of us are enjoying this lovely life by doing other things? And where’s it getting you? You’re a sweaty, miserable mess while we’re relaxed, cool, and content!” Sin is pleasurable for a season, races aren’t, so when your focus shifts from the long term to the seasonal, abandoning the race makes more and more sense.
Truth: New and Improved
Then there’s the revisionist camp, the guys who respect the race enough to stay in it, but not enough to do it right. They’re not ready to quit, but they’re ready to bend the rules. So they retain a Christian identity while chipping away at Biblical principles, conforming the truth to them rather than the reverse. Sometimes they’ll pervert the doctrine of grace by saying it covers all sin, making sin a non-issue. Other times they’ll re-interpret the Bible to accommodate themselves, an easy and rather ancient trick when you remember the serpent himself started his seduction with the classic line, “Did God really say that?” Either way, they’re opting to finish the race, but on their own terms.
And Yet —
It doesn’t have to be that way. Even the most exhausted rider needn’t say “I quit.” He can observe appropriate rest stops, slow down as needed, and keep his focus on the end goal rather than his own tiredness, remembering that he’s called to finish, not perfectly, but faithfully.
Likewise, the guy envying the non-riders is looking in the wrong direction, listening to the wrong voices. When I caught myself doing that, I re-shifted my focus to the faithful cyclers beside me, valuing their support, appreciating their commitment, and renewing my own. I also cranked up the volume on my I-pod, listening to Huey Lewis and Bruce Springsteen urge me on, rather than bystanders who couldn’t appreciate my goal. That’s the value of good fellowship and right focus, two elements of Christian living more necessary today than ever.
And when the urge to re-write the rules hits, we can all remember Paul’s once-and-for-all pronouncement: Know ye not that they which run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize? So run, that ye may obtain. –I Corinthians 9:24
A race completed outside the rules is a race not completed at all, and Christian living outside God given boundaries has little to do with real Christianity or
true living.
So a salute this morning to fellow riders, and prayer for all of us on the verge of abandoning or revising what should never be abandoned, and cannot be revised.
Let’s keep the training up even when it gets old, remembering and rejecting the alternative, never forgetting where lack of training has gotten us in the past. The Word of God, prayer, communion with like-minded brothers, and keeping our eyes on the prize, will all get us there, today and always.
And a little Springsteen never hurts.
