“Why Hang In There?”
Legend has it that, in 490 BCE, an army from Persia landed on the plain of Marathon, about twenty-five miles from Athens, with the intention of capturing and enslaving that city. The Athenians prepared for a battle that would determine the course of history for centuries to come. A victory for the powerful Persian Empire could destroy the independence of the Greek city-states and effectively end Greek civilization and culture. While the massive Persian army landed, the Athenians sent a messenger named Philippides to Sparta to enlist the aid of the Spartans in the upcoming battle. This runner covered the distance of about 150 miles in less than two days, a remarkable accomplishment by any standard.
Back at Marathon, however, the decision was made not to wait for the Spartans. The Athenian army fell upon the vastly larger Persian forces while they were still preparing for battle and, against great odds, the Greeks prevailed. Some writers of Greek history claim that, when the battle was won, a runner was dispatched to Athens, twenty-five miles away, to carry the news of the great Greek victory to the citizenry. According to legend, when he reached the city, the runner gasped, "Rejoice, we conquer," and fell to the ground dead. Both his achievement and his personal sacrifice are still honored today in the running of the marathon in the Olympic Games.
The writer of Hebrews uses the analogy of running a race to talk about the challenge of being a Christian in today’s world. In doing so, he acknowledges that the task that lies before us is not an easy one. In fact, he spends most of the eleventh chapter of Hebrews listing the faithful that have preceded us in this effort and revealing both the effort… and the price paid for that effort by those who have gone before us. He holds these people up as a testament to their faith… for it was their faith that sustained them, even when the victory was not assured in this life. “We are surrounded,” he claims, “by this great cloud of witnesses”… by those who have gone before us… who have shown us how to run the race. Look at the ones listed just in our reading today… from those who conquered kingdoms through their faith in God… though that faith was tested before the final victory… to those who died excruciatingly painful deaths because of their faith. They may not have gained what was promised in this life, but they still attained the prize even if… by the standards of this world… they lost everything in doing so.
The marathon is a lonely race. Unlike the shorter sprints, much of the marathon is run a long way away from the cheering crowds. There are long stretches of road when no one is watching… when it is sometimes hard to keep running… to stay on the course and to keep moving forward… long stretches of road when muscles are screaming and lungs are burning… where a wrongly-placed foot or a stumble can cause a runner to doubt the wisdom of his actions… and examine the futility of continuing. Even the training regimen for the marathon is not easy. My friend, Walter, ran five miles every day and fifteen miles every weekend to prepare for running a marathon. That adds up to hours and hours of time running alone… with no one to cheer him on… with no one to hold him accountable for how he spent that time. Why hang in there?
Our life as Christians is often the same way. There are long periods of time when no one sees what we are doing… when no one holds us accountable for the things that we do… when no one seems to care at all whether we live a Christian life. There are times when we can stop where we are… look around… see no one we know… realize that we do not have to do what we think we should do as Christians… and that there is no one who will hold us accountable. At times like that, why hang in there?
Our text gives us several reasons why. According to our text, even in the loneliest of times, we are never alone, for we are surrounded by this great cloud of witnesses. These are the former champions of the race who watch how we run the race with great interest. Even when nobody else is watching, they are there on the sidelines. And they are not the bored bystanders in the stadium who come to watch because they have nothing better to do with their time. These are the “Hall of Famers” who have lived the sport and for whom the race is everything. They come because they know that the race is important… and because they know that the future of the race and its prize depend upon those who are running the race now… not those who ran it before. And so they come…not just to see the outcome, but to cheer on the runners… not just when they are running inside the stadium, but all those long, lonely miles that they run when no one else is watching.
So, all the saints who have gone before you… from the Patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob… to the Apostles Peter, Stephen and Paul… to the Reformers Jan Hus, Martin Luther, and John Knox… to the saints Joan of Arc, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Pope John Paul II, and Mother Theresa… all those who have gone before you are watching you run the race. And they are watching all the time… not just when you are in church, or distributing school supplies to needy kids, or helping a disabled, elderly woman move, but all the time. Are you running a race worth watching? Would you run it differently if you could see them all watching you?
But they are watching not to criticize and condemn… for they, themselves, know how hard it is to run this race. They watch to encourage you and to cheer you on. When you stumble and, sometimes, fall, these are the ones whose stories give you the courage to get up again and re-enter the race.
“Chariots of Fire” is a British film released in 1981 that was nominated for seven Academy Awards and won four, including Best Picture. It is the true story of British athletes preparing for, and competing in, the 1924 Summer Olympics. The key figures in this picture are Eric Liddell, played by Ian Charleson, and Harold Abrahams, played by Ben Cross. They are two students at Cambridge University who, for very different reasons, are vying for positions on the British track team in the 1924 Olympics. Their respective approaches to both victory and defeat reveal much about each man's character, both individually and in relation to one another.
Abrahams is a headstrong, grudging fellow who is sensitive to the anti-Semitism in his environment and who hones his considerable skills… more athletic in his case than academic … in a self-styled campaign to prove the glory of his Jewish heritage to an unsympathetic crowd. Eric Liddell, the “Flying Scotsman”, on the other hand, sees running as a way of glorifying God. When Eric's sister Jenny criticizes him, claiming that he is too busy running to concern himself with God or with their work on the mission field in China, Eric tells her: "I believe that God made me for a purpose... but He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure." How many of us can actually feel God’s pleasure in what we do?
Early in the movie, Eric Liddell is knocked to the ground in the first few steps of a 400-meter duel, but he gets to his feet and takes off after the leaders of the race who are now a good twenty meters ahead. He not only manages to make up the deficit, he wins the race. This brief vignette is based on a real event, and the achievement of the real Eric Liddell was even more impressive, for he had already won two other races that same day… the 100-yard dash in 10.4 seconds and the 220 meter race in 22.6 seconds. No one would have faulted him for dropping out of the race once he was knocked to the ground. He could have taken his two other victories and gone home satisfied with what he had done. But he did not stop examine his injuries or to complain about the unfairness of what had happened to him. He got to his feet again and continued to run the race well… not just well enough to complete it, but well enough to win it.
How often are we content with letting others run the race while we stand on the sidelines? How often do we stumble badly in our Christian walk and then sit back and use that misstep as an excuse to not continue to run the race?
It is not just that all the saints who have preceded us stand on the sidelines to watch us run. It is not just that all the heroes of Christianity are present, cheering us on. It is that Jesus Christ himself is running the race with us. The writer of Hebrews tells us that Jesus is the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. He is the one that we follow. As the pioneer of our faith, he is ahead of us, blazing a trail through the wilderness… a trail that we can follow. Even in the darkest of nights, we can see the reflective tape on his running attire… the flash of it on his shoes as he runs ahead of us. As the perfecter of our faith, Jesus is there with us… coaching us as we run… molding us and shaping us to be all that we can be… encouraging us to put forth our best effort. Any illusion we have that we are alone in this race at any time is just that… an illusion.
The writer of Hebrews tells us to lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely and run the race. No excuses. Just do it. He does not name the weights nor the sin that clings to us. He knows that we all have weights… that we all carry burdens that make running the race a difficult thing… burdens that distract us… burdens that cause us to stumble. He knows that each of us has sin that clings…that wraps around our legs like the long, sticky tentacles of a jelly fish… grabbing us… holding us back… dragging us down. It is Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith who can free us from these things. Like the seasoned pro who can help us empty our pockets and get rid of all the unnecessary things we do not need for this race, Jesus helps us to see what is truly important and to lighten the load we carry so that we can concentrate on the race itself.
Eric Liddell, “The Flying Scotsman,” never ran in the 100 meter race, his best event, in the 1924 Olympic Games. He was a committed Christian and refused to race on Sunday… which was when one of the qualifying heats was run. Despite pressure to run from the Prince of Wales and the British Olympic Committee, he withdrew from the race. Instead, he entered the 400 meter race, an event in which he had not experienced as much success. When the day of 400 meter race came and Eric Liddell went to the starting blocks, an unknown man slipped a piece of paper in his hand with a quotation from 1 Samuel 2:30, "Those who honor Me I will honor." Eric Liddell not only won the race but broke the existing world record with a time of 47.6 seconds. The following year, Eric Liddell traveled to China where he spent the rest of his life in service to God. He died of a brain tumor in February of 1945 and is entombed in the Mausoleum of Martyrs in Shijiazhuang, China.
It was a long time before Great Britain produced another champion in the 100 meter race. Fifty-six years after the 1924 Paris Olympics, the Scotsman Allan Wells won the 100 metre dash at the 1980 Moscow Olympics. When asked after the victory if he had been inspired by Harold Abrahams, the last 100 meter Olympic winner from Great Britain, he replied, “No, this one was for Eric Liddell."
Why hang in there? Because the ones who have gone before you are watching you run the race… and know that the future of the race and its prize depend on you. Why hang in there? Because Jesus, who is the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, is running with you… blazing a trail for you… and showing you how to run the race, as he has shown every one of the faithful who have gone before you. Why hang in there? Because there is a prize to be gained… the joy of eternal life with our Savior, seated in glory at the right hand of God. You are not alone… ever… in this race. So, pick yourself up… tighten the laces on your shoes… and get back in the race. No excuses. Just do it. Amen.