St. Thomas Evangelical Lutheran Church
3800 East Third Street
Bloomington, Indiana 47401
(812) 332-5252
Sermon for the Fifth Sunday in Lent (March 25, 2007)
Liturgical Color: Purple
Reverend Doctor Lyle McKee
"Is Life a Race?"
We all participate in life. We also observe it.
I enjoy watching people, trying to discern what motivates, amuses, inspires, and drives people. I think I must have some French blood in me — you're aware, I suspect, that they are known for their people — watching.
Paul lets us in a bit on the kind of person he was in today's passage from his letter to the Philippians:
Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brethren, I do not consider that I have made it my own; but one thing I do, forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.
There is a certain nervous energy in Paul. He scurries from one mission congregation to another just as he does from one thought or one metaphor to another. Sometimes it's hard to get a hold on him.
At least one of my children was very much the same. He got so involved in what he was doing that he was totally oblivious to his surroundings. He did things with an intensity that was frightening and inspiring at the same time. He could be doing the most horrible of things — tearing a doll limb from limb or banging away at and breaking legos, which are meant to be used for construction — and not be aware of anything around him.
It's amazing to me that children can get involved with things that they know are wrong without apparently feeling any pangs of guilt or conscience. I remember how much energy it took just to break through that intensity. But, then again, if he thought he could get away with it, he would go right back to what he was doing.
There is something of that in all of us — not necessarily the oblivion to right and wrong, but the nervous and intense energy. Do you ever find yourself in that mode? Do you ever feel as though you're running a race but you're not sure where the finish line is?
I do. I get hyper, juiced, pumped up on something I'm doing or not doing and I lose track of purpose. All that's important is the task. It can become something along the order of a phrase my father often used: "running around like a chicken with its head cut off." It's like running a race without any sense of where it ends.
And it's frustrating once the absorption of that kind of time is over. "What did I do?" "I didn't get anything done!" "There aren't enough hours in a day."
I had a long conversation with a parishioner some time ago. He described the kind of feeling I am attempting to portray here. He had worked so much over recent months that he had no time for himself or for his relationships. His feelings included frustration, depression, meaninglessness, and little sense of hope. He had been running a sprint for too long, sleeping too little, and forgetting the important things in life. My advice is what it is to myself at such times. Slow down. Relax. Take a nap, and reflect on the things that are truly important in life.
I heard echos of Paul in what he was saying — an underlying desire to be perfect, to have a righteousness of his own rather than that based on faith in Christ. All the scurrying is, I think, done in an effort to justify our existence or to escape from a feeling that there is no justification for our existence.
And this is where I take exception to Paul's use of metaphor. He offers the analogy of a race. Is that what life is? A race? I seriously hope not. I may have long legs, but that doesn't mean I'm fast. There are many who will reach the finish line before I do and take all the prizes.
No, life is not a race. At least not a sprint, one that requires maximum effort and full intensity. If that's true, then we have all lost. We know from the experience of burn-out that our abilities to sprint through life are extremely and increasingly limited.
So what's this race business that Paul speaks of all about?
If the image is to be useful for us at all, we need to think about it as a long-distance run, a run in which we settle into a comfortable pace, paying attention to our own sense of what we can handle.
Pastors often deal with Christians who want to sprint spiritually. One pastor writes about a congregation in which there was a large group of new Christians:
"It was sometimes difficult to get those new Christians to slow down. They would make mistakes, offend people, charge ahead, when clearly the tactic to be used was discretion, tact and subtle witnessing in the faith...it was rather like runners in a race. Some of the people thought the race was a one-hundred-yard dash. So they ran all out. Then, at the end of the hundred yards, lo and behold, life continued to stretch out. "Well, maybe", they thought, "it's a 440". So they kept going. Finally they realized they were in a marathon, a long, long race, and adapted their tactics accordingly...
"The best way to minister to these newly-minted Christians was not to slow them down, but simply to stand at the edge of the track with a glass of water to give them refreshment and encouragement as they plunged ahead. Then, when they had circled the track often enough, matured in the faith sufficiently, they could begin to work on their running technique, their form and their staying power in the faith."
It's a long-distance run, this business of living the faith. It's also good to recognize the importance of one of Paul's phrases: "forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on..." We live toward the Resurrection, toward Easter in this season of Lent, by undergoing a cleansing of what lies behind.
Lent is for confession, for getting out those things that hinder us, for reflecting on the sins that bind us, so that we may be able to leave them behind. Sins of the past that continue to bother us and that leave unfinished business keep us focused on the past. In order to run this long-distance race effectively, it is essential that the lost laps and lapses of the past be put aside. Even old victories and grudges against the runners in the other lanes, all must be put out of our minds so that we may focus on the race to be run.
Our energies in Lent are spent so that Easter and the days following may be lived in the Resurrection, putting aside the past, in the new life that comes from the forgiveness of sins and the cleansing of conscience. We must be free to run that portion of the race that lies before us today.
It's as true for the Christian as it is for those facing addiction or disease. We have to take it a day at a time.
And that speaks to the goal of the race. If the goal is God's love, then we run for no reason. Lutherans are all about grace — God's love for us. And we focus on grace because it is the center of the gospel. God so loved the world that God gave the son for us so that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. There is no race implied in this fundamental good news of the bible. God loves us whether we run or not. God loves us even though we don't deserve that love. We miss the point if we run in order for God to love us.
So, why run at all? Why not relax all of the time? The answer is that the goal, while ours already, can too easily be lost. Do we really love God if we don't show it? We run out of thanksgiving and we run so that we might not lose the prize that is already ours. As Paul puts it, "not having a righteousness of my own, based on law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith."
And so, Paul's point. Keep the faith. Live lives that are pleasing to God out of gratitude for all that God has given us —life and salvation. The pressure is off. The prize comes at the beginning, not at the end. Being a workaholic does not increase the reward. In fact, it ignores it. The prize is assured. And so, concentrate on the race, on serving and pleasing God, and on bearing the fruits of faith.
It is pointless to seek the adoration of people or perfection or some future reward. The only prize worth having is ours for the living — the gracious love of God. Amen.
May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts
and minds through faith in Christ Jesus our Lord unto eternal
life. Amen.
