Discipleship, Community, and Running

This post is especially dedicated to my runner friends. So I'm back home in CT, and I was taking a walk with my dad through the woods around a lake near my house, and it made me think of my high school years when I used to run through the Eastern CT woods every day. I was thinking about the Griswold High School cross country team, an epic story in our own minds (our shirts said "GXC: The Tradition Continues"). I miss my running years a lot, but I know that season of my life had a profound effect on the rest of it beyond, and it will continue influence me.

I remember writing a short piece on running and Christianity when I was in high school. I don't have it anymore unfortunately, but here's an extension of it nonetheless. Many are aware of the running metaphor of "running the race" because the NT writers use it a few times. The Christian walk (or in this case, run) is a journey to a goal, and we are called to drop our weights, to press on and strive toward that goal without stopping. This is an encouragement when we face distractions or trials - the metaphor of a race moves us to keep going and keep our eyes on the goal rather than our pain or the big hill in front of us.

I had a couple more thoughts along the lines of this metaphor. How does one begin running the race? And is there support or are we running alone? As the woods made me nostalgic about my years of running, I remembered two aspects of running that help me to understand the Christian race I'm on. The first has to do with beginning to run - or the call to join the team. There are two kinds of recruitment strategies - one says "Hey running is fun, and if you join the team, you're going to have a great time." And the other one says "Are you sure you have what it takes to run for this team?" My coach recruited with the latter approach. He said "Run for me and you'll feel more pain than you've ever felt before!" As a result we only had seven runners - enough to make a team. But all of us took what we did very seriously, and our team was one of the most meaningful and memorable experiences of my life.

The call to run cross country at Griswold High School was like the call to Christian discipleship. We have many messages telling us that Christianity will make us healthy, wealthy, and wise, but that's not the gospel that Jesus preached. Jesus said "If anyone wishes to follow me, he must take up his cross and die to himself." True discipleship is not easy. To follow Jesus is to follow Jesus to the cross where he was crucified. But it is only in the cross where we find resurrection. And in the same way that cross country gave me some of the most life and excitement of anything I've done, a cruciform life in pursuit of Christ brings abundant life in the present that ultimately ends in eternal life. A life seeking the kingdom of God gives much more life than the passing pleasures of this life.

The other thing I remembered about cross country in high school is the community I was a part of. Although there is an individual aspect to running, the team was what made it fulfilling. My closest relationships were with my teammates. And although we took our goals, our training, and our races seriously, we didn't take ourselves seriously. We were a goofy bunch. We loved being around each other. And our shared mission unified us. And our unity was one of the greatest strengths in our mission. When one of us felt like throwing in the towel during a race, we would keep going because we didn't want to let our team down.

This made me think of the importance for community in the Christian walk. We don't run our race as individuals, we run it as a team. We have a mission of being the agents of Christ's kingdom of justice, peace, and wholeness, and our unity enhances that mission. Christ said that the world will know us by the love that we have for one another. And in the same way that runners have to practice together constantly to be successful in a race, we need to fellowship, worship, and serve each other to be successful in our mission. When we're struggling, we're lifted up by our brothers and sisters, and when they're struggling, we lift them up.

All these memories and writing about this makes me want to run again. I think I might eventually (or at least more than once every 2 months, which is my rate right now). Nonetheless, it's good to see how the regular activities of life are pictures of our greatest goal in life.

A Poem: O Israel When You Were Waiting

I wrote a poem about advent:

O Israel, when you were waiting,
Sitting by the rivers of Babylon,
Quivering, sad, along the shore,
Singing your songs no more than a memory,
Were the promises you were clinging to.

O Israel, what did you long for?
How did your heart pour out petitions,
To a silent God in the lights and noise,
Of idol roars those nights you cried,
Waiting for the Lord to hear.

O Israel, lo, did you listen?
On a silent night in David's city,
A stall was fitting for a child born,
To be exiled and torn and then on a cross,
Suffering the loss to bring you and all people home.

O Israel, what do we long for?
How do we wait when we have what we want,
All we anticipate is a replacement,
Of that which is satiating our hearts,
Leaving them starved of the hope that looks for you.

O Israel, while we are waiting,
In a Babylon of opulence,
Let your hope inform our memory,
Tell your stories now and sing us your songs,
Teach us to long for our Savior who has come.

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

In light of my last post on remembering Israel's advent season, I thought that the Christmas hymn "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" captures the idea of Israel's waiting for a Messiah. Here are the first and last verses:

O come, O come, Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Desire of nations, bind
In one the hearts of all mankind;
Bid Thou our sad divisions cease,
And be Thyself our King of Peace.

Here's a video with a rendition of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" by Sufjan Stevens:

Israel's Advent Season

In our advent season it is good to consider the advent "season" of Israel, awaiting their Messiah. I read Isaiah 40 today, and was struck by the difference we see between our twenty-first century experience in December and the experience of God's people before Christ came. In our culture of increased consumerism and stress around Christmas time, remembering our story can help us put things in perspective.

Isaiah 40

1"Comfort, O comfort My people," says your God.
2"Speak kindly to Jerusalem;
And call out to her, that her warfare has ended,
That her iniquity has been removed,
That she has received of the LORD'S hand
Double for all her sins."
3A voice is calling,
"Clear the way for the LORD in the wilderness;
Make smooth in the desert a highway for our God.
4"Let every valley be lifted up,
And every mountain and hill be made low;
And let the rough ground become a plain,
And the rugged terrain a broad valley;
5Then the glory of the LORD will be revealed,
And all flesh will see it together;
For the mouth of the LORD has spoken."

Isaiah communicates the tender words from the Lord, "Comfort, O comfort my people." Why is he saying this? The people of Israel were in exile after a long history of expectation and disappointment. Since God's first promise of blessing to Abraham, Israel hoped to be in a land where they could be in God's presence and be free to worship. And although the Lord delivered them from oppression, slavery, and attacks from their enemies, they continued to rebel, and never completely entered into the promises. Isaiah writes during the time of the Babylonian exile, when it seemed like all hope was lost. There was no singing by the rivers of Babylon - how could they sing the Lord's song in a foreign land?

When we consider Israel's "advent season" we realize that they longed for the Messiah with their very lives. They had nothing except hope in promises that were made before they were even born. Americans, however, have everything except true hope. We have security, we are in our homeland, we have food and water, we have jobs and education, and we have political freedom. We are satisfied, and do not long for anything. So let's acknowledge that when we remember the coming of the Messiah, it's from a different lifestyle than Israel during the exile.

But when we remember our story, we remember that the things of this world are fleeting. Is.40:8 says, "The grass withers, the flower fades; but the word of our God will stand forever." Israel understood that the flower fades - before they were taken into exile, they thought everything was OK. They trusted in their security, and not in the Lord. Then their flower faded.

But the Lord says in Verse 2 that Israel "has served her term, that her penalty is paid, that she has received from the Lord's hand double for all her sins." Who served that term? Christ served it on the cross. The promise is made here in Isaiah and fulfilled when God left God's glory and entered into a humble barn stable with animals. Christ served the sin of Israel, and the sin of the world, and made the promises available to everyone.

We live in a time now in which we have received the Messiah, and the Kingdom has come, but not in its entirety. We live in that "already/not yet" period. There are still many in the world who are suffering as Israel was in Babylon, and since we are part of the same body as our brothers and sisters in Christ around the world (and those suffering in our backyard), we await the second coming. On Christmas we celebrate that the Messiah has come to begin to restore the world. We take part in that restoration now, and hope for Christ to come again and deliver us completely from suffering, sin, and brokenness.

Remembering our story - remembering Israel's "advent season" - helps us appreciate Christ's coming. We can even long for Christ to deliver us from the hopelessness and superficiality of the Christmas season. We realize that all those useless presents are like the flower that fades, but the word of God will stand forever. Glory be to Jesus Christ, who has delivered us from our sin and hopelessness. Glory be to the humble child who immediately after being born, went into exile in Egypt. Glory be to the humble servant who was obedient unto death, even death on the cross. And glory be to our Lord who rose from the dead and gives us new life, and redeems the whole world from sin and death.

Theologian Jocks

I wonder which theologians in the history of the Church were athletes. As I'm studying for my Church History exam, I'm realizing that many of the theologians we read use athletic metaphors. I bet Ignatius was a runner - he was pretty bent on getting martyred, talking about wooing lions so they would eat him, and such. That kind of masochism must come from a runner. And Gregory of Nyssa used some athletic metaphors when he wrote about St. Macrina. She could bear sickness like a champ, so she would be good at a sport with a high tolerance for pain too - maybe wrestling. So I guess athletic metaphors are not only for the simple-minded. Some of the greatest theological thinkers liked to think about sports. (These are pictures of my housemates Ben and Thomas, Girard, and me standing at a bus stop on the day of our epic Church History exam. We were getting pumped).

Hollywood in the DRC

As the press is giving the DRC some more ink, celebrities are making their way into the pictures. In the past couple days I've heard that both Ben Affleck and George Clooney are speaking up about the DRC, and I think Ben Affleck is there right now. I'm encouraged that these celebrities are using their agency to bring awareness to the conflict. Celebrities have a repository of power that is best when it's tapped by important issues and crises. In a sense they have their unique role, which is directing people's eyes to what's going on. But on the other hand it seems to trivialize what is happening. On the UN News website there are pictures of George Clooney playing basketball with soldiers in the DRC. It's a fun picture, but if people remember that before they remember the millions of deaths and rapes that have happened there, then all George Clooney does is give us a good diversion. But all in all, I think it's good, and I think George Clooney is probably well-intentioned. I think what this shows is that raising awareness may or may not be healthy, depending on how it's done. Hopefully it will go in a good direction.

Obama and Racial Reconciliation

On Tuesday the United States elected their first African-American president, Barack Obama. We turned on the television at 10:30 to watch the networks track the status of the election. Obama was in the lead, which was no surprise since he had been winning in the polls. But at 11:00pm the screen suddenly read “Barack Obama – 44th President of the United States.” I didn’t believe that it was true at first. I actually wondered if they had jumped the gun. But after it remained on the screen it started to hit me that he truly was our new president.
When his presidency was announced I saw on the TV screen hundreds and thousands of African-Americans celebrating the results. I couldn’t get the thought out of my mind that “This is America. This is really America. These are the people who represent America.” This is a profound paradigm shift for Americans, and a humbling one for many. The prototypical American is no longer white. Having Obama as president is a jump (even a disorienting one since it seems like such a complete turnaround) toward a multiethnic America. It was a beautiful picture to see people whose ancestors were enslaved – enslaved! – and who did not even have voting rights 40 years ago, representing the United States. There is doubtlessly more to a president than race, but considering America’s past, this cannot go overlooked as a historic moment.
Still, this begs the question, “Does electing a black president really break down racial hierarchy in the Church?” No, it doesn’t. In fact, if we think it does, then having a black president is a detriment to the Church’s pursuit of racial reconciliation. We will think that we’ve arrived when really we have a long way to go on the journey. This is the mistake that was made after the civil rights movement. The Church, however, should be very humbled by what has happened. The United States, a country that cares very little about Jesus Christ, has elected a black president, while most of our churches are devastatingly segregated. Once again, the world is showing the Church how to be the Church. This should make Christians repulsed with themselves. At the same time, hopefully it can be a call for repentance and the start of a journey toward reconciliation. Hopefully more Christians, both white and black, will be inspired to take part in that journey.