(This sermon was preached August 17, 2008. For a version that is easier to print, click here. The audio is available here.)
No one in the history of mankind has run 100 meters as fast as Usain Bolt did yesterday. And yet - did you see the head-on shot of his race? He looked completely relaxed.
This coming Saturday night, watch the men's marathon. Ryan Hall will run over 26 miles, averaging well under 5-minutes per mile. That's fast. Indeed, looking around, I don't think there's anyone here this morning who can run one mile that fast. Yet while making that long, sustained effort, his stride will be fluid and his face relaxed.
Are these two anomalies?
No: All good coaches teach their runners to relax.
When trying to run as fast as we can, we have a natural tendency to grimace, to tighten the mouth, the neck, the shoulders. But all that is counterproductive. All that slows you down.
In order to run fast, you must relax.
Why is this? It is actually quite logical, for two reasons.
(For a version of this devotion that is easier to print, follow this link.)
"So much of the Christian life is not learning new things but learning fundamental things in new ways."
So wrote Tom Ascol, Executive Director of Founders Ministries, in a recent blog post. Several weeks ago he was struck by lightening - yes, literally - and is still recovering.
In this country, we have a passion for the new: New electronic gadgets, new books, new ideas, new leaders. We expect progress; we anticipate that all will improve.
The anticipation of progress is less common around the world and, from a historical viewpoint, is rather recent. Now, in many ways, believing that change is possible is helpful and necessary; indeed, a belief in change is fundamental to salvation.
But our fascination with the new has a downside also: We quite easily slip into an attitude of disdain for the old. C.S. Lewis labeled this "chronological snobbery," which he defined as "the uncritical acceptance of the intellectual climate of our own age and the assumption that whatever has gone out of date is on that count discredited" (from Surprised by Joy chapter 13.)
Tom's statement is an excellent summary of the right attitude towards biblical truth. We must remind ourselves and one another again and again of the great truths of the Gospel, of the great acts of God in history, of the great aspects of His character, of the great promise of Christ's return. This is how we run the race of faith with endurance.
But reminding ourselves of these fundamental truths requires more than simply reciting a known fact. We must learn them in new ways, as Tom says. We must apply these eternal truths to the changing and challenging circumstances that overwhelm us in this life.
(This is a summary of the last sermon in the six-part series, “God Gave Pastors and Teachers,” preached on July 20, 2008. The audio is available here.)
What do you expect from a pastor?
What do you expect from an elder?
Consider this description of the perfect pastor found in various forms on the internet:
The perfect pastor works every day from 7am until midnight and is a wonderful family man. He is content with a salary of $100 a week, wears stylish clothes, drives a late-model car, buys plenty of books, and donates $100 a week to the church. He is 29 years old and has 30 years pastoral experience. He condemns sin roundly but never hurts anyone's feelings. He is enthusiastic about missions, but never encourages anyone's child to live the rest of his life overseas. He makes 5 visits daily to members' families, visits shut-ins and the hospitalized, spends all his time evangelizing the unchurched, never misses a committee meeting, and is always in his office when anyone calls. That's the perfect pastor.
People tend to have high expectations of pastors - and they are often disappointed. Some end up hopping from church to church, trying to find someone who fits their ideal. Others work hard to get rid of each inadequate pastor who comes to their church, expecting to be able to find someone better. But then after a few months or a few years, the next man proves just as disappointing. Surely God doesn't intend us to church hop, nor does He intend us to trade in our pastors for a newer model every two years. How should you handle disappointment in pastors and elders?In Sunday's sermon, I described the 1954 "Miracle Mile" between Roger Bannister and John Landy. Here is Bannister's complete description of the race, which I excerpted in the sermon. It, in turn, is taken from p. 192-194 of his book The Four-Minute Mile, originally published in 1955 but now available in a 2004 edition from Globe Pequot. Sports Illustrated published a lengthy excerpt from the book in its June 27, 1955 issue; that article, which includes this race description, is available here.
We lined up for the start. Landy was on the inside. The gun fired and Baillie of New Zealand went straight into the lead. I stayed some yards back at Landy 's shoulder until he took over the lead at the 220-yard mark. Gradually he drew away, and I lay second at the end of the first lap in 59.2 seconds. Landy 's pace was too fast for me (58.2 seconds) and I had allowed a gap of seven yards to open up. In the second lap this lead increased at one time to 15 yards. I completed the half-mile in one minute 59 seconds, so I was within a four-minute-mile schedule!
(This sermon on Hebrews 12:1-2 was preached 8/10/2008. For a version that is easier to print, click here. The audio is available here.)
You've trained for years. Day after day. Season after season. Long runs. Interval training. You're prepared.
Now the opening ceremonies are over. Your Olympic race day has arrived.
Over the course of anywhere from a few seconds to a bit over 2 hours, you must put into play all you've learned; you must put into effect all the strength work, all the cardiovascular work you've done. One mistake, one brief loss of focus, one moment of indecision could set aside years of training.
What do you need to remember as you race in order to run to win?
How will you run the race?
A number of you have run in events where place is completely irrelevant. You're not so much running AGAINST others in the race, as WITH them. Your goal is not to beat others, but to complete the distance, or to achieve a particular time.
Not so in the Olympic track events. In these races, time is almost irrelevant. Your only goal is to win the race. If you can win in a slow time - that's fine.
In order to win, you have to beat your opponents, either mentally or physically. So, particularly in events 400m or longer, every coach hammers this point into his athletes' heads: Your goal is to make the race develop in such a way that others can't catch you, or to make the race develop in such a way that those who can catch you think they can't.
A classic example of this took place 54 yars ago this week, in the 1954 Commonwealth Games "Miracle Mile." The Englishman Roger Bannister had run history's first sub-four minute mile on May 6. The Australian John Landy broke that World Record six weeks later. No one else had broken the barrier. About seven weeks after Landy's record race, the two runners met for the first and only time.
This coming Sunday we continue our series on Running the Race of Faith by considering a paradox: When running a race all out, we must relax all muscles except those that are working hard.
The video below is a great example of this. Jeremy Wariner, the favorite in the men's 400 meters in Beijing, wins last year's World Championships. Look especially at his face and neck in the head-on shot of the last 40 meters, which begins about 1 minute into the video. He is quite relaxed - yet he is running within a few 10ths of a second of the world record.
Here are key verses to consider in drawing the parallel with the race of faith: