Lent 2 – George Yandell
In 1984, I ran a 10 K race with Jim Ryan. How many of you know who Jim Ryan is? First man to run a mile in under 4 minutes. He was the hero of my generation in distance running. Jim Ryan had come to Nashville to promote the Music City 10-K; the charity was one of his favorites. When I say I ran a race with him, what I really mean is I ran in the same race as Jim Ryan. Mine I ran in 56 minutes, not too bad for an overweight guy. He ran his race in under 28 minutes, and did not win; but when he finished, he ran back along the race route, giving encouragement to those of us struggling to finish under 1 hour.
Running has never been easy for me, but I kept at it almost all my adult life until about 9 years ago. I realized early on when training for my first marathon in 1990, that runners come in all sorts and conditions. The fleet ones who run near the head of the pack in every competition just amaze me. How can they go that fast for that long? And then there are those of us who run more slowly, who don’t have that naturally fluid style. They struggle, yet keep at it. An 80-year-old man ran in the Memphis marathon of 1990; he finished behind me, but not by much. A marine corps unit had run the entire race with him, encouraging him, helping him through the hardest last miles. I learned early on as I trained at longer and longer distances that I appreciated anyone who decides to get out and “just do it”, as Nike promoted. I still feel kinship with anyone I see, running along the road. Since I no longer do so, it’s a wistful feeling.
Jesus says in the gospel, “On the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.” When Christians in American today read this passage, they come up with widely varying interpretations of its meaning. Often our brothers and sisters in Christ emphasize the part- “finish my work.” Others emphasize “it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.”
They suggest that Jesus meant to tell his original hearers, and us through them, that Jesus knew he was walking to his death. He had to confront the authorities. Others suggest that salvation necessitated his willing sacrifice. Some of us play down the whole salvation thing, because God doesn’t desire anyone be sacrificed. We believe salvation has already been settled by the death and resurrection of Jesus.
This is much the way the early Christians wrestled with the salvation question. And more often than not, those who would impose restrictions on entry into salvation life won the day. Is God really like that? Is the messianic age nothing more than new rules for an old game? A new elite supplanting an old elite, but the same reality: an elusive prize chased by many and won by few? “When the roll is called up yonder,” will the winner’s list be short?
The Christian era has proceeded along those lines. Unable to imagine that God truly was doing a new thing in Jesus, the early disciples fell back into the old hierarchies. They tightened up the membership requirements that Jesus had relaxed. They changed other rules, ousted the old players, installed themselves as God’s new chosen, and continued the familiar rituals of demanding and dispensing favors for salvation.
Jesus wanted something entirely different. When asked about score, he responded “strive.” Trying is what matters, not winning. In God’s kingdom, the last can become first, outcasts can draw near, the ancient hierarchies do not apply, grace is freely dispensed, and the skills that lead to worldly success do not count for anything special.
If the door to salvation is “narrow,” it is not because God loves only a few or because God demands perfection. It is narrow because it requires difficult choices. Anyone can make those choices.
So first of all, what is salvation, really? Frederick Buechner writes: “Salvation is an experience first and a doctrine second. Doing the work you’re best at doing and like to do best, seeing something very beautiful, weeping at somebody else’s tragedy– all these experiences are salvation because in them all two things happen: 1) You lose yourself, and, 2) you find you are more fully yourself than usual. You give up your old self-seeking self for somebody you love and thereby become yourself at last. You must die with Christ so you can be raised with him, Paul says. You do not love God and live for God so you will go to heaven. Whichever side of the grave you happen to be talking about, to love God and live for God is heaven. It is a gift, not an achievement.”
So then, what are the difficult choices that open salvation for us and for all?
1) We choose to run the race, doing the necessary training, keeping the central goal always before us. The goal: to love God, and love others as oneself.
2) We choose to be companions with all God places beside us on the way. We stay with and support those who may run more slowly, because the race is in the running, not the winning.
3) We strive to stay the course. We all fall down, we all falter. When the way gets rough and you feel left behind, ask for help, confess your shortcomings, accept God’s forgiveness, and get back in the pack.
4)We stretch our limits. Test new ways of praying, of caring, of being Christ to all you meet.
5) We choose to pause along the way and refresh ourselves. Moments of grace often come when we look back and realize how far we’ve come together. What we find is that we’ve been living in God’s domain without knowing it. We can’t claim credit, since it is God’s gift. In the striving is the winning. In the hand we give to those who need, we feel God’s own touch. That’s salvation. Thank you, Jim Ryan, for coming back along the race route to encourage us.