I hate running. Always have, and probably always will. I’ve never understood people who get pleasure from forcing their body into a state of flight that once meant escaping imminent danger, like a tiger chasing you or an enemy tribe pursuing your footsteps. However, in spite of my deep and abiding hatred for the activity, I recently enrolled in a class that requires a two minute warm-up run. Every day, I am faced with a choice: do I let my own desires allow me to quit, or do I persevere through the difficulty, knowing I’ll come out a better person?
The Bible is not lacking in its athletic metaphors, so it’s no surprise that the apostle Paul often circles back to such thoughts. In Galatians 5:7, Paul writes, “You were running well. Who hindered you from obeying the truth?” Some translations ask, who cut in on you and prevented you from obeying the truth? This powerful image brings to mind an Olympic runner just a short distance away from the end who suddenly loses speed, only to have another competitor cross the finish line right in front of them. What disappointment that such a good race would be for nothing! Of course, in the Olympics, a silver medal is still an honorable achievement. But how many times are we hindered by a second place mentality?
We live in a culture in which all children receive trophies for their participation, where the effort made is just as important (if not more) than the actual result, and where simply existing is considered a magnificent feat. But as quaint as these sentiments are, they don’t align with the truth of Scripture. Just being a “good person” isn’t enough. The Bible is clear that we must be disciplined in our pursuit of our faith. People don’t just become mature by default. In other words, there’s no osmosis when it comes to spiritual growth. Growth can only happen when we are intentional in our daily walk.
Most days, growth feels like an uphill battle against myself. My flesh tells me to quit because I’m uncomfortable, but my spirit tells me to press on because I was made for more than comfort. I wish I could say that I always choose the more difficult way, but the truth is, I’m a sinner just like everyone else. There are times when I choose to give up because it’s easier than perseverance. I allow myself to become complacent in my faith walk, saying that there’s always tomorrow to do the right thing. Some days, I let the doubts and the weakness in to tell me second place is a pretty good place to be.
But there is no second place with God. We are either victorious or we are not. We might give our all, but even our best is nothing compared with a holy God. He demands perfection, something nobody can give. So why press on? Why keep trying if we’re doomed from the start?
Because of Jesus.
We cannot be perfect, so he lived a perfect life on our behalf. His sacrifice paid the price of all our failings and flaws. He ran the race to the end, and he didn’t let a day go by without pursuing holiness. Not only is Jesus the ultimate victor, but he invites us to join him in that victory. Paul tells the sinner that “if [we] confess with [our] mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe that God raised him from the dead, [we] will be saved” (Romans 10:9). Victory is as simple as belief. The next step is walking daily in righteousness. I can’t be victorious with my own effort, but I can live every day as if it’s my only chance to win the gold.
And if that’s not enough to make me keep on running, I don’t know what is.