That precedent-setting example notwithstanding, messengers bearing good news tend to finish well. Running a marathon-like event and bearing good news to the end of one’s life—that is the ancient context for the race set before all of us today: “Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1).
It’s not how you start, or how often you check out or relapse from the faith; it’s how you finish that counts. That’s what these veterans, these heroes of the faith, are cheering about.
Otherwise, we suffer the same fate as Atlas, the one condemned by the ancient Greeks to carry the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. Today, by contrast, we volunteer to take on his ill-fated, unwanted mantle. Thus we so easily dismiss God, telling him we no longer need his help. When that mantle gets too heavy for us to sustain, when our problems exceed our scope and strength to solve, will we then admit our mistaken desire to carry this world on our own? I wonder.
If that means setting aside a time-consuming hobby or cutting back watching sports—not evil things in themselves—so be it. But such happy diversions can keep us from pursuing a deeper relationship with our God and extending a helping hand to others. So, while watching the Olympics, think about the race set before you and gauge how you want to finish.
Furthermore, it is not a sprint, but a marathon, a walk of faith that lasts a lifetime. It’s never too late to finish well. You can even limp, or use your walker and wheelchair.
cheering on every torch bearer, thus keeping that eternal flame going.
So this intergenerational, international marathon-like event is really a faith walk, one where the faith of others, those gone before us or coming after us, is added to our faith, however meager. We enter and finish this race, together as a team: “Not one of these people, even though their lives of faith were exemplary, got their hands on what was promised. God had a better plan for us: that their faith and our faith would come together to make one completed whole, their lives of faith not complete apart from ours”(Hebrews 11:39-40).
The pull and cheers of other believers keeps the flame alive, keeps us going in the race set before us, so it matters not what pace we keep, or how many times we fall, but whether we fall forward, keep the faith, and finish well.
At St. Mary’s Care Center, where I’ve been a chaplain for nine months, a certain woman became depressed. Things were not going well for her, so she moped and whined most every night. Every evening she’d eat her dinner in silence, shutting out others at her table. It was no different when her family came to visit; she’d wall them out of her life, too.
Until one evening… when her granddaughter took her little hand and pushed aside all that hinders and jumped into her grandmother's lap. The little one wrapped her arms around the old lady’s neck and hugged her fiercely, eliciting a grudging,
"Honey, you are hugging me to death!" "No, Grandma," the little girl said, "I'm hugging you to life!"
This is the greatness of Jesus; he hugs and sparks us to life. Like an Olympic torch-bearer, he is the Alpha and the Omega in a long line of runners and walkers, even cheerleaders and huggers, who assist us across that finish line.