God doesn’t ask for more than we can do
Hebrews 11.29 - 12.2
by Thomas Arth 

Every year in Boston they run a marathon. One of the oldest races in North America. Thousands of runners line up to run through the city street. In the papers they run pictures and stories of previous runners, record holders, stories of races past. Well, in the Bible there’s a marathon. It describes a cloud of champions watching the race. It tells the runners to get ready. This is the Christian Marathon.

Guess what? Your Christian life is like a marathon. You are running a race called “faith.” It’s no sprint that’s over and done in 10 seconds, we’re in it for the long haul. We’re given our number and sent to the starting line at our Baptism and the race is on. It continues through Sunday School, sometimes a little tedious, sometimes we’d rather be someplace else. It continues as a youngster squirming in the pew, unable to keep quiet through a long sermon where you only understand bits and pieces anyway. At times you get a second wind. Maybe when you were involved in youth group programs you made some friendships for life, maybe even found a partner for life. At times you discover that this race isn’t all an uphill climb. Sometimes the wind is at your back too. The race can seem effortless as we jog along without any trouble. The grace, hope, and peace that we hear about in the church seem so real at those times. The happy couple get married, the newborn gets baptized, your children make you so proud, the doctor gives you a clean bill of health. It’s easy to run this race, easy to have faith.

At other times we get bogged down, we feel pressed down, it’s hard to keep going. Doubts assail us and we may wonder if God is true at all. This race called “faith” calls for honesty, truth, and fairness but the message you hear around you calls for whatever it takes to get ahead, whatever it takes to get on top and stay on top. The wind that was at your back can change direction and blow in your face. All of a sudden a mother’s heart isn’t so strong and the one who spent a lifetime giving care needs care. The job that put a second car in the driveway and Tommy Hilfiger and Hugo Boss in the closet gets downsized. It can be hard to keep pace in the race called “faith.” There can be times of doubt too. But that’s what we’re in, a race called faith. Our life is a marathon and the finish line is a long way off.

Remember Jesus. He ran the race of faith. From Baptism to the cross, see him go! He showed us what it’s like to run the race. Many of us know the stories from our childhood. If not then it’s time to pick up your Bible for a refresher. As Jesus came up out of the water at his Baptism, the Spirit of God descended on him and the voice of God said “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” After his Baptism he was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. Once his ministry began and he showed up in his hometown at his home church he was nearly thrown from a cliff because they didn’t want to hear what he was telling them. Most of the religious authorities wanted him silenced, or worse. His best friends betrayed him or deserted him. Finally he was executed on trumped up charges. When he was nailed up there with arms outstretched he cried “Finished!” The race was run. The race of faith, in communion with God, was endured ‘til his death. This was the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. Remember Jesus. Watch him go. Keep your eyes on him, the one who both began and finished this race we’re in. He ran the race, set the pace, and established the mark for all that would follow to strive for.

Well, if we’re going to race after Jesus, we’re going to have to strip down. Got to shake off sins that weigh us down. Got to get lean! You might say that you’re not in the same league, the same class that the Son of God is. Well I won’t argue with that. But the Lord is asking that you run the race. A runner once said, “anyone can be a marathon runner, if you give your life to it.” It’s a race that asks for commitment, a race that requires endurance. To have that kind of endurance you need to be fit. I guarantee you that if you watched the Olympics or the World Track & Field Championships you didn’t see any fat marathon runners. The distance runners aren’t muscular either, they’re lean, trim, fit. They don’t need any excess baggage to carry around in their race. To endure in the race called “faith” we need to get fit. The baggage that holds us back in our race is sin. Lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely. Easier said than done? Virtually impossible I’d say. We’re bogged down by a selfishness that’s so hard to overcome. It’s like we’re programmed to look out for numero uno and the heck with the rest. So how is it overcome? Martin Luther coined a famous phrase “simul iustus et peccator” which means we’re simultaneously righteous and sinful. He said that “forgiveness is needed constantly, for although God’s grace has been won by Christ, and holiness has been wrought by the Holy Spirit through God’s Word in the unity of the Christian church, yet because we are encumbered with our flesh we are never without sin.” But the Christian life is the living out of faith in the God who makes the ungodly righteous. Our fitness to run the race only comes through the Holy Spirit. It’s from repentance, being turned back to God that we put off sin. Repentance is part of our Baptism. If you remember your catechism from Confirmation days it says that baptizing with water signifies that the old person in us with all sins and evil desires is to be drowned through daily sorrow for sin and repentance, and that daily a new person is to come forth and rise up to live before God in righteousness and purity forever.” So, in this race we have to strip off the sins that hold us back. That’s part of our training. We need to get fit.

But look! We’re not alone. The stands are filled with runners from the past. A cloud of witnesses who have run the race of faith. They don’t look like much. There’s Jacob who tricked his blind old father and cheated his brother out of his inheritance. There are the chosen people of Israel miraculously delivered from slavery, spending the whole trip to the promised land whining and complaining. There’s Samson, a hero for God who gets taken in by a pretty girl. There’s great King David, having a man killed to get his hands on his wife. And Rahab, who’s a prostitute. These are some of the examples that we find in the Bible. Not much, but they endured. They ran. See, there are others: Saint Francis in a whirl of birds, and Dietrich Bonhoeffer writing not-very-good prison poetry up in the stands, and Martin Luther King marching and dreaming—they’re all there. And still more: your Sunday School teachers, old pastors, your grandmother who really seemed to pray without ceasing. You know that none of them were without sin. They all struggled between despair and hope, between belief and doubt, between righteousness and sin. The race of faith embraces and encompasses all of that. Faith involves a decision and a risk to respond in trust to God’s grace. Faith is a trusting response towards God as God enters into a relationship with us but we need to renew it every day. The prize in this race is not awarded for purity, but for fidelity. They all stayed with the race of faith, and endured. Though God’s chosen servants were not always moral (sin is chronic in us all), they were called to be faithful to the end, and so are we.

Well, we may have been dramatic. Made the race out to be some big thing. It can seem like a lot is expected of us. Most likely there’s no cross waiting for you or me. We won’t become martyrs for our faith. All we have to do is serve the Lord in a church that may not know exactly where its mission lies, in a world that may not want to receive what we have to offer. God doesn’t ask for more than we can do. So, lace up your running shoes. On your mark, . . . get set, . . . and . . . You go.