2 Timothy 4:6-18

October 25, 1998

"The Only Race Worth Running"

Do you sometimes get the feeling that life is just going too fast? So many things, so little time, as I often say. It's like time just flies and you have no idea where it's gone. I think we all feel that way more and more often as we get older. We're amazed by how many things have changed around us, and by how fast they have changed. Sometimes it feels like we're in a constant race, but we know longer know why we're running.

The country band Alabama once wrote a song that expressed this feeling. The song said, "I'm in a hurry to get things done; I rush and rush until life's no fun. All I have to do is live and die, but I'm in a hurry and don't know why." So many of us in our lives have fit these words: rushing and rushing, running the race as if to win the prize, but forgetting the whole time just what the point of the race is in the first place. For you see, so often we confuse the hectic distractions of everyday life with the race that God has set before us. But I am here to tell you, they are not the same thing, for in the end there is only one race worth running.

You see, there is first of all what you might call the human race, of which we are a part in more than one way. The human race is defined by progress and growth. It is measured by economic charts, statistical reports, sociological analyses. It's a consumer market in many ways, where growth is measured by numbers. Stocks and bonds, economic recession and growth--it's all part of the vocabulary of the human race. And then there is the most important word of all in the human race: speed.

That's right, the ultimate value of something rests not in the quality of it but rather in how fast you can get it. Fast food, overnight express delivery, instant e-mail messaging, fax machines--all part of the quest for speed. You only have to go to McDonalds once and sit and eat a Big Mac to realize that this is all true. I mean, if you are eating at McDonald's, then it's not the quality of the burger that you're after. If it were, then you would have gone to the restaurant down the road. No, it's the speed that matters. Who cares if its good or not--the question is, how fast can you get it to me? And then there's that sign that McDonald's used to post saying "6,000,000,000 people served" . . . and counting--all part of the reminder that we're not the only ones who are caught up in this thing called the human race.

And you know, the worst part of it all is that this human race creeps into our churches and tries to take over. You will often hear jokes among pastors of multi-point charges tell how long it takes to get from one church to the other on Sunday morning, in that short amount of time between the first and second services. There they are speeding down that windy country road at breakneck speeds just so they can get to the next service on time. I have to admit I have been in that boat more than once myself. Just another example of how this human race has found its way into our lives of worship. Speed first, ask questions later.

But that's not the only way that the human race has found its way into the church. How many of you know someone two years ago who was caught up in that search for a "Tickle-Me-Elmo?", only later to find people trying to buy them out and sell them for ten times what they paid for them--all in the spirit of Christmas, you might say. And then last year there was the "Sing-and-Snore-Ernie," a toy which my sister and I searched endlessly to find for my mom. It wasn't that we really needed it, mind you. It was just that we wanted to take part in that competition for the perfect Christmas gift. After constant searching, our conquest was compete--Ernie was found at last. One more trophy won in the running of the human race.

I find myself wondering, though--is this the same race that Paul is talking about in his letter to Timothy? Is this the same race he is talking about when he says "I have fought well. I have finished the race, and I have been faithful" ? It would seem that this could be the same race, because it has all the common elements of the human race. Paul says "I fought well," and everyone knows that you've got to put up a fight if you're going to survive in the human race. He also says "I have been faithful." So have many of us, working every day out there in the world, putting our noses against the grindstone, and giving it all we've got even if it means running the race by ourselves. Ah, but you see, that's the difference between the two races.

Paul is talking about a race in which you fight and struggle. He's talking about a race in which you have to be faithful to the terms of the race. But he's not talking about a race in which you run as if you are the only one running. That's the difference. Because if you are running the race by yourself, then where have you left Christ? For many who run the human race as if it is the end, Christ is at best sitting on the bleachers cheering them on. At worst, Christ is nowhere to be seen. That is not the race that Paul is running. Paul's race is one in which Christ is the very breath which leads the runner on.

If you watch someone like Carl Lewis--once named as the fastest man in the world--you will see that his running is steady. He has trained himself to be steady so that he can take in as much air as possible with every breath, because he knows that without that breath there is no race, no trophy, nothing--basically, without that breath there is no life. What remains is just the illusion of victory.

That's why Paul wants to make it clear that Jesus is the focus of this race he is running. For Paul, the race is more about Christ than himself. He is more concerned about how God's word has been received among the people than whether or not his average number of converts has improved statistically in the last year. He is more concerned about being faithful as a Christian than about whether or not he will be able to find the perfect Christmas gift for everyone this year. And most importantly of all, Paul has not set his eyes upon the prizes of this world. He is not focused on honor banquets or plastic trophies which say that he has won the race. No, Paul's focus is so much greater than that. Paul's focus is on the crown of righteousness. How's that for the perfect Christmas gift? It is, after all, offered in the life of the one whose birthday we honor on that day.

So why not take a moment to ask yourself which race you are running. Are you bound up in the human race, or are you running the race of faith? Or worse yet, have you come to believe that they are the same thing? Like I said, that is the danger. We are driven to run the race by ourselves so that we can claim the prize for ourselves. But again, that is not the race Paul is running, and it's not the race we are called to run.

Many people might prefer to leave out this middle section here where Paul is talking those who have worked with him. It seems to be irrelevant to some people, but I think it plays an important part here. Here Paul is making it clear that he is not running the race by himself. He writes about those who have fallen away and those who stand strong. Demas, he says, got so wrapped up in the things of the world that he left me behind. Luke is here with me, though, and Mark has been helpful to me also. Please bring him with you when you come.

"The truth be known, though, when I was first put on trial everyone deserted me." Now notice what Paul says. He says, "But the Lord stood beside me. He gave me the strength to tell his full message, so that all Gentiles would hear it. And I was kept safe from hungry lions. The Lord will always keep me from being harmed by evil, and he will bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom. Praise him forever and ever! Amen." These are not the words of a man who runs the race by himself. Nor are they the words of man who is so focused on the present that he can't see the future set before him. No, Paul is someone who is running so as to win the prize, the crown of righteousness.

Sure, he goes about his daily business that must be done, but he doesn't let his focus rest there. He is running a race set before him not by human hands, but by God. He is running a race with Christ, not with himself, for he knows that Christ alone is the fair judge, and he will give a crown of righteousness to all who run the race with him. That's why Paul gladly says, "I have fought well. I have finished the race, and I have been faithful." One translator tried to capture the meaning of Paul's word here in a different way. He wrote just one sentence which said, "There is only one race worth running." That almost says it all right there.

Finally, says Paul, "A crown will be given to me for pleasing the Lord. He judges fairly, and on the day of judgment he will give a crown to me and to everyone else who wants him to appear with power." Paul's focus is set not upon the trophies of this world, but upon the crown offered in glory. He has set himself to run the only race worth running. The question remains for us, then--what race are we running? Are we running so as to win the trophies of this world, or are eyes set upon the crown of righteousness? Take this moment to rededicate yourself to the race set before you. And as you sing the closing hymn, ponder anew the words which have always grabbed my attention, even from childhood. The words are these:

So I'll cherish the old rugged cross

till my trophies at last I lay down.

I will cling to the old rugged cross

and exchange it someday for a crown.

Note: (The Old Rugged Cross is a very well-known traditional church song; a classic, you might say.)