April 13, 2008

Several years ago, the NBC network produced a miniseries entitled, “The First Olympics.”  The piece was well researched, well written, well acted, but poorly titled.  The account wasn’t about the first Olympics at all.  Instead of the competitions of ancient Greece, this story detailed the beginning of the modern games.  In 1896, in Athens, as the result of persistent, diplomatic negotiating and tireless fundraising, the efforts of a French industrialist, the Baron Pierre de Coubertin, came to fruition.  The spirit of excellence was made manifest once again in the lighting of the Olympic torch. 

That year, nine countries sent their best athletes to demonstrate the nobility of human striving and endurance.  The dream of Baron Coubertin was realized.  His mission was not to create a global sports conglomerate or multi-million dollar media event.  His idea was to promote world peace.  Pierre Coubertin believed that an international athletic competition which spotlighted what human beings could accomplish through focus and determination would show the world what we had in common, what all people could celebrate and honor as remarkably human.  The games ensued and the world was awed and astounded.

In retelling this story, audiences learned that in 1896 the Olympics had no credibility.  Countries did not trust the structure or motives of the organizers.  Athletes, coaches and businessmen did not see the event as prestigious.  Getting commitment was difficult.  Slowly, as athletes came around, we saw that with no infrastructure in place, no training protocols, and no standardized rules books, no guaranteed sponsorships, those who competed were left completely to their own devices.  Before dawn, the runners would be out of bed on the track, pushing themselves and their teammates to circle again and again.  Leaving a makeshift course, they’d continue to run through a town to get to a factory to put in a long day’s work before returning to the track for a night run.  Athletes in college got no excused absences.  Athletes working on their family farms still had to plow every field.  Soldier competitors still reported for duty every day and completed every task.  The training, the workouts, the focus took place in addition to their daily living.

Runners, jumpers, archers and discus throwers dedicated themselves to a vision requiring a radical shift in their lifestyle.  In saying “yes” to the Olympic ideal, they said “no” to a simpler, easier life.  In signing on to compete at this championship level, they turned their backs to free time and sleeping in, to gardening and fishing, hobbies and vacations.  They sacrificed promotions and relationships.  They sweated, bled, got up, sweated, and bled again.

One wonders why.  Why was going to their utmost limit so important to these young men?  As the retelling continues, we see the athletes grow in character, in strength and virtue.  We see them grow in self-awareness and in compassion and even in humility.  The stronger and faster they become, the more they recognize human limitations and the touch of God’s grace.  When the young teams walk into the coliseum in Athens, their hearts, and our hearts swell with pride and awe.  What marvelous things we can accomplish when we dedicate ourselves completely to a singular purpose.  How wonderfully we are made – with clear minds, strong bodies and noble hearts.  How much we can accomplish when we unite our intentions with others filled with the same passion!  Teams made the individuals stronger.  When one would lag and find weariness and doubt overtaking his mind, a friend would push him on.  Humans are made social beings for a purpose. We achieve our “greatness” when encouragers and the affirmation of those we respect surround us. 

So many human truths were offered up in this historical retelling.  Just rewards, cruel disappointments, maturing insights, political nonsense, and hard choices for living in a complicated world were all realistically presented.  An interesting side story was also offered.  There was a swimmer who had won many awards.  He signed onto the competition late in the season.  He was sure of his prowess and didn’t dedicate himself to too much vigorous training.  On the day of his trials, he was shocked when his time didn’t measure up and he failed to qualify.  Later, as the other athletes from his homeland discussed his “disgrace,” one remarked, “He liked the idea of being an Olympian.  The idea comes easy.”

“He liked the idea, the idea comes easy.”  I so get this concept!  I have a beautiful silver flute in my attic that attests to my love for the idea of being a flautist!  I have Italian vocabulary cards under my bed, signifying my love for the idea of being fluent.  I’ve got potting soil and three-year-old vegetable seeds in my garage under a tool chest.  I get the idea of “the idea.”  I suspect I’m not the only one.  What’s in your attic?  How much did you pay for that gourmet cookware that’s still in the box set?  Have you been swinging those Titanium clubs hours every day? 

Loving the idea of excellence, of dedication to a good endeavor or noble purpose is pretty universal.  Lots of us like the idea of walking into a stadium following our flag, wearing our country’s colors.  Lots of us like the idea of moving the fastest through the water, across the air, down the court.  Lots of us like the idea of standing on the podium receiving a medal.  But how many of us are up and running at 4am?  How many of us say “no” to dinner with friends or watching a movie, or doing laundry in order to lift weights for three hours, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday? 

Attraction to the idea rather than the work is even common in our faith life.  Many, many of us like the concept of being a Christian much more than the training and practice and sacrifice required to actually live the life of a Christian. 

We have warm, positive feelings about following the message of love and compassion and fair justice for all that Jesus articulated, but organizing our entire lives to put his plan into daily action is really incredibly daunting!  To actually be a Christian is very much like being an Olympic athlete.  We have to work out every day.  We don’t get to sleep in or put other good goals and projects first.  To be a Christian takes singular focus, strong spiritual muscles, commitment to a very elevated level.  To be a Christian, one has to pray every day and not for just 7 minutes.  To be a Christian, one has to read some part of the Bible every day.  Before your head touches the pillow at night, a Christian can name at least one thing they did to make another person’s life easier that day.  Before the light goes out, a Christian remembers to thank God for at least the top 10 blessings of his or her life.  A Christian looks over their lives and personalities intently and dispassionately and says, “I need to work on this!  I can improve my compassion by 4 inches.  I can lengthen my patience by 2-3 minutes.  I can give 4% more to alleviate hunger in the world.  Christians strive for better and for more – more goodness, more justice, more Godliness, more God awareness.  Christians are mighty champions in pursuit of amazing feats and lofty, lofty goals.

And how do we know that this analogy is apt?  How do we know that any and all followers of Jesus Christ are called to discipline and focus, perseverance and energy, passion and humility, dedication and greatness?  We know because God’s revelation tells us so.  Right there, recorded for all time, right there, read to us this morning, right there in your hands, printed in black and white, Times New Roman, font 12, verbatim, straight from the Acts of the Apostles, Chapter 2, verses 42-47.

“Those who had been baptized devoted themselves to the Apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.”  They sold their possessions and goods and gave to others as any had need.  They spent much time together in the temple.  They broke bread and ate with glad and generous hearts – praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. 

Before there was the church, before there was the institution, creeds, the prayer books, the altar guild handbook, the treasurer’s report, and the stained glass, there was the beginning.  And, in the beginning, those who walked with Christ kept walking when He returned to the Father.  They walked long and far and they carried his message to others and that was their life.  That mission came first for them.  It came first every day.  They prayed and studied, acted with compassion and sacrifice.  And what was the result?

“Awe came upon everyone! Awe came upon everyone because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles!”

“And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being transformed.”

The first Christians are the correct models.  They learned from the Master.  They left us the training manual.

We can like the idea of being a follower of Jesus Christ or we can do the dedicated, singular work.  We can be spectators or we can change the world.  We can wait for others or we can be awe creators. 

In 2008, we can relight the flame of Christ.  We can set it ablaze.  We can become the modern day 1^st Christians. 

“Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by His followers.”               Amen.