A race.
30 years ago.
Everyone’s forgotten.
I never will.

Lacing up soft leather cross-country cleats, I eyed the damp fall course, oak leaves angling to conceal the three mile ribbon of chalk dust that would decide who goes to the State meet and who stays home.

A gifted runner, why break a sweat, I thought, as I fantasized how the bright red stripe on my letter sweater would look, in the same way a bride imagines that moment when the music goes to Mendelssohn and a church full of elegant necks strain and crane to catch a glimpse of her.

Off went the gun.
A puff of smoke, the pound of the herd, the rainbow streak of 1980’s mesh jerseys from every high school in the county, vying for the top 15 spots, All-Region status, and another wood and gold trophy destined to find homes fronting bedroom bookcases, like household idols.
Rarely is such value ascribed to such cheap plastic.

I took the lead.
Then slipped back.
Why bother, I thought, when Top-15 was my only goal that day.
My laxity increased.
It would become my second biggest problem.
My biggest would be arithmetic.
I had counted 14th when I crossed the finish line.
The judges had counted differently.
This I learned as I eyed the numbered, wooden place card now clutched and about to snap in my anxious and sweaty hand.
It read 16th.

Few things are this infuriating.
A goal, well in view, yet slips away.
Had I given more, had I focused more, had I allowed myself to give any less than my all, I would not be here.
A lesson from a race.
A lesson for life:
Can I ever really be content when I give anything less than my all?

“Come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God,” reads John 3:21.
It is an invitation not to come part way or halfway, but to come, with all that we are, all the energy we can muster, avoiding the darkness, coming to the light.

Nicodemus is you and me.
He recognizes Jesus with clarity and caution.
He comes at night, away from the crowds and conclusions that a midday visit would surely draw.
Nicodemus, you and me… followers of Jesus whose reputations are in jeopardy every time we draw closer to the light.

Why follow more closely, we wonder.
Can’t I stay a safe distance, can’t I put some of my energies elsewhere?
Must I really die?
I have goals: to find purpose, to find meaning, and to give back.
I have found that goal in Jesus.
I know who I am, I know who I can be, and I know how to love, in Jesus.
I know I am my best self, in Christ.
But can’t I get there by giving a bit less than my all?
Can I hold back anything?
Must I surrender everything?

Can I really be my happiest by giving less than 100%?

That’s an easy one.
Just ask any runner who’s every finished 16th.


Recommended Books:
The Last Week –Marcus Borg & Dominic Crossan
Reading the Bible Again for the First Time – Marcus Borg
The Promise of Paradox – Parker Palmer