Run—And Do Not Lose Heart

When I was fifty-seven years old I was pretty new to running as a hobby of physical fitness. On March 1 of 2014, after a lot of training, I lined up for my first marathon. I had many anxieties about whether I could finish and needed some motivation, so I privately dedicated my efforts to my father-in-law, Harry Randall, and my father, Hermon Price.

My thought was for the first half of the marathon, whenever I needed a boost of inspiration I would think of Harry who had died in November 2010, and for strength in the second half, I would think of Hermon who died July 2013. My father could not run for fitness after WW II because of a serious injury to his foot as an infantryman in the European Theater. Harry could not run in his senior years because of a slow-progressing form of muscular dystrophy. Both were significant inspirations in my life.

I made it through the test of that race, leaning on thoughts of each of them numerous times to make it. How happy I was to cross that finish line! Our life of faith is a kind of race. St. Paul uses that image in 2 Timothy 4:7-8. Perhaps you recall it. Paul is contemplating that the end of his ministry is near, writing, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”

If we were celebrating the Eucharist on Wednesday of Holy Week, we would hear an epistle lesson: a powerful image of the Christian effort, comparing it to a foot race. The author of Hebrews, whoever it is, speaks of a cloud of witnesses. These are noble figures of faith from the salvation history of the Hebrew scriptures, recounted in a prior section (chapter 11). They are imagined as witnesses who cheer the runner on in the race. If we are the runners, the one to whom we run, the one at the finish line, is Jesus, who opened the way to begin trusting in him, and who moves us steadily to complete trust, as we are refined by him. Here is the passage:

Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such hostility against himself from sinners, so that you may not grow weary or lose heart.  —Hebrews 12:1-3

As we run on through Holy Week, and on through the whole distance of our life’s race, we are stirred by the strength and stamina Christ modeled for us. We see what hostility Jesus endured, so perhaps we will not lose heart in the struggles that we face. He shared in what we are in human life, so that we may share in what he is in his divine life.

I add here what I most hope for us all in Holy Week: that we let our observance take us up into a spirit of exuberance. Even if much in culture or much in our worship tradition keeps people stayed or reserved in their expressed faith, the reality and effect of Christ’s sacrifice for us deserves more. We can give ourselves to God more fully; feel and respond to the Spirit with more passion. Come on, friends! Look at the image of the runner in the Hebrews passage. If that depicts us, we hear the cheers of the supporters all around us. We look to Jesus, the one who saves us. Excited to run, we toss all our extra clothes aside, and anything that weighs us down. Nothing will stop us. We run with perseverance; we run with energy and purpose. We keep going—not discouraged by wind, not minding the hills, fighting through fatigue—we run strong. That is us. Let it always be us. We consider the Savior, and we do not lose heart.