Dear friends, most people enjoy a little competition.  Some enjoy it more than others, but all of us at some time enjoy competing in a game, or watching an event where people square off with their skills to see who will win the prize.  Consider last weekend when the Super Bowl received the highest viewing share in years.  This weekend saw the start of the Torino Winter Olympics and whether you and I watch them or not, the world will be changed for a couple of weeks.  The usual worries over terrorism and politics and bird flu will be put on hold while the world watches "the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat."

          Apostle Paul enjoyed athletics and competition.  His letters contain several athletic references.  The Corinthians were familiar with foot races, boxing and other competition in their own Ithsmian games which occurred every other year and were second only to the Olympic games of Athens.  The Athens Olympics began in 776 BC and ran over a thousand years until Emperor Theodosius officially abolished them in 393 AD.  Modern olympics began in 1896 with Winter Olympics becoming a regular part of it in 1924.

          I was never much of an athlete in high school, but I did compete in track.  In my first year at college, I joined the track team, but because of work and studies, I rarely attended the workouts.  Others from the team worked with me in the dishwashing crew and one fellow, Dave, used to scold me for not coming to practice.  He ran the 440 yard dash and worked very hard on his form and endurance and had developed into a fair runner.  But he had to work hard because of all the competition in that event.  I ran 180 yard low hurdles (very poorly), and jumped the high jump (even more poorly).  But competition was light in those events and at least I was on the team!  One spring weekend as we went to the Jr. College relays, the coach asked, "Tasler, when's the last time you pole vaulted?"  "Sophomore year in high school," I said.  "Think you can clear 9 feet?  Because if you can, you can place.  There are only two others in the pole vault."  That weekend I came home with a nice little 2nd place trophy (one fellow did well, the other didn't clear the lowest height, so I won 2nd place).  My friend Dave, though, didn't place, and I'll never forget how angry he was that I got a trophy, and all he got was a green participation ribbon.

          Today's New Testament lesson is filled with references to competition.  "Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize?  Run in such a way as to get the prize.  Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training.  They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever.  Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air.  No, I beat my body and make it my slave, so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified."

          Paul mixes track and boxing here.  He is racing towards the finish in life, his flesh and spirit competing to win the real prize which is life with the Lord in heaven.  The trophy, we could say, is his eternal soul, so he prepares himself to do his best.  But then he shifts metaphors.  He says he does not box at the air; rather, he works his body into shape, and learns to control it so that he will not be disqualified in the race of the Christian life.

          We know, of course, that Paul would say it was not all up to him.  He could not win without Jesus.  God would have to do the most important parts of forgiveness and faith.  Paul's part is to pray, to grow in faith, to study the scriptures, and to live as Christ would want him to live.  That's what Paul means by training for the competition.

          Olympic competitors today seek medals of gold.  Some also win silver and bronze, but few remember who wins those.  In Paul's day the winner's medal was a laurel wreath.  They crowned the winners' heads, a symbol of a king's crown, but they did not last.  Soon they dried up, a reminder that all victory is temporary.  Somehow the idea of reminding winners that life is fleeting does not play into our games today.  We seek the trophy, the gold medal, or the Super Bowl ring.  But in Paul's day, the laurel wreath reminded them that victory is fleeting.

          Christians, however, see it differently.  With the help of the Holy Spirit, the crown we get does last forever; it does not fade.  It is not a branch, but life forever in the presence of God, and it comes by faith.  Silver and gold are nothing compared to life with God.  The skater loses her coordination, the racer loses his speed, and the hockey player loses his teeth!  But those who follow the Lord to eternity lose nothing.  Rather, they gain everything through Christ.

          The 1992 Barcelona Olympics was memorable.  British runner Derek Redmond was headed towards the thrill of victory in the 200 m. sprint, far ahead of the field, until he came around the turn and disaster struck.  Injury had forced him out of the same race four years before.  Now the agony of defeat came again as he fell to the ground, his hamstring completely torn.  All hope for victory was lost, but he did not give up.  In sheer agony he rose to his feet, and hobbled, hopped and dragged himself towards the finish.  The crowd could barely watch his pain, his valiant display of courage in this race that would surely be his last.  Then suddenly, out of the stands a big burley fellow pushed his way onto the track and put his arm around the young runner.  "Don't you think you should stop?" people heard him ask.  "No," Redmond responded.  And so the two of them walked and hobbled, tears streaming down both of their faces, as Derek Remond was helped across the finish line to the roar of the crowds, who cheered a real winner, a runner helped across the finish line by James Redmond, his father.  Unlike Carl Lewis and Jesse Owens, Derek Redmond is not a name that conjures up memories of Olympic gold medals.  But his effort that day defined courage and perseverance for millions of viewers, including myself.

          Jesus of Nazareth nearly quit the race.  In the Garden of Gethsemane He prayed, "Father, if it be possible, remove this cup of suffering.  Nevertheless, Thy will be done." (Luke 22:42)   And God the Father didn't!  Instead of bailing Him out, He helped His Son finish this most important race in human history, the race to Calvary, to the grave and to the resurrection.

          I once had a Confirmation student named David.  An expert swimmer, he twice just missed making the Olympic team.  But each time, David shook it off and kept on training and living each day for the Lord.  One year ago this month, David went for a little fun, tubing down a steep hill.  And he broke his back.  Today he has a 14" scar down the middle of his back that hides fused vertebrae, a steel rod and a near-useless spinal cord.  But he did not stop.  Today, this 6'6" fellow is counting his steps.  Aided by a walker, he is up to 56 steps at a time now, an exhausting achievement for a paraplegic.  He can no longer swim, but someday, he says, he will walk wherever he wants to go.  David never won a medal, but he is a true champion.  His story has encouraged thousands of young men and women not to lose hope.

          Karl never wanted to be in the Olympics, only to be a good engineer, and a father and a husband.  But then an auto accident 15 years ago all but severed his spinal cord.  And rather than give him a rosy picture, doctors kept telling him what he would never be able to do.  But Karl didn't believe them.  They said he would never breathe on his own, but he learned to.  Then they said he would not be able to sit up alone, but he did.  They told him to forget about driving a car, but today he has his license.  And, of course, they said don't even think about walking.  But now and then when he feels strong, Karl puts on his leg braces, picks up his arm crutches and takes a little stroll.  Karl never won a medal, but to his family and friends, and his fellow members here at Epiphany, he is a winner.  And not a day goes by that Karl doesn't thank the Lord for his wife and family who have helped him stand.

          True stories like this always encourage us, helping us overcome adversity.  But for every Karl and David, there are many who just give up.  Their legs can walk and their backs are not broken, but still they sit alone, bent over by adversity and lost hope.

          But you and I have hope in Jesus Christ, because He is there to lift us and heal us.  Jesus of Nazareth never gave up.  He knew what must be done for our eternal benefit, and He did it.  His race to the cross was not for His own prize, but for ours.  In fact, the prizes Jesus treasures most are us - His people, you and me, the people He saved.  He earned heaven for us, and He prays daily that each of us will join Him there by faith.  Christ's trophies are His people.  Every believer represents His greatest victory.

          Dr. James Dobson of Focus on the Family was an expert tennis player.  During his days at the University of Southern California in the late 1950s, he earned three trophies that he proudly had placed in the trophy cases in the USC Field House.  One day in the mid 1980s, he received a package, and inside were his three trophies.  With them was a note from the USC Athletic Director, "Found these in the trash.  Guess they were cleaning out the trophy cases.  Thought you'd like to have them."  Dr. Dobson was almost furious!  How could they throw out his trophies!

          Like most of us, Dr. Dobson eventually realized that earthly victory does not last.  Medals fade and are misplaced.  Trophies tarnish and are tossed out.  Victories are forgotten.  But it's not so with Jesus.  His prize of eternal life never goes away, never gets trashed.  It is ours forever.  May it be yours, too.  Open your heart to the Lord.  Let Him help you cross the finish line.  Be the victor, no matter what you have lost.  So -- let the games begin!  Amen

Copyright © 2006 by Pastor Bob Tasler.  All rights reserved.