Years ago I went to a track meet where a friend of mine was competing for a national title. I’m sure many of you have gone to track meets at the high school or elementary school level, but there is something different about the meets at this level. The athletes are bigger, faster, and stronger, and they have much higher expectations. Most of the athletes at this level have been competing since a very young age and most of them know these meets are their last competition before hanging up their spikes. However, some athletes there are considering competition on the international stage and a few are hoping for Olympic glory. With all of these motivations circulating around the track, the drive for success can make the cost of failure high.
While I was there to see my friend run, it is not his race I remember (but don’t tell him that!) I was watching the 400-meter high hurdle races, and the runner, a senior, who was expected to win the national title was in the first heat. (For those not familiar with track terminology, a heat is a preliminary race where the top few runners heat advance to the next round and the bottom few runners are eliminated.) This runner pulled so far ahead in the first few seconds after the race began that it was obvious all other runners were competing for second place. By the time he rounded the last turn he was probably 40 meters ahead of everyone else, maybe more. On any other day, this would have guaranteed a coast to the finish line, where he could have taken his shoes off, and read a book before the next runner finished. But on this day, the story would be different.
I still don’t know how he made the mistake, but about 10 meters in front of the real finish line where all the timers were standing with a stopwatch in hand, there was another white line drawn across the track. Somehow, he had reasoned that the first line was the end of his race, because when he crossed it he stopped, bent down, stretched a little and twisted his back. The crowd went momentarily silent as the other seven runners closed the gap. As if directed by a conductor, the entire crowd erupted in pandemonium yelling at the runner and telling him that he wasn’t finished yet. It took a moment, but the runner looked at the crowd then down the track just as the other seven runners began to pass him. He turned and sprinted to the finish line in time to take 7th place, but not in time to advance to the next round.
I will never forget watching him as he continued to run past everyone, through the gates of the stadium, and down the long gravel driveway leading to the parking lot where the team buses were parked. I remember watching him plop down on the ground next to one bus and put his head between his knees and a shirt over his head. I remember looking at him every once in a while throughout the day to see him still sitting against the large, dirty tire of a bus. I remember looking his way late in the day, hours after the race to see his spot next to the bus empty. His bag, which had been laying next to the track all day, was also gone and I knew he would not soon forget this day. Someone else finished the race and claimed the prize that should have been his had he only finished the race.
Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints. – Psalm 116:15
I’ve always wondered what this verse meant as it seemed like such an odd thing for God to value the death of those who died believing in him and following his ways. It seemed that if he valued them so much, he should count their lives as precious, not their deaths. Why must he value their death? Even now, as I have been reading through this psalm again to write this entry I was confounded by that verse until I remembered the previous story of the hurdler.
I think it’s possible that God counts a saint’s death as precious because when one finishes life’s race well God is pleased. Life is full of false finish lines where we stop and rest, sometimes even leaving the track and forgetting about the race. I know it’s possible to spend a great deal of one’s life investing time, treasures, and talents into kingdom work but then royally screw up. We need to look no further than ourselves for this, but I will (safely) use scripture as an example. Take a look at the life of Solomon or Hezekiah and you will see kings who started their race ahead of the pack but as they closed in on the finish line, they stopped and made some very wrong choices, eventually crossing the barrier of death poorly.
I’m not talking about salvation, for salvation comes as a result of God’s work, not man’s. No, this is a discussion of how we run our race as followers of God. There are some who seem to never make major mistakes in their life, never being held in the grip of sin and addiction, but most of us are not so lucky. Some of us see finish lines every time we take a step, often fabricating them in hopes that we can be freed from both temptation and the burden of guilt. But such finish lines are sheer fantasy. There is only one finish line and we must persevere until then by finding our rest in him as we run this race. We must trust that his hand will guide us through the trials and tribulations of life. And we must learn to value only that which God values: a life finished well.
