Read Isaiah 40: 28-31 and Ephesians 4: 17-32 to start.

Last month was the 20^th annual PEI Marathon. It’s grown to be a rather large event, with more than 2000 participants this year. I’m pleased to report that I have maintained my perfect record of not participating. That’s right, 20 years of marathons in PEI, and I haven’t competed in a single one. With sufficient planning and enough training, and this might be tough, but I’m hoping to stretch that out to 21 next year.

Obviously this is a joke, or at least I hope it’s obvious. I’m clearly not a marathon runner. I’m not much of a runner at all, that’s apparent from looking at me. Overweight middle-aged men with short legs don’t run marathons. For the most part, we don’t run very much at all.

If for some unimaginable reason I decided I wanted to run a marathon, or, let’s be at least remotely realistic here, a 5k, then I would need to prepare for it. No one, absolutely no one on this planet, can get up in the morning and decide, with zero preparation, that this is the day they are going to run a marathon. Well, let me rephrase that. Anyone can decide they want to do that, or get up and think that, but no one actually can. Even experienced runners train extensively for marathons, and they may not finish them. It’s a serious thing, not an activity that you cannot do on a casual or whimsical basis.

There’s good reasoning behind why we see frequent comparisons that liken the Christian life to running a race. Paul and the anonymous writer of Hebrews in particular use this imagery, along with the analogy of athletic competition in general.

For example, in 1 Corinthians chapter 9, we read at verse (24) Know ye not that they which run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize? So run, that ye may obtain. (25)  And every man that striveth for the mastery is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a corruptible crown; but we an incorruptible. (26)  I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that beateth the air: (27)  But I keep under my body, and bring it into subjection: lest that by any means, when I have preached to others, I myself should be a castaway.

What is this race? In essence, we start a race the moment we decide to follow Christ, to take up the cross of Jesus of Nazareth, to accept His free gift of salvation from sins.

On one level, that’s like flipping a switch from off to on, because we pass from death to life when we make that decision. However, that’s only the beginning, that’s like leaving the starting blocks. That’s not a destination, it’s a first step. There’s a long way to go before arriving.

When we think about running a race, maybe it’s a sprint that comes to mind. After all, the 100m race is one of the highest profile events at the Olympic Games. But that’s not what the Christian life is like, that’s not the type of race that Paul was referring to. We’re talking about a long distance race.  A marathon is of course the common example we think of when we talk about a long distance running event, but even a marathon is over in a few hours. The race a believer runs, the course goes from the day he or she is saved until the day of passing into eternity.

That means it is not about who is first to the finish, but about running well. How do you run a race that lasts for the rest of your life? If it’s not about speed, then what is it about? It’s about endurance. It’s about continuing, about moving forward, about staying on the course, and not ending up, as Paul describes in verse 27 that I read a minute ago, as a castaway.

I’m not suggesting for a moment that we need to do work in order to obtain or retain our salvation. Salvation is promised to all who believe, and it is paid in full by Christ’s work on the cross. He died on the cross for us, and He was buried and rose again on the third day because that was the only way the price for sin could be paid, and we had no way to pay it on our own. Our only other option apart from accepting salvation in Jesus Christ is to die in our sins. That may sound harsh, but it’s true. The wages of sin are death, and we know that we have all sinned.

So how are we in a race, then, if we are fully saved from the penalty of sin the moment we believe and accept Christ as our Saviour? We are in a race because Christ has called us to follow Him, to walk in the way that He walked, to live in the way that He lived, and it does not take a particularly in depth study of the four gospels to figure that out. It is apparent that He did not sit around being passive, uninvolved, or unhelpful. He actively worked to help the people He encountered, in a spiritual sense as well as a physical sense.

We can’t do exactly what He did, because we are not divine, we do not have that sort of power or authority, but if we want to be like Him, then we don’t get to be passive or useless, either. We should follow His example. We should care about others, we should care about how we treat people, we should consider them as important and as valuable as we consider ourselves, maybe more. We should care about obeying the rules that God has set out for us to follow, rules, which I will point out, are largely for our own good, and for the good of the people around us.

This is not a sermon on the application of the Ten Commandments, but if you consider them carefully and with the belief that the Creator loves you and wants good things for you, it becomes apparent that even those commandments that deal with our relationship with God, obeying them will lead to far better long term results than rebelling against Him.

And that is what running this race is all about, it’s about long term results. That’s what Paul was looking at when he talked about not becoming a castaway. That does not mean a literal stranded person, like Robinson Crusoe or the crew from Gilligan’s Island, although we know that Paul did experience that in his life, he was in at least three shipwrecks, we are told in 2 Corinthians, and probably a fourth time, as it is generally understood that the wreck of the ship carrying him to Rome, which was wrecked at Malta in a storm, took place after 2 Corinthians was written. That’s not the type of castaway that he was worried about; it was about becoming unapproved, unacceptable, or functionally worthless. He did not wish to be disqualified.

That is a danger when you run a race, you cannot go ahead and do whatever you want, go whichever way you feel like going, or take some alternate route and go wildly off the course. That can result in penalties and even disqualification.

This is not to say that you are at risk of losing your salvation. I firmly believe that scripture is clear on that point, and that to suggest that we can unsave ourselves through our actions and choices would allow us far more power than is truthfully ours. We do not have the power to save our own souls, how then should we be able to somehow turn off Christ’s promise of eternal salvation? No, becoming a castaway does not mean that you are suddenly on the road to hell. It does mean that you are no longer of much use as a believer.

We cannot lose our salvation. We can certainly lose the joy of our salvation, though. We can lose the fellowship we have with other believers, the opportunity to be a blessing to those around us, and the communion we have with God, from not running well, from not running as we should.

Maybe you are asking how do I do that, or rather, how do I make sure that I don’t go off the course, that I do not stumble and crash? Well, we might be running a race, but it is important to keep a careful eye on how you walk.

Yes, I know, we were talking about running. And now we’re down to walking, which is of course slower and not nearly as exciting as running. Ever watch the race walking, maybe during the Olympics? They dropped the 50km race walk from the most recent Olympic games, but they still have the 20km. I have never sat and watched the whole race, but you see clips of it and it’s funny to watch, because they are walking quite fast, but not running. It’s amusing, but not nearly as interesting as the running races.

In all seriousness though, how we walk as believers, how we walk as followers of Christ, is of vital importance. After all, how do you expect to run a race if you haven’t figured out how to walk yet? It’s not about the literal putting of one foot in front of the other, it’s about how we live from day to day, how we conduct ourselves, how we spend our time and focus our attention. Why do we call it walking? Well, the thing with walking is that it is regular and repeated, it’s a standard occurrence.

There are some days when I might run. But then there are other days that more than make up for it. Because lots of days I don’t run at all, I don’t jog, I don’t jump, I don’t hop, or skip, or do cartwheels, for that matter. But I’m fairly certain that every single day in the last 48 years, I have walked. Ever since I learned how to do that when I was nine months old, I have walked. Maybe not far, there have been times when I’ve been sick and I’ve gone no farther than from my bed to the bathroom, but I’ve had to walk to get there. Walking is the default mode of transportation, the basic standard. It’s what we do every single day.

You can tell a lot from someone based on how they walk. There are programs that can analyze how someone walks in order to diagnose injuries and recommend treatment. There is even emerging technology that can utilize gait analysis to identify individuals by how they walk. Granted, that might be as much fiction as fact at this point, because it was featured in one of the Mission Impossible movies. But how we walk, how we live, how we conduct ourselves, is noticeable. You can tell a lot about someone from observing them, and how they walk from day to day.

There is a great deal in scripture about how we should walk, so I could probably pick a dozen different passages, but let’s look at Ephesians chapter 4. (1)  I therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you that ye walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called, (2) With all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering, forbearing one another in love; (3)  Endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

That’s one specific example, one among many. Here we are told to walk worthy, and in a selfless and patient manner. We are to be lowly and meek, we are to be at peace with those around us, and united in the Spirit with other believers. We are to forbear one another, that literally means that we are to put up with each other. Yes, that means we are called to be patient with those who frustrate and annoy us. Yeah, that’s challenging, because we all probably have a few people, or maybe more than a few, who bother us and drive us just a little bit crazy. You know what? There’s probably someone who finds you annoying. I’m sure people find me annoying. It goes both ways.

Likewise, we are not supposed to stand up for ourselves, we are to be meek and lowly. That’s the opposite of assertive and bold. Yeah, that’s another tough one, it’s tough for me, because I don’t naturally want to be meek, I have tendencies to be a bit pushy when I want something, or I perceive that something is wrong, I release my inner Karen, sometimes to the chagrin of my kids in particular. That’s not how we are supposed to behave, how we are supposed to walk, but that’s how I find myself walking, and not doing a particularly good job at times.

That’s one passage with only three verses. There’s more to it than that. Earlier we read the last half of that chapter, I’m not going to read it again, but it’s jam packed full of specifics for us, it’s an extensive list of how we are to walk as believers.

The executive summary is that we are not to be as unbelievers, not to be as we were before we came to Christ, not to be as we were otherwise. We are not to be preoccupied with shallow and temporary things, without understanding of eternity and disconnected from God’s purpose for us. We are not to be seeking our wants, looking to fulfill our selfish desires, whether those are for money, pleasure, sensuality, or what have you. This is not what Christ has shown us by His example, because He did not do those things. We are to put away our old ways, the old man the passage calls it, and put on new ways, the new man.

What does this new man, this new person, look like? This person is truthful, and does not tell lies. They do not hold grudges, they do not keep anger, malice, or bitterness in their heart. They do not allow space for the devil to operate freely in their lives. They do not steal, but they instead do honest work and they give to those in need. They do not speak offensively or harshly, to tear others down, but rather they seek to build others up with their words. They do not ignore the leading of the Holy Spirit. And finally, this new person is kind and is willing to forgive. They follow the example that God has given us, because He has forgiven us if we are in Christ.

That is how we are supposed to walk. That is the new man, or new woman for that matter, the new walk. This is not how the world behaves, it’s not our natural tendency, but it’s how we are called to walk. It’s what God wants for us, how He wants and expects us to walk.

I go through that list and it all sounds like a good way to walk, a good way to live. It sounds a lot better than the chaos and uncertainty that this world has to offer, and that is without considering the final destination. When you take the weight of eternity into the equation, then it’s hardly a comparison at all. These are two different results, two different roads, two different walks.

Of course, I say all this, but I know how often it is that I do not walk as I should. There are many of those things which I should not do, but I do them. I’m not going to run down a list, but I could, and most likely so could all of us. And likewise, there are those things which I should be doing, but I am not. Again, that’s not unique to me. We all fall short. Even as believers in Christ, we all fail to walk perfectly in the way that we should. We are running a race, but we have at hard time even walking.

As mentioned earlier, in our day to day lives, we all walk, and fairly often. They say that you should aim for 10,000 steps every day to promote good health. Some days I do that much, but not many. When I walk too much, especially over challenging terrain, I get sore and tired. Earlier this month there was a Saturday when everyone else in the house was busy apart from me and Levi, so the two of us went for a hike that morning. We went up to Bridgetown to hike the Boughton River trail, which if you like hiking and you haven’t been, I would recommend it. It’s scenic with some lovely views of the river, but it’s not like the Confederation Trail, or the Cardigan Trails by the ball fields. It definitely has some more challenging sections, there’s a decent amount of up and down, lots of twists and turns. It’s fairly long, and it’s not easy. There is a lookout point about two thirds of the way down the trail, and Levi wanted to go there, and so we did. There was an excellent view from the lookout, there’s a tower and everything. The walk back, though, even though we took the more straightforward route, it had enough up and down that my knees were aching by the time we got back to the car. And by the time we got home and ate lunch and I checked my blood sugar, it had dropped to a rather low level. I was exhausted, and needed a nap and a proper meal. I felt rough for the rest of the day.

I walk every single day, but my own strength was not sufficient for what was required of me that day. I’m an overweight diabetic with short legs. I’m not built to do a six and a half kilometre hike.

I imagine we’ve all probably had similar experiences, times when we have tried to do it all in our own strength, our own skills, our own wisdom, and it has been beyond us. We fall short, because we are human, we are sinners, we are weak, we are limited in what we can actually accomplish.

Earlier we heard a reading from Isaiah chapter 40. Those verses are familiar, and much loved, certainly in the top five of best known passages in the book of Isaiah, and that’s saying something. I’m going to read that again, because it’s so very relevant here.

 Isaiah 40:28-31 (28) Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the LORD, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? there is no searching of his understanding. (29) He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength. (30) Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall: (31) But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.

That last verse is one you see printed on inspirational pictures, most likely with an eagle in flight. We like the idea of renewed strength, because we all realize that we need it. Do you know what that actually means, though? The word we have as renewed in the KJV, and indeed in a great number of translations, I checked, the Hebrew word is chalaph (kaw-LAF) and what it literally means is to slide by, or change. It’s not usually translated as renew, that only happens twice, and only in the book of Isaiah.

If we wait on the Lord, if we listen to Him, if we pay heed to His word, if we spend more of our time in prayer and less in selfish pursuits, then we can start to actually enjoy the benefits that this passage promises. Our strength is insufficient, and always will be. His is not. His is without measure.

Rather than thinking about getting our own strength back, or getting more of it, we need to think about letting our own strength go, letting that slide away and instead lean on His strength. He has more than enough to spare, and He will gladly share if we are willing to trust in Him, rather than ourselves.

We all have a road to walk; we all have a race to run. There is no option to not participate and sit on the sidelines. We can do it well, or we can do it poorly. How you do that, and whose strength you do this in, though, that is up to you.