Running the Good Race!
Here is a link to today’s readings.
With the Olympics in full swing, it seems appropriate to focus on the athletic metaphor that the letter to the Hebrews uses. Like Saint Paul, the writer encourages us to “rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus.”
Every athlete knows that to win the race requires discipline in all aspects of life: eating and drinking, resting and sleeping, training, and balancing all of this with other responsibilities. It is no coincidence that the word discipline and the word disciple are related. Followers of Christ are in the race of their lives! As St. Paul said to the Christians at Corinth: “Do you not know that the runners in the stadium all run in the race, but only one wins the prize? Run so as to win. Every athlete exercises discipline in every way. They do it to win a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one. Thus I do not run aimlessly; I do not fight as if I were shadowboxing. No, I drive my body and train it, for fear that, after having preached to others, I myself should be disqualified.” (1 Corinthians 9:24-27, NABRE).
At this summer’s Olympic Games in Brazil, perhaps nobody understands the discipline required more than Rafaela Silva. Born and raised in one of Rio’s worst favelas—a Portuguese word that means slums or ghettos—Silva brought home the gold on Monday to her City of God neighborhood. Despite crushing poverty and an environment filled with crime, drugs, and violence, Silva found a way to thrive. Now, she is an inspiration to others in the same situation and a source of hope. But it wasn’t easy. She was told that “The place for a monkey is in a cage. You are not an Olympian” at the trials for the 2012 Olympics in London. Up against racism and poverty, she persevered nonetheless.
Silva’s coach, Geraldo Bernardes, understands the favela. “Judo,” he said, “requires from the athlete a lot of sacrifice. But in a poor community, they are used to sacrifice. They see a lot of violence; they may not have food.” Silva translated that sacrifice into athletic discipline and parlayed all of it into a gold medal victory for Brazil. Hopefully, her personal triumph will also draw attention to the plight of the poorest among us, reminding us that they, too, are our sisters and brothers, and that if we neglect them we may find ourselves “disqualified” as St. Paul feared.
American culture threatens us in exactly this way. We need to keep “our eyes fixed on Jesus”—that is, on the poor and the marginalized with whom He identifies—but the culture distracts us. It is imperative as Christians that we “rid ourselves of every burden and sin” so that we can run this race effectively. Are we burdened by accumulation of possessions when some people don’t have food enough to survive? Are we blind to the sin of racism and its systemic and structural nature? Can we even see those in desperate need beyond the manicured neighborhoods of suburbia? Does our busy-ness become a burden that prevents us from prioritizing and addressing the well-being of our brothers and sisters in need? These are hard questions. I feel uncomfortable when I think of the luxury I enjoy each day while others go hungry; get caught up in violence, drugs, and prostitution out of desperation; and struggle just to survive. Do I really have my eyes on Jesus? Or am I going off course?
If Silva has anything to teach us, it is not that people in poverty can rise by their own bootstraps to improve their situation. That is a vicious myth when applied to an entire population. It is simply impossible for every person stuck in an unjust system to break free of it. To imply otherwise is to blame the victim and to soothe our own consciences without warrant. Silva’s story should teach us another lesson, the same lesson that St. Paul and the reading from Hebrews conveyed: being a Christian necessarily involves sacrifice. And we who are so comfortable need to “rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us.” Athletes like Silva are willing to suffer and to sacrifice to gain the victory. In our comfort, we are not really being athletes at all. We have not yet begun to sacrifice. “In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood,” Hebrews reminds us. This is no small indictment. We are in danger of being “disqualified.”
