You know the film “Chariots of Fire”? My parents insisted that my sister and I watch it as part of our “cultural education.” (Other films in this VCR rental curriculum included “Rocky,” and “My Dinner with Andre.”) Anyhow, whether or not you lived through the 80s, “Chariots of Fire” is famous for its triumphant soundtrack by the Greek composer Vangelis with scenes of runners striving over sandy beaches along a cold northern sea, training for the hope of Olympic glory – “Da da daa dadaaa daaaaa, da da daaa dadaaaaaaaaa. da da daa dadaaa daaaaa, da da daaa dadaaaaaa!”

One of the central characters, Eric Liddell, is a deeply devout Christian from a Scottish missionary family, who is also a supremely gifted sprinter. His family and church think that his interest in sports competition is frivolous, or worse: It’s not just a distraction but a prideful temptation away from Eric’s God-given purpose to serve God and serve humanity by continuing his family’s work of sharing the Gospel of Jesus in far-off lands. This leads to a crisis of conscience for Eric. But he breaks through this crisis into clarity: He must keep running. 

“I believe God made me for a purpose,” Eric says, “He made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure.” (He uses masculine pronouns for God).

When Eric decides to compete for the Olympics, he ends up being blessed for it by a minister who says,

“You can praise God by peeling a spud if you peel it to perfection … Run in God’s name and let the world stand back in wonder.”

In the words of the 2nd century Christian theologian Irenaeus, “The Glory of God is a human being fully alive!” In truth there need not be a tension, need not be a crisis between serving God and activating one’s gifts.

When we experience for ourselves what it is like to be a human being fully alive, we know it to be true that this has a sacredness, an expression of the glory of our Creator. And when we witness this in others, we know it to be true. It’s an important part of the reason, I believe, that we find beauty and awe and fascination in watching the best of the best compete in sports, or witnessing passionate musical performances, or for that matter circus performers, or any kind of skilled artistry or skilled work that requires one’s full focus and dedication.  

“The Glory of God is a human being fully alive!”

This means that whoever we are, wherever we are on life’s journey, living into our God-given purpose does not mean suppressing or repressing the glory of our being fully alive. It means activating that fullness and directing it to the Glory of God. So, whether we’re peeling potatoes or tying our shoe or teaching a class or singing karaoke or running in the sand or giving medicine to a patient or food to someone who is hungry or working for a more peaceful and equitable world or plying whatever is our craft – let what we do be from the fullness of our life for sake of God’s glory.

But wait, I thought we had to deny ourselves and take up our cross to follow Jesus. Right? Well, what does that really mean? Does it mean being miserable and frustrated and shamed into a restricted life?

The early Christians were notorious in their time for being joyful. It was baffling to the people around them, irritating even, how joyful these Jesus followers were, even in tough times. Their hearts were open, their souls expansive. They were not dower and glum and obsessed with suffering and death. The truth had set them free.

These were human beings fully alive, shining forth the glory of God.

Whom do you find really inspiring? And why? I suspect the inspiration may come from what we see to be someone being fully alive, and fully alive for a purpose we find beautiful or true.

As Christians, it’s Jesus we look to as the inspiration above all inspirations, a life fully alive, the full expression and embodiment of God’s glory on earth. After all, the word itself – “Christian” – means something like “little Christlings.” It was a derogatory term that Romans used for the motley crew of outcasts and misfits running around happily imitating this outrageously generous and merciful Jesus, even in the face of repression.

Especially as we approach Holy Week, we remind ourselves of just how totally Jesus lived out his purpose, God’s purpose for his life, despite failure, despite ridicule, in the face of the fear and suffering due to all the forces in the world that want to deny and destroy the full embodiment of God’s glory and love on earth.

This is not just someone living out any purpose or any truth, but a purpose and a truth aligned totally with a higher truth, a holy truth. Christ was nothing less than the embodiment of Divine Love, Divine Peace, Divine Justice, Divine Mercy. “Christians” are to grow in imitation of that, to become ourselves “little Christlings.”

There is a smallness of self, a pettiness of ego, a constricted sense of identity that keeps us away from the fullness of our life and soul and purpose in the light of God’s glory, and that strives to keep others away from the fullness of their life. This small self wants to stay in control of our lives, and deny the dictates of Divine love, through fear or anger.

This is the self that Jesus means us to turn away from, the seed he says must die for the sprout of new life to emerge. There can be pain in this growth. And there can be resistance when we say yes to it, sometimes from within ourselves and sometimes from others. People sometimes have even been killed for it, in this world that can be so merciless. This says something about the cross Jesus calls us to be willing to bear to follow his example of a life fully lived in the glory of God.

Do you see how this does not need to be a recipe for misery? But rather the opposite? A fearlessness to withstand the pain that may come – or may not come, hopefully not – as we release what we need to release to unleash the fullness of who God calls us to be.

The Way of Jesus is the Way of Mercy, after all.

The Gospel is the antidote to everything that suffocates souls. Souls cannot flourish in an environment that is merciless, or an environment of violence and war, an environment where injustice reigns, and wrongdoing thrives and deprives others of the necessities of life, where lies and betrayal are the rule rather than the exception.

The antidote, in the beautiful words of Psalm 85, is the union of Mercy and Truth, the kiss between Peace and Justice. The holy power that unleashes souls to shine forth the glory of God through the fullness of our lives.

So, I pray that as a church community we can continue to live into our purpose to be a house of mercy and truth and peace and justice, for the sake of the activation of souls, for the release and realization of people’s fullness of life in the light of the Glory of God.

For this sacred purpose I pray in the words of the spiritual that Jesus may “hold our hands while we run this race.”

“Da da daa dadaaa daaaaa, da da daaa dadaaaaaaaaa. Da da daa dadaaa daaaaa, da da daaa dadaaaaaa!”

Delivered Sunday, March 17, 2024, by Rev. Nathaniel Mahlberg, at the United Church of Christ at Valley Forge

Image: Foot Race, Panathenaic Vase, Encyclopædia Britannica (11th ed.), v. 12, 1911, p. 478, Fig. 15. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons