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Limping to the Line
A paraplegic vet limped his way into the hearts — and wallets — of Help for Heroes supporters. His “all in” efforts inspire us to forget the past and stride toward the goal.
In February 2008, Maj. Phil Packer was struck by a rocket blast while serving with the British Armed Forces in Basra, Iraq. He suffered major heart and spinal injuries — enough that medics told the now-paraplegic soldier that he would never walk again.
But they were wrong — wrong by a whopping 26.2 miles.
Last summer, Maj. Packer completed the Flora London Marathon — on crutches — only one month after a year’s rehab allowed him to finally take his first step with them. Starting the marathon with the main race group, he finished it 13 days later. He covered roughly two miles a day, and the whole journey took him 52,400 steps.
When you’re told you’ll never walk again, every step is worth counting. And when each race day consists of 4,000 painful steps, you probably count each limp and remember every one of them.
For Packer, limping in was actually all in.
His herculean efforts were more than just an amazing story of human will and overcoming the odds. His marathon was a fundraising movement to donate more than £1million (about $1.5 million) to Help for Heroes — a charity that rebuilds the torn-up lives of people injured in military service.
As Packer successfully limped toward his funding goal, he was joined each day along the road by scores of tear-drenched supporters. Families of lost soldiers. Entire schools of inspired children. Cops. Firefighters. Politicians. Onlookers caught up in the seemingly transcendent journey.
Packer’s marathon was neither his first nor his last fundraising challenge. Before his wheelchair-bound legs would work, he recognized the one-year anniversary of his war injury by rowing across the English Channel.
After the marathon, Packer took on Yosemite’s infamous El Capitan — one of America’s hardest mountains to scale. He accomplished a four-day summit almost entirely by upper-body strength developed through his training regimen of 4,000 pull-ups.
Maimed by a rocket blast. A year later rowing the Channel. Two months later taking his first step. One month later limping a marathon. One month later scaling El Capitan.
We could call that 17-month run inhuman. But it’s actually superhuman.
Few can agree with the apostle Paul the way Maj. Phil Packer can. “If anyone else has reason to be confident in the flesh, I have more” (v. 4). “[F]orgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal” (vv. 13-14a).
Packer’s journey from past to future was a physical striving. Paul’s was spiritual, and he puts in front of us a challenge.
Are we “all in” with God, or are we going to “limp in”?
Letting go of the past
The dominant metaphor in Paul’s text is the marathon, or the race. You’re shedding what you don’t need in order to run more efficiently, you’re pressing toward the goal, you expect to achieve the prize. It’s all there.
But first, you shed the useless stuff so your running can be light and without unnecessary impediments. That’s why Paul argues that we need to forget the past.
Paul is fending off false theologians who are “cutting up” his message of salvation without law-bound works (vv. 2-3). He offers his spiritual curriculum vitae (vv. 5-6) and then calls it “rubbish” (v. 8) — a gentle English rendering of skubala.
Paul was basically looking for an attention-grabbing and crass way of making a point. Anything we try to bring to the table is a big, fat pile of … theological rubbish.
Paul’s past — with both its impressive religious résumé and its equally impressive failures — was, well, past. It was now useless information. It was of no use to him as he endeavored to know Christ fully.
Everyone in our churches has a past. For some people, the years have engendered a sense of spiritual merit. Long-term church attendance. Learning self-control and discipline. Growth in theological knowledge. Giving faithfully.
For others, the past is what makes them feel unworthy of Christ. The failed relationship. The debt. The secret habits. The abortion. They feel unlovely and unlovable.
The checkered past and the sterling past have the same thing in common — they’re skubala.
The scandal of grace is that we are meritless. We can’t bring anything good enough to get God to love us. Nor can we do anything vile enough to sever God’s love.
It’s so hard for most of us to believe — and feel — this because grace is the opposite of how most human relationships operate. Sure, we can talk unconditional love, but rarely is it true.
Employers offer performance bonuses, not unconditional bonuses. We’re closer to certain family members than others for reasons we can’t articulate. Our friends are usually people who share affinities with us — humor, intelligence, hobbies, income, education, kids, etc.
In other words, few, if any, relationships teach us what our relationship with God is supposed to look like: loved because of him, not because of us.
Richard Rohr, who writes a lot about spiritual formation, says: “God does not love us because we are good. He loves us because God is good. Why can’t we surrender to that? Because it initially feels like a loss of power and importance!”
Whether we’re pretty good or not good enough, we have to let go of the sense of self-importance. Who we’ve been simply doesn’t change God.
As a practical exercise, let’s compare two people in our church. Pick examples that would be tangible in your congregation. Say one is a single mother who never learns while stringing together train-wreck relationships — two kids by two different fathers. The other is the successful and generous businessman who serves passionately as a deacon — a model of Christ-following in the church.
A few questions need honest answers: Who does God love more? Who is more responsible for their righteousness? Who is more worthy of their forgiveness? Who brings more to the table for God?
The point is that God simply has no favorites. He doesn’t see people as we tend to see them.
That should never de-motivate the pursuit of holiness. The reasons we live lives of goodness and obedience are another great sermon.
But Paul is clear: We have no merit before God. And so, like Paul, we must let go of the idea that our good or bad past performances pre-condition God to love us more or less.
Living into the future
Having shed unnecessary baggage, Paul, the runner, now says that we press and strain forward with our eyes on the prize. If we can follow his example, regardless of who we’ve been, we are set completely free to God’s future for us.
Paul’s hope for Philippi, and now us, is that we strain forward to what lies ahead (v. 13) and press on toward the goal (v. 14).
The motivation for Paul is clear — sharing Christ’s resurrection one day. In the meantime, there’s a kingdom to help expand. We have a life to live as people who have been made Christ’s own.
When Christ is everything to us, the future is big. It’s risky. It’s creative. It’s fulfilling.
So what lies ahead for us? What goal are we supposed to press on toward?
Businesses create marketplace goals. Our schools set classroom-performance standards. Even some church leaders are gifted at organizationally discerning, casting and implementing vision.
But do we have those kinds of patterns as we look to our own future with God? Do we appropriately goal-set our role in the kingdom?
Paul’s doxology in Ephesians 3 reminds us that God can do immeasurably more than what we ask or imagine.
So as Christ-followers, let’s develop a little holy imagination. Let’s pursue hope at all costs. Let’s ask God what the future could look like and then ditch our fears that hold us back from it.
All in or limp in?
Maj. Packer had two ways he could have approached life. The first was to collect a disability check and a whole lot of sympathy because of his past. It’s a fair approach any of us might have taken in his situation. But that was limping in.
The other was to call the past irrelevant regarding the future. To risk failing on big financial goals. To endure insufferable pain so he could change the experience of others such as him. That is all in.
Paul had a similar choice. We have the same today. Limp in or all in?
God actually allows the limp in. Plenty of people filling our churches can check off the “I’m saved” box. They, like Paul, will share in the resurrection of Christ when they die. God’s unconditional love covers even Sunday Christians.
But are people living before they’re dying? Are they remaining confined to their past — successes and failures? Are they dreaming with God what next month could look like and doing something about it today?
If you’re limping today, keep limping. If you do, you’ll find that soon you’re all in. And God can’t ask for more.
Possible Preaching Themes:
• Verse 10 is a bit mystic but can be made practical.
• What does it mean for people to share the sufferings of Christ?
• How do we during our life become like him in his death?
Sources:
philpacker.com
Rohr, Richard. From Wild Man to Wise Man. Cincinnati, Ohio: St. Anthony Messenger Press, 2005.
YouTube Video Idea
March 21, 2010
Preview the following clip for possible use with this week’s material:
The Link: youtube.com/watch?v=cxqe77-Am3w/. Time: 4:08.
The Content: An inspirational montage about the true story of Team Hoyt, a father who has pushed, pulled and bicycled his disabled son in hundreds of marathons and triathlons.
Hymns
Love Divine, All Loves Excelling
Amazing Grace
Shall We Gather at the River?
Praise
Blessed Be Your Name (Redman)
Center (Hall, Redman)
Knowing You (Kendrick)
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COMMITMENT
Chains of Love
The Re-Solution
What Happened to Lunch?
Gold Glut
Hikikomori Moses
The Clothesline Christ
The Jesus Type
Drop-in Discipleship
The Hardest Thing
Jump the Shark
Opryland Discipleship
Sweaty Feet and Breathing Shoes
A Passion-Driven Church
A Magnificent Obsession
Dream On!
Heirs of the Promise
Take No for an Answer
PERSEVERANCE
Gouty Christians
Scouting the Deep Water
Pressing On
Jesus and the Venus Rosewater Dish
Ballast in the Bottom
Ultramarathon Faith
The Finish Line
DNF
SF/HF
The Miracle Mile
Curb Your Enthusiasm
The Noble Prize
Survival in Borneo
Never Give Up
Faith's Four Prison Positions
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on Philippians 3:4b-14 |
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from Mar 21, 2010
In recent years, several fine books have encouraged Christian preachers to boldly proclaim their faith and the New Testament Scriptures without “blaming the Jews,” “dismissing the Law” or exuding “contempt” arising from even “unintended anti-Judaism.” It is likely that a review of the history of sermons on this lectionary passage would do much to und
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There’s a term in Texas hold ’em poker for wagering only the minimum amount necessary to get into a hand — limping in.
Some people consider cards a sub-Christian vice. Regardless of what you think about poker, we’ve all seen the explosive popularity of professional tournament poker being played for huge stakes on television.
“Limping in” is one way to approach a hand. It’s conservative. A player is interested enough to bet the minimum and see what cards might turn up but isn’t totally committed to playing the hand. It’s like a safety measure to strategically appease one’s curiosity.
The opposite poker play is a term more of us may be familiar with: “ALL IN!” That’s the bravado cry of players pushing every chip they have into the pot. They hope they have what it takes to go for it all. It is poker’s equivalent of the hail Mary touchdown pass — win or lose the whole thing on one play.
There’s a spiritual metaphor to be had here. In Philippians 3, Paul is modeling the “all in” life of faith. His model is challenging because a lot of us prefer to just “limp in” on God.
The IRS once received a letter from an anonymous taxpayer. It read: “I have cheated on my income tax for the past seven years, and tonight my conscience is troubling me to the point that I cannot sleep. I have enclosed a $100 bill as my way of saying, ‘I’m sorry.’ If I find that I still can’t sleep, I will send the rest of what I owe.”
An old Peanuts cartoon has Lucy standing in the outfield of Charlie Brown’s baseball diamond. As a fly ball sails toward her, she remembers all the other times she’s dropped the ball. You can guess what happens next: She drops this one, too.
Then Lucy calls out to Charlie Brown, who’s standing there on the pitcher’s mound: “I almost had it, but then my past got in my eyes!”
It was one of the most significant milestones in sports history. A young medical student named Roger Bannister walked out onto a university track in Oxford, England. Weather conditions were less than optimal: cold and windy. Even so, 3,000 people were watching. The crowd had come out to see him run because they knew that day he was going to attempt a record that had never before been achieved. Roger Bannister was going to try to run a mile in less than four minutes.
For years, the four-minute mile had been the holy grail of runners. Some physiologists claimed it was impossible, saying the human body simply couldn’t take that kind of strain. This wasn’t a sprint; it was a mile — a distance event. It required careful pacing, planning, mental attitude — not to mention sheer physical endurance. In the weeks prior to the race, the 25-year-old medical student had undergone a grueling training regimen. Every day, for a half-hour of his lunch break, he ran 10 quarter-mile races, taking breaks of just two minutes between each one.
On the day of his attempt, Bannister had a game plan. He had two other expert athletes running with him to pace him: one who was to run ahead of him for the first half of the race and another for the second. In the final stretch, the plan was for him to break into a furious sprint, to give it everything he had.
It all happened according to plan. Bannister charged across the finish line and collapsed into the arms of a friend. “It was only then,” he said later, “that real pain overtook me. I felt like an exploded flashlight with no will to live.”
When the announcer read out the time — three minutes, 59 seconds — the crowd went wild. They had witnessed history in the making, and they knew it.
Bannister’s record has been broken many times since — the first time, a mere six weeks after he set it. But he will always be the first. “It may seem incredible today,” he told the BBC, “that the world record at this classic distance could be set by an amateur athlete, in bad weather, on a university running track.”
Even more exceptional — in light of the way many of today’s top athletes neglect their studies — just a month after breaking the four-minute mile, Bannister qualified as a medical doctor, and he went on to have a successful career as a neurologist and, later, head of an Oxford college.
—“Students recreate four-minute mile,” http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/education/3461863.stm. Retrieved October 20, 2009.
Babe Didrikson Zaharias was as famous an all-around athlete as America has ever known. Everything she touched in the world of sports, she excelled at — basketball, track and field, golf. Just before her death, someone asked her about her faith.
“I’ve never been what you’d call a real church-going Christian,” Didrikson Zaharias admitted, “but I’ve always said my prayers that I learned when I was a little kid, and I still say the same prayers today.”
How sad that this superb athlete, who knew the value of practice and physical training, so neglected her spiritual workout! If she had continued, as a grown woman, to play basketball, or jump hurdles or swing a golf club, as she did when she was “a little kid,” she never would have achieved anything. Yet at age 42, Didrikson Zaharias was still repeating the same rote prayers she learned at her mother’s knee.
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Show the children a basketball, and talk about a few of the skills needed to be a good basketball player: dribbling, passing, shooting. Describe how some players can dribble between their legs and pass to other players behind their backs. Say that these are impressive skills, but none are worth anything if the player doesn’t keep focused on the goal of putting the ball in the basket. Explain how the apostle Paul had some impressive religion skills: “as to the law, a Pharisee … as to righteousness under the law, blameless” (vv. 5-6). See if the children can guess what was missing, and then tell them that Paul didn’t know Jesus Christ as his Lord. Emphasize that once Paul came to know Jesus, then he became like a basketball player focused on putting the ball in the basket. He said, “[S]training forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus” (vv. 13-14). Admit that there are many good skills to develop in life, as students and athletes and musicians. But we shouldn’t let any of these skills distract us from knowing Jesus and following him. Encourage the children to do their best at everything but to keep their eyes on Jesus, the goal of the Christian life.
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