Text:  Hebrews 12:1-13                                                                                  W 13th Sunday after Pentecost


 

Spiritual Gymnastics


 

            In the name of him who preserves our lives both in time and eternity according to his great love, dear friends in Christ:  I’m going to begin this morning by warning you that what follows may get a little personal – but I think it’s important that from time to time we do some honest introspection.  And with that in mind, I’ll ask you to close your eyes, if that helps, and imagine that you have just stepped out of the shower.  Finish toweling your self off so you don’t get water all over the floor.  Good. Okay, now, if you have a full-length mirror in your bathroom, stay put.  Otherwise, you’ll have to go to a room that has one.  Go there now and stand in front of it.  And don’t worry:  you’re home alone, the shades are drawn, and the doors are locked.  Okay, is everyone standing in front of a mirror? Good.  Now, if you’re still holding on to the towel, now’s the time to let it drop.  I want you to take a careful look at yourself from head to toe.  Ah-ah:  no looking at anyone else’s mirror; just your own.  Take a good look.  Without answering aloud, ask yourself, “Do I like what I see?”  Be honest.  Oh, and if you’re like me and you’re just staring at a shapeless, flesh-tone mass, go put your glasses on and start over.  If you’ve done that or can naturally see well enough without glasses and still see a shapeless, flesh-tone mass … well … then you’re probably not alone.  And those who are thinking, “Well, not exactly a shapeless mass … ‘round’ is a shape”—you’re not off the hook here.  I’ll bet that 95% of us or more aren’t quite happy with what we see. And I doubt that even one is at what he or she would consider peak possible fitness.  No, it’s safe to say that for each of us there’re pounds that could be shed or in some cases gained, certainly muscles that could be toned up, and we could all probably benefit from some exercise to increase our cardiovascular health.  But unfortunately, though we know that’s true – the naked truth is staring right back at us – it’s doubtful that many of us will actually do anything significant about it.  That’s not to say that we aren’t exercising and watching what we eat and so on – many of us are; but let’s face it, that’s mostly to maintain the status quo and prevent ourselves from getting too much worse, or at least to slow the process down, rather than to try to make any real improvements.

 

            All right, that’s enough of that self-evaluation. And as much as we might profit today from a discussion of healthy ways to improve the overall appearance and physical performance of that figure you saw in the mirror, that’s between you and your doctor and/or your physical trainer.  My real concerns are even more personal.  As your pastor and spiritual trainer, I’d like you to run through the same mental exercise we just did to take a look at your inner self.  I want you to imagine yourself now standing naked before a spiritual mirror:  one that allows you to see yourself the way God sees you … in the light of his perfection and holiness … in view of his desires and expectations for you as a Christian.  And please don’t misunderstand me.  We Lutherans are quite accustomed to examining ourselves in the mirror of God’s Law, seeing the filth and corruption of sin in our hearts, and fleeing to Christ Jesus, the Savior, who died for our sins and whose blood effectively covers or clothes our shame and disgrace.  That’s not exactly what I’m talking about here.  I’m assuming from the beginning that you are a child of God by faith in the Savior, that your sins have been forgiven, that you’re an heir of the eternal kingdom, and that you’re walking the path of life.  You’re a Christian.  It’s your very Christian self – the faith by which you call yourself a Christian – that’s what I want you to strip naked and stare at in the mirror.  The embodiment of your faith:  what kind of shape is that person in?  Do you like what you see there?  Or would you describe that person as weak, underfed, underweight, looking like even a tiny bit of spiritual stress would cause him or her to collapse?  Or perhaps the person is fed well enough, but carries the weight in the wrong places, mostly in useless flab around the thighs and midsection, while the limbs are hanging limp and lifeless, atrophied from lack of exercise?  Really now, what does your Christian self look like in the brutally honest mirror of truth.  Are you happy with the spiritual condition you’re in? Just guessing here, but I’ll bet we could all stand to get with it and shape up.  

 

            That’s precisely what the writer of the letter to the Hebrews is encouraging us to do in today’s Epistle reading.  And as he does it, he’s using language borrowed from the field of physical fitness and athletic competition.  You know, back in the first century, when this was written, sports were just as popular as they are today.  And with the Olympics going on now, and this being the centennial anniversary of the modern games, there’s been a lot of focus on how the Olympics were conducted in ancient times – in the very days that the letter to the Hebrews was written.  I’ve seen several news articles about it, and even something on the History Channel.  It’s fascinating stuff.  And it’s remarkable how little some of the things have changed in two thousand years: the races, the jumping, the wrestling, the discus and javelin, all pretty much the same.  Of course, there are other noteworthy differences.  One major difference that you may be aware of is that back in those days there was no high tech sports clothing and gear that helped give an advantage to the athletes.  As a matter of fact, for most sports events the competitors went without clothing at all.  It may interest you to know that our word “gymnasium” comes from the Greek word “gymnos” which means “naked”.  So the word gymnasium really means “a place where people are naked”, specifically for sports; and “gymnastics” means “getting naked and nasty”—No!  I’m only kidding; it means “sporting events held in a gymnasium”.  And please understand that in those days only men were allowed to participate or even to watch Olympic competitions – so there was nothing particularly scandalous about it.  Besides, just think of all the funky gym socks and sweat clothes they got out of having to wash. 

 

            Anyway, what the author of Hebrews is asking you to do is to think of your faith as an athlete, an athlete preparing to compete in a grueling contest of strength and endurance like those held at the Olympic Games. And we all understand the kind of dedication and commitment it takes to even think about reaching that level of competition.  The men and women who make it to the games have undergone years of intense physical discipline, building up their bodies and perfecting their technique, to get themselves to the absolute pinnacle of performance in their events.  That’s the way we should approach building up the person of faith in each of us because in fact, in our day-to-day struggles with sin, and in life’s crisis events, it’s the strength and performance of our faith that determines whether we experience the thrill of victory or the agony of defeat. And when our faith is under stress, it’s as unclothed as an ancient athlete.  At other times, when life is going along smoothly and there’s not a lot of stress, between events you might say, we can cover our faith up – and we do. We can even make it look bigger and more fit than it really is, just like certain clothes, the way they’re cut or the design on the fabric, can improve someone’s physical appearance. But when faith is being put to the test, all those visual illusions and tricks we use have to come off, and naked faith alone – that person you saw in the spiritual mirror, is who must run the race. That’s why we need to build that person up.

 

            And to encourage us, the author of the Hebrews reminds us of the great heroes of faith:  people like Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Samuel, David, and many others who by their faith accomplished great things – and it needs to be said that they endured and suffered horrendous setbacks and tragedies but it was their faith that carried them through. These are the Gold Medal winners of faith, the guys whose pictures are on the church’s spiritual Wheaties boxes (or in some cases on our stained glass windows).  They are there to inspire us with their stories:  how by their faith and trust in the promises of the Lord they were enabled to do the things they did.  And please understand that they were people just like you and me.  They had all the same sins and weaknesses, the same fears and concerns that we do.  Nor were age and physical condition factors.  Abraham was one hundred and ten when his faith was put to its greatest test, and David was a mere child when he killed the giant Goliath.  Anyone of us can have the same kind and quality of faith that they did.

 

            Which is why the writer of Hebrews enjoins us, “Since we are surrounded by this great cloud of witnesses” – the Bible’s rich roll call of heroes of faith who show us by their examples that we can do what they did – “let us cast off the excess pounds of spiritual flab, and throw away the bulky clothes that we use to conceal the true person of faith within and try to make him look better than he is, and let’s stop fooling around with these silly little sins and temptations that are always getting in the way – and let’s get down and do some serious spiritual training so that we can run with perseverance the course that’s been set out before us.”

 

            How do we do that?  He says, “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down on the right hand of the throne of God.”  Remarkable: in that one sentence Jesus Christ is presented to us as the creator of our faith, that is, the one who gives faith to us; he’s the object of our faith, that is, who it is and whose actions we are to believe in; and he’s the example of our faith, that is, the one whose life best demonstrates what real faith looks like in action.

 

            Now, we understand that Jesus, God’s Son, creates our faith – he created everything.  But specifically, faith is created in us when we hear the Word of God; and we know that the Word of God is not a thing, it’s a person, namely:  God’s Son. And we also understand that Jesus is whom we believe in.  His coming into this world to take our fallen flesh, his going to the cross to die for our sins and make everlasting atonement for us, and his resurrection to life to proclaim that forgiveness, life, and salvation belong to all whose trust is in him – these things are the content of the faith.  But it’s not very often that we think of Jesus as our example of living a life of faith.  We tend to think, “Well, he is God, after all, and so he knew before hand everything that what going to happen.  And so, in a sense, when he came into this world he was just sort of playing a role – going through the motions when he went to the cross.”

 

            But that’s just plain wrong.  No, in order for Jesus to die for us, to be our true substitute, he had to be exactly like one of us – with all the same human limitations and weaknesses that we have.  The only difference is that he had no sin.  And so we understand that though he was God, that he set aside his divine powers and prerogatives – choosing not to use them for his own benefit (though he did use them for the benefit of others from time to time).  What that means is that when Jesus faced his trial, his bloody passion, his crucifixion and death, that he went to them armed with naked faith alone.  His faith was in the promises of God that he knew from reading and hearing the Old Testament Scriptures – and not from special divine insight and foreknowledge that he had.  When he was nailed, naked to the cross and exposed to the full fury of God’s wrath against our sin, when he was receiving no sign of mercy or compassion, his faith did not falter or waver.  Instead he was over and against everything he was feeling and experiencing trusting in such words as these that the Psalmist had written:  “You will not abandon me to the grave nor let your Holy One see decay.” So please understand that though in Jesus God died for your sins, that God died as a man – and not a “superman” drawing on some reservoir of divine strength – but a man, a person, like you or me, who had a super strong faith – the same kind of super strong faith that is available, that is attainable by people like you and me.

 

            Ah then, how do we lay hold of such faith?  The text before us suggests two ways.  The first is what we would expect of any athlete in training:  a steady regimen of diet and exercise.  Knowing that faith comes of hearing the Word of God, and that Jesus is the creator, strengthener, and object of our faith, it only makes sense for us to build our spiritual training program on regular and repeated exposure to the sacred Scriptures – and specifically using Christ Jesus and his Gospel as the key to understanding them.  We do this, of course, through weekly worship, attendance at the Lord’s Supper, and in private and family devotions and prayer.  These are our spiritual gymnastics.  And where the text speaks of “making a level path for your feet so that the lame may not be disabled”, what’s actually described is a rut in the road worn by wagon wheels.  The idea is that by your repeated practice of spiritual disciplines, worship, Bible reading, and prayer, that you create for yourself a habit that is deeply impressed upon you, that has ridges keep you from straying so that you could walk it in your sleep or when you’re spiritually injured and just sort of limping along.  I might add that an athlete who’s training for serious competition always tries to push himself beyond comfortable limits.  There’s always more to learn about our faith.  And there are countless opportunities to go to the spiritual weight room and pump up:  Bible studies that are offered, books you can read, that are able to move you to a deeper and stronger faith.

 

            The other way the text mentions to grow stronger in faith is to submit ourselves to the Lord’s discipline.  You know, if you were serious about competing in the Olympics, you’d have to hire a skilled and knowledgeable trainer.  And what you would pay this person to do is to push you beyond what you think are your limits.  The trainer would drill you with no apparent mercy, critique every minor flaw in your style, stance, and form, he would make your life a living hell – but by so doing he would extract from you your best possible performance.  And when it was done, you’d respect and thank your trainer for it – for being someone you very nearly learned to hate.

 

            Well, it happens that the Lord treats us exactly the same way:  like a trainer who wants to bring out the best in us.  And he does it by bringing hardship into our lives.  He presents us with challenges that we cannot handle, tests we cannot endure, and with loses and sorrows that are too heavy for us to bear. He does it because it is precisely when we cannot do it with our own strength and power that must rely on faith – on naked faith in him and his promises.  It is those times of intense stress, those spiritual marathons that are so painful and that seem to have no end, that push us to higher levels of faith and confidence.  Then, as the text says, after we have had to endure the hardships and our faith is strengthened, we are able to produce the amazing results:  the harvests of righteousness and peace that the Lord seeks to bring into our lives.  That’s how the heroes of faith became the heroes of faith.  And so when we face such hardships, we are not to become angry at God, or bitter and sullen like spoiled children who when having received a well deserved spanking, scream that they hate the “offending” parent; no, instead we are to recognize that the Lord is through trial and suffering bringing us to perfection – perfection which is obtained by pure and holy faith in the Lord Jesus who also suffered before entering into glory at his Father’s right hand.

 

            That’s where the great heroes of faith have already gathered to receive their crowns of gold – and that’s where we too will be crowned with everlasting life after we have run our course in faith.  May we then “strengthen our feeble arms and weak knees” with a rigorous and thorough program of spiritual gymnastics, and humble ourselves under the Lord’s discipline, that we too may run the course set before us with perseverance and give thanks to God who gives us the strength to win all things in his Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord.  Amen.

 


Soli Deo Gloria!

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