LC† Living in the Spirit: DAY 2

LC† Living in the Spirit: DAY 2: Image by Diana Robinson † A Greeting Answer me when I call, O God! Be gracious to me, and hear my prayer. (Psalm 4:1) A Reading...

The Early Days of Women's Running and the Early Church

While away on vacation I ran the Toronto Marathon.  At the race expo, I had the pleasure of meeting Kathrine Switzer; the first woman to run the Boston Marathon with a bib number.   That was in 1968, when women were not allowed to run the race.  Inadvertently her name was overlooked as she registered with the men’s team, to which she belonged, from Syracuse University. Over the rest of vacation, I read her memoire of the early days of women’s running.

In the early days, everything was unknown territory.  Track and field events let women run up to 800 metres, but that was it.  The conventional wisdom was that women’s bodies simply could not endure more, and what woman would want to run more anyway.  Kathrine did.  She loved running. As Kathrine trained for unprescribed distances, always with another runner, she continually ran in fear, that, all of a sudden, her body would stop, not being able to take another step. Experts at the time said that running long distances would make women’s baby making parts fall out.  Imagine that.

Kathrine was running in unknown territory…she was outside the box, in a wilderness, where there was no scientific research, and no studies or books to consult.

The year she ran Boston, she ran with her coach and two other male teammates. The other runners were skeptical until they saw that she had trained; this wasn’t a publicity stunt.  The runners encouraged her, supported her, protected her from the crowd and the press.  Particularly she drew negative attention from women who shouted the nastiest of insults. Her teammates pushed aside the raise organizer who tried to remove her from the course.   Fellow runners showed respect; invited her to run with them again; among the runners there was love one for another.

Following this race, running clubs and university track teams started to host longer races for women to participate in.  Such clubs held their events at schools and in small town America, by doing so, they grew small town spirit and curiosity.  People began running just to try it---- it was a sport that didn’t cost a lot of money (there were no fancy shoes in those days).  Businesses provided items free of charge, householders set up water stations, school children handed out cookies; there were plenty of volunteers, spectators, runners, mentors. The running movement grew quickly.

By 1972 women could officially run the Boston marathon. This didn’t mean that in a twinkling of an eye everyone was on board, that attitudes changed instantly.  It took another 12 years for those passionate about running to convince society and the powers that be, that it was safe for the women’s marathon to be added to the Olympics; that was 1984.

A seismic shift has happened since 1972 to today. That first official race had a handful of women runners; today registrations for half-marathons across the country are over 50% women; those running the full marathon grow in numbers as well.

I tell this story because for me it reflects the feelings and nature of Peter’s story from the book of Acts.

Peter is in unknown territory.  When he goes to Cornelius’ house –that of a non-Hebrew- he is setting aside conventional wisdom, turning over cultural beliefs, and disobeying laws that he has practiced his whole life. Everything is changing and there is no how-to manual for guidance.

There were plenty of nay-sayers. There was lots of debate and arguing about how Jewish one needed to be before one could be a Jesus’ follower.  There were people, like Saul the pharisee, who persecuted Jesus’ followers – taking them off the course; killing their passion to share the Good News.

In the early days of the Jesus’ movement those who were committed were very committed.  They were passionate in sharing the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection, and in loving one another. And in doing so, their numbers quickly grew. Every other day it seemed, there were a thousand more in the community.

I once heard someone say: The Bible is the story of human beings figuring out those whom God has already included.  Would you like me to repeat that? The Bible is the story of human beings figuring out those whom God has already included.

The day that Peter went to Cornelius’ house he realized that God had already included Cornelius; God loved Cornelius filling him and his household with the Holy Spirit, just like Peter and the disciples had received at Pentecost.  Completely mindboggling!

Radical love. It costs something. 

For Peter and his friends, it meant being pushed out of the Synagogue, away from friends and family who didn’t change, who continued to stick by the law that had served them so well.  They lost their childhood faith, to accept a new interpretation of the faith they had held so dear. In the end, many lost their lives, because they passionately shared the Easter story, and dared to love one another.

Radical love.  It costs something. It means the letting go of attitudes, allowing for change in perception; radical love is a seismic shift that goes into unknown territory.  A place where there is fear and apprehension, and then to courageously move outside known boundaries with curiosity, discipline, and passion.  When was the last time you did this, or we as a church did this, to share the Good News and to show love for another?

As Lutheran clergy we have been studying a book called, Canoeing the Mountains; Christian Leadership in Unchartered Territory.  The author, Ted Bolsinger, speaks about Lewis and Clarke, as they and their crew canoed across America to find a water route to get to Asia. Everything was fine, until it wasn’t.  The expedition ran into foothills and the Rocky Mountains.  Everything they knew to be true, dissolved in that moment.  There was no water route to the Pacific. Lewis and Clarke could have turned back but didn’t.  They adapted and changed, eventually reaching the Pacific Ocean (not in their canoes) and mapping out this new-to-them territory.  Ted describes this seismic shift – not unlike that of the first long distance women runners, or of Peter and the early Christians- as the place where the church is today.  We are in canoes, with clergy that have been trained to use canoes, and in front of us is the view of an immense mountain range.

We face unknown territory.

Growth of the running industry and the increase in running clubs, has been extraordinary over the past decade. As quick -- is the decline of the mainline church. I would hazard a guess that on a Sunday morning there are more runners than church goers.

Is that because they possess more passion? Demonstrate a more obvious sense of community – love for one another?  I wonder: Has the church’s passion fizzled out? Have we put ourselves comfortably on simmer rather than boil?

Perhaps church no longer expects enough? Dedicated runners are committed despite the weather or the terrain. Runners are disciplined, there is an expectation that it is going to hurt; there is potential for injury, one loses pride and ego- one gets over themselves and gains freedom; there is accomplishment, an exhilarating feeling for a race well run; there is benevolence in giving encouragement and advice when asked, a generosity of story telling, and an interest in hearing about other’s experiences…

When was it that you heard the church talked about in this way?

As people of God, we are in unknown territory.  Those things for which society once looked to the church, are now being found in other places… like Sunday morning long group runs.

This morning John’s Gospel pulls us back to reflect on Jesus’ last conversation with the disciples.  We hear a segment that gets repeated many times throughout the Last Supper: love one another. It started by Jesus washing the disciples’ feet as an example.  It was a radical action because it broke protocol, tradition was pushed aside, the disciples were made uncomfortable; perceptions were to shift.

We stand with canoes, looking at mountains.  We stand as a woman at the starting line of that 1968 Boston Marathon. We step over the threshold into a house considered unclean and eat with the residents. Facing uncharted territory, looking out at the unknown, God says to us three times: I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you [have] love [for] one another."