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."
