Soldier On! w/Leroy Garrett   — Occasional Essays


Essay 42 (8-28-04)

DEATH IS THE FINISH LINE

I suggested in my last essay that we do ourselves a favor by talking about death. But not necessarily in the way one wag is said to have put it – "I don’t mind dealing with my own death, I just don’t want to be around when it happens." It is tempting to be in denial in reference to the one daunting experience that we are all sure to face. We are not only to realize that we will indeed be on hand for this inevitable event, but that our attitude toward it goes far in defining who we are and what we believe.

  I suggest a different way of looking at death. While it is as old as the New Testament itself, it has not gained the place in our awareness that it deserves – not even in the thinking of Christians. I refer to viewing death through a certain view of life – when life is seen as a race, death can be seen as the finish line. Not only does every race have a finish line, but the finish line is the point of the race. The athlete runs in the race to win, and he wins at the finish line.

  The secular mind can hardly have a "race" mentality – unless it be a "rat race" for material gain. Such a mind may want to live on and on in this world – assuming reasonable well-being -- but there is no meaningful finish line, and no hope beyond this world. So death has no positive value to the secularist. There is nothing to be gained. He doesn’t want to think about it or talk about it. He may fear it. And yet it is something he is sure to experience within a comparatively short time!

  Compare that to Paul as he neared the end of his earthly sojourn: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith" (2 Tim. 4:7). He meant he had almost finished the race. The executioner’s sword was imminent. Death was near at hand – and that was the finish line! He went on to say what it meant for him to cross the finish line: "There is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord the righteous Judge will give to me on that Day, and not to me only but to all those who have loved His appearing."

  The apostle often uses the metaphor of a race to describe the believer’s life – and the race always has a finish line and a reward. He sometimes uses the imperative: "Run in such a way that you may obtain the prize (1 Cor. 9:24). Drawing upon the Olympics, which were ancient even in his day, he writes: "Everyone who competes for the prize is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a perishable crown, but we for an imperishable crown" (1 Cor. 9:25).

  What a view to have of death – and of life! We are in a race – one fraught with pain, hardship, and persecution. But beyond the finish line there is an imperishable crown, one that fades not away. We can enjoy such a promise only by faith, and it is understandable if it is incomprehensible to an unbeliever.

  The word Paul uses for race – agon in Greek – means conflict or contest (with adversaries). Our English words agonize and agony come from this Greek word. We speak of "the agony of defeat," but there is also agony in victory – that is, the prize comes only through arduous effort. Agonizing pain is often reflected in the faces of those competing in the games. Some years back there was a shot put Olympic star who was known for his voluminous grunt when he released the heavy metal ball. Life can be that way in that we have our grunts and sighs alike. The spiritual life is well defined in a one-liner from Acts 14:22: "We must through many tribulations enter the kingdom of God."

  The agony of a race is in the competition – all those forces that seek to deter us in running the race. While Paul could write of "a great and effective door has opened to me," he added, "and there are many adversaries (1 Cor.16:9). These include temptations, not the least of which is the call of the world to be "normal" and not take religion all that seriously. Paul went so far as to say that we are not only at war with our own sinful nature, but even with demonic forces – "against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places" (Eph. 6:12). In writing to one church, Paul not only referred to his own "chains," but urged the congregation not to be terrified by their adversaries (Philip. 1:28).

  If there are demons against us, there is also that "so great a cloud of witnesses that encompass us," which led one concerned Christian writer to urge: "Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us" (Heb. 12:1). He urged his readers not to "become weary and discouraged in your souls." He points to the race that Jesus ran – "for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame," -- so, he told them: "Look to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith."

  If Jesus could run a race of suffering -- even death on a cross -- with joy, it was because he knew that beyond the finish line there was glory. It is a testimonial that thousands of martyrs could give – they prayed for their enemies, praised God, preached the gospel, and otherwise rejoiced in that they believed the promise, "Be thou faithful until death, and I will give you the crown of life" (Rev. 2:10).

  In a mix of metaphors, Paul speaks of his crucible with full assurance of victory: "Therefore I run thus: not with uncertainty. Thus I fight: not as one who beats the air" (1 Cor. 9:26). We are not surprised at such certainty, but what follows seems to be a qualification: "But I discipline my body and bring it into subjection, lest, when I have preached to others, I myself should become disqualified." As the NIV has it, this means "disqualified for the prize."

  While he wasn’t planning for it to happen to him, is not the apostle saying that one might run in the Christian race in such a way as to be disqualified – and not receive the prize? This conforms to 2 Tim. 2:5: "If anyone competes in athletics, he is not crowned unless he competes according to the rules." These passages do not fit well with the Calvinist doctrine of "the perseverance of the saints" – that is, that the elect are unconditionally saved. Paul was of the elect and was writing to the elect, and he warned that the undisciplined might be disqualified and not receive the reward. Or as he told Timothy, the race has rules, which are not to be taken lightly, lest one not be crowned. Pray tell me, how could one make it plainer that that!

  I am saying in all this that if death is seen as the culmination of life’s race – a race that ends in resplendent victory – then it becomes a meaningful new beginning rather than a hopeless end. If we are really in a race that ends in our being gloriously crowned, then we don’t want the race to go on endlessly. The race has to end if we receive the prize – and death is the finish line.

  It can be made a parable.  If Jesus didn’t tell such a parable, the church can.

  The kingdom of heaven is like a man who runs in a race in order to receive the prize. Since the race is fraught with hardship and difficulty, and there are many adversaries, he disciplines his mind and body for the grueling ordeal. But he runs with joy in that he looks to the one who called him to the race, and keeps his eye on the finish line.

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