Strong to the Finish
It was a hot dayTuesday, July 20, 1993, in Washington, D.C.as Vincent Foster sat in the Rose Garden.
That morning he watched as President Clinton announced his new FBI director.
Foster returned to his White House Counsel's office after the ceremony. He took care of some legal business, then talked with President Clinton,
his boyhood friend, for a few moments. He ate lunch that day at his desk.
A little after one o'clock, Foster left the office, telling his staff he would return.
He pulled his Honda Accord onto the streets of Washington, D.C., and drove to a national park on a bluff overlooking the Potomac River.
He got out, leaving his suit coat in the car. In his hand was an antique, .38 revolver.
He walked across an open field. Standing beside a cannon pointing out over the woods, Vincent Foster took his own life.
When President Clinton heard the news, he called together his staff to console them on the loss of someone that they all loved.
Then President Clinton said these words: "It would be wrong to define a life like Vincent Foster's in terms only of how it ended.
Clinton is right in one sense.
But the sad fact is that no matter how much Vincent Foster's friends, family, colleagues, and workmates try to put the end of his life out of their minds, how his life ended will always overshadow his memory.
Because how a life, a job, or a relationship ends defines and colors all that goes before it.
Consider the Seattle Supersonics basketball team of the previous two years. Two years ago they had the best regular season record in the NBA. But in the first round of the playoffs they were beaten by the lowest seed in their bracket, the Denver Nuggets.
Last year they were again one of the top teams picked to win the championship. Yet they were beaten in the second round of the playoffs. For the Supersonics, the last two seasons were not glorious successes. Because of how they finished, they were looked upon as failures.
Think of Judas. Judas decided to follow Jesus. Judas heard Jesus teach. He went out two by two with the others, healing the sick and exorcising demons.
Judas did a lot of disciple kinds of things. Yet he is remembered solely for how his relationship with Jesus ended.
How a life, or a relationship ends is absolutely crucial to everything that goes before it.
That is why Paul spoke the words of 2 Timothy 4:7 as he sat in a Roman jail, knowing that he was soon to be martyred for the faith. You sense the incredible relief in his spirit as he says, "I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day.”
I want to talk to you this morning about finishing the race.
In Hebrews 12:1 it says, "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders.” Paul is moving into a metaphor of running.
"Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance.”
There's that "P” word we don't enjoy very much.
"Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.
Heb.12:2-3 “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 at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
When I was in college, our Basketball team ran on the golf course. The chouches would go out ahead, placing flags on the course to show us where we were supposed to run. A certain color indicated "left turn. Another color meant "right turn. Another said "straight ahead.
There was a race marked out for us; and if we had any intention of taking home a medal, we had to follow the marked out course.
You can't look at a particular hill and say, "That hill just looks nasty. I'm not going to tackle that one today. I'll just skip around it. You have to run the race marked out for you.
So it is in the Christian life. God has gone before you.
He knows your end from your beginning.
He knows all the days of your life. In his great foreknowledge, he has gone ahead of you and planted these flags ahead of you. And the Scripture says, "Run with perseverance the race marked out for you.” Heb. 12:1
Each race is unique. Yet I tend to compare myself with other people. When my race seems tough,
and I want to feel sorry for myself, it's easy to look at someone else and say, "Boy, if I had his race to run, no problem. I could handle that.
If I had his money, I could run with perseverance the race marked out for me. I could run with perseverance.
If I had his health;
if I didn't have this disability.
We can rationalize to the point where we say, "It's okay for me to quit. I don't have to run with perseverance because my course is so much harder than that of other people's.
But God says, "I want you to run this race. This is what I hold you accountable for. Don't think about others. You just look at me. And together, we'll run your race.
If you're going to finish, you've got to keep running until you reach the finish line.
God didn't just send you to start this race.
He didn't just send you to begin a noble task or a noble relationship. God sent you both to start and to finish.
The start of the race is a wonderful thing.
Runners in the marathon are feeling strong and energetic.
They've done the right training for years.
They've followed a scientific plan prescribing what to eat and how much to rest.
They are strong. They're ready. They're like rabbits at the start of the race.
The gun sounds.
The crowd is cheering.
They take off.
There's electricity in the air.
When you start a race, you feel like a billion dollars. But when you get about sixteen miles into that marathon, it's a whole different experience.
You get blisters on your feet and feel like there's a knife in your side. Your legs are turning to oatmeal. Your muscles are screaming from the pain.
Often in life, we get down the road, and there's pain involved. We say, "This hurts, so it must not be God's will.
Do you see the fallacy here?
Pain does not mean it's no longer God's will. Sometimes the race God calls us to run is filled with pain.
But if God has called you to this, he wants you to run through the pain. God wants you not just to be a good starter. God wants you to be a great finisher.
Have you ever noticed that runners have a "kick?
A kick is a technical runner's term that means when they get to that last one hundred yards or so, the runner can still sprint.
No matter how much he's run before, he can sprint that last leg to the finish line and win that race.
God wants you to have a kick.
No matter what your circumstance, God wants you to finish strong.
Many of you saw the movie Chariots of Fire back about ten years ago. It was the true story of Eric Liddell, a man who ran for Scotland, then went on to become a missionary. You may recall that he refused to run on the Sabbath, forfeiting some of the awards he probably would have won in the 1924 Olympics.
Well, there was another scene in that movie that may have appeared like Hollywood fiction, but it was also true. One year before the pivotal event in the movie, Eric Liddell ran in a meet between England, Ireland and Scotland. He ran the 100, 220, and 440 events.
In the 440, he got off to a bad start. When that gun sounded, there was a lot of shoving to get in front to the inside lane, the advantageous position.
Liddell tangled feet with J. J. Gillies of England and tumbled to the track. He sat there dazed for a moment, not knowing whether he could get up, when the official screamed,
"Get up and run!
He jumped to his feet and took off after the pack, which was now a full twenty yards ahead of him.
In a quarter mile, that's a big distance to try to make up.
In his unorthodox style of running he took off after the pack.
He pulled into fourth place ten yards behind the leader, J. J. Gillies.
With forty yards to go, he pulled into third place, then second.
Right at the tape he passed Gillies, stuck his chest out, won the race, and collapsed on the track in total exhaustion. Medical personnel had to assist him off the track that day.
An article appearing the next day in The Scotsman newspaper said, "The circumstances in which Liddell won the race made it a performance bordering on the miraculous.
Veterans whose memories take them back years and in some cases longer in the history of athletics were unanimous in the opinion that Liddell's win in the quarter mile was the greatest track performance they had ever seen.
There's something glorious about getting up off the track after you've been knocked down and running again.
Win or lose, you didn't stay down.
Some of you have been knocked down.
Maybe Satan has tripped you up. Perhaps you have made some foolish decisions. Perhaps other people have done you wrong.
When we're down on the track we're embarrassed.
We're ashamed. At times we feel . We're depressed.
At times like this, we just feel like staying down on the track. But the only real shame is to stay down on the track.
God's word to you is, "Get up and run! Forget those who have wronged you. Forget what lies behind and run for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. You still have a race ahead of you.
Philippians 1:6 doesn't say, "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day you fail and flop on the track.”
It says, "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Jesus Christ.”
Sometimes we don't persevere because of "Heartbreak Hill.
There is another reason that we don't persevere. Sometimes we face "Heartbreak Hill.
In the Boston Marathon, there is a legendary obstacle called Heartbreak Hill.
Starting at mile thirteen of the Boston race course, there are a number of hills, climaxing at mile nineteen with Heartbreak Hill.
It's the longest, steepest hill in the race. What makes this hill even worse is that runners "hit the wall around mile eighteen or nineteen.
That is, their bodies have depleted the the muscles fill up with lactic acid.
The muscles are screaming for oxygen. And when you hit the wall, you just feel like you're going to die.
Heartbreak Hill tests runners to the very core of their determination and their strength.
There are Heartbreak Hills in life. Life is not on a level grade.
We have problems.
And at times we face Heartbreak Hill.
A daughter becomes pregnant out of wedlock. A loved one dies. We lose our job and suffer unemployment.
The pain of a divorce, a broken relationship. A financial catastrophe strikes. An emotional breakdown.
There may be people here this morning who are in the middle of Heartbreak Hill. Facing the most severe test of their life.
It is the Heartbreak Hills that test our faith and trust in the Lord to the very core of our being.
James 1:12 says to those at Heartbreak Hill, "Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial because when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.”
I keep putting one foot in front of another, but it's up to God to get me to that finish line. Hebrews 12:2 says, "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.”
He is the one who will get you to the finish line.
It was Monday night, August 3, at the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona, Spain. At the track and field stadium, the gun sounded for the 400 semifinals. About 100 meters into the race, Britain's Derek Redmond crumpled to the track with a torn right hamstring.
Medical attendants rushed out to assist him, but as they approached Redmond, he waved them all aside, struggled to his feet, and crawled and hopped in a desperate effort to finish the race.
Four years earlier he had also qualified for the 1988 Olympics in Seoul, Korea. Ninety seconds before his heat he had to pull out of the Olympics because of Achilles tendon problems. Following that injury, he had five surgeries. Yet somehow he had qualified again for this 1992 Olympics, and he'd just suffered a injury.
But he said to himself, "I'm not quitting. I'm going to finish this race. He worked his way, hopping, crawling at times down the lane.
A big guy wearing a T, tennis shoes, and a Nike cap that said Just Do It across the front barreled out of the stands, hurled aside a security guard, ran to Derek Redmond's side, and embraced him. He was Jim Redmond, Derek's father.
Jim was one of these sports dads who changes his whole life for the sake of his athlete child. He changed jobs. He moved to find the best training for his son.
Now, arm around his son's waist, Derek's arm around his dad's thick shoulders and neck, they continue down the track.
Mom and sister were watching this race back home on television. His sister, who was pregnant, went into false labor. Mom is weeping.
There, at the stadium, the crowd is standing, cheering. Derek and his daddy work their way around the track until, finally, arm in arm, they cross the finish line.
If that's the way an earthly father responds to his son who is determined to finish the race no matter what the price, how much more does God, our heavenly Father, run to the side of his son or daughter who says, "I'm finishing. I don't care how much it hurts. I don't care if I'm hanging on a cross. I'm finishing.
God says as much in Isaiah 46:34: "Listen to me. You whom I have upheld since you were conceived and have carried since your birth even to your old age and gray hairs, I am he. I am he who will sustain you. I have made you, and I will carry you.”
That's God talking. As he carries you, as you wrap your arm around him, God whispers in your ear:
"Stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.” (1 Corinthians 15:56).
And he embraces you, squeezes you a little tighter, and he whispers again, saying, "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Hebrews 10:35.
My prayer for you is that one day, like the apostle Paul, you will be able to say those words,
"I have fought the good fight.
I have finished the race.
I have kept the faith.