Endurance
Sermon
Sermons on the Second Readings
Series III, Cycle C
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.
-- 2 Timothy 4:7
When my daughter, Hannah, was five years old we lived in Minnesota. Before she entered kindergarten, she had to take an entrance exam. Being the non-competitive but responsible parent that I am, I decided to help Hannah prepare for this test. I taught her how to count to ten -- in four languages. I taught her the colors by buying a box of crayons -- 64 count, including turquoise, magenta, and chartreuse. We worked on a puzzle of the United States with each individual state cut out so we could learn the names, location, and capital of all fifty. After six months of cramming, I felt she was ready for her entrance exam. My wife took her to the test and then phoned me with the results. Do you know what? They didn't ask her to count to ten in Japanese. She wasn't asked the capital of Wyoming. But she was asked, "What's this?" And they pointed to her shoulder. "What's this?" And they pointed to her hand. "What this?" And they pointed to a part of her body that she had never seen, had no idea what it was, and had to shrug her shoulders. It was her elbow. I had forgotten to teach her what an elbow was. Thankfully, she was still allowed into kindergarten.
I'm still doing this cramming today as Hannah is preparing for graduation from high school and getting ready for college. Can you do laundry? Can you manage finances? Do you know how to make grandma's special sauce? You want them to do well and be ready. These are things they should know. There are things we should all know whether it is entering kindergarten or college. On the top of that list is endurance.
What do you wish you hadn't quit? College? Do you wish you would have finished that degree? How about the piano? Do you wish you had not stopped those lessons? What about exercise? Did you give up too early? What about a job that would have led to something or a hobby that once brought you great pleasure? What do you wish you hadn't quit? A marriage? Do you wish you would have tried harder? What about God? Maybe you gave up on God long ago -- stopped praying, stopped believing, and now you are just going through the motions. What do you wish you hadn't quit?
Why did you quit? We all know the answer. It's the same reason we all quit. Because it was easy to quit. You didn't like taking tests so you quit college and got a job. You would rather go out and play with your friends than practice the piano. It was easier to walk out on the marriage than to sit down with that person and work it out. It was easier to sleep in on Sunday, read the paper, and drink a cup of coffee than to get the children up, fight the parking, and come to church. Come on, let's be honest. It's a whole lot easier to be a quitter.
I bet if you were to ask successful people about the secret to their success, one quality that would be consistent among them all would be endurance. In many cases, instead of taking the easy way, looking for shortcuts, or wanting instant success, they didn't quit. They were willing to delay gratification by making a conscious decision to endure the pain now in order to receive a greater reward later.
Many people, however, are wired differently. I'm told that there is a small box at Bell Laboratories. The box has one switch. When you turn the switch on, a skeleton hand comes out, reaches over, and turns itself off. That's all it does. It's wired to turn itself off. A lot of people are that way -- wired to quit. At the first sight of hardship, at the first hint that this will take time, I'll just turn myself off. No endurance. It's just easier to quit.
How do you find endurance? When you are at that quitting point, how do you move forward? When you are running the marathon and your body is screaming to quit; when your boss is a tyrant and you hate your job; when you've got one more exam, one more paper, and you are just spent; when you are having the same argument with your spouse for the twentieth time and you are getting nowhere; or when you've been praying for so long and haven't received so much as a whisper from God. How do you break through those quitting points when it would be a whole lot easier just to cash in, walk away, and quit?
For that, I want to turn to a favorite passage of mine in 2 Timothy 4:7. Paul is in prison awaiting his execution. He knows that the time of his death is soon. He has time to reflect on his life and writes with the deep contentment of one who has had endurance: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith."
Do you hear the contentment? Do you sense words of accomplishment? At the end of his life, Paul has no regrets. That would be great, wouldn't it? But you know that there were times Paul thought about quitting.
Five different times the Jewish leaders gave me thirty-nine lashes. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked. Once I spent a whole night and a day adrift at sea. I have traveled on many long journeys. I have faced danger from rivers and from robbers. I have faced danger from my own people, the Jews, as well as from the Gentiles. I have faced danger in the cities, in the deserts, and on the seas. And I have faced danger from men who claim to be believers but are not. I have worked hard and long, enduring many sleepless nights. I have been hungry and thirsty and have often gone without food. I have shivered in the cold, without enough clothing to keep me warm.
-- 2 Corinthians 11:24-27 (NLT)
How many times do you have to be tied to a pole and beaten to within an inch of your life until you call it quits? How many times do you have to be shipwrecked before you think, "There has to be an easier way"? How many times do you have to go hungry, be thirsty or cold, and say, "I am so out of here"? You know Paul thought about quitting often. But he didn't. He endured. Before he died, he left us with three keys to his endurance.
Fight The Good Fight
It wasn't just any fight. It was the good fight. It was a fight worth fighting. There are a lot of things we fight for, most of it is for pride and ego and greed. Those are not good fights. What is?
I'm thinking about an alcoholic I know who struggles each day wanting a drink but has not taken one for the past nineteen years -- he fights the good fight. I'm thinking about the lawyer in our church who adopted some children. To give them the time they need, she gave up her practice -- she fights the good fight. I know a couple who have reasons to go their separate ways but choose to do the hard job of making it work, every day -- they fight the good fight. I'm thinking about the person who has lost a child, one of the greatest fears of a parent, yet comes here every Sunday to praise, thank, and worship God -- he fights the good fight. I'm thinking about the college students with many opportunities to wander, many opportunities to slack off, and many opportunities to make bad choices when others around them seem to major in trouble -- but they don't. They fight the good fight. Paul says here, decide right now what is good, what is important, what is worth having, and then choose to fight the good fight.
Finish The Race
There are plenty of people willing to start something -- start a relationship, start a job, start an exercise program, or start a program. Starting is not the problem. It's finishing the race that takes endurance.
Problem is, Hollywood glamorizes quitters. Have you ever noticed how often on television or in the movies, the boss demands one more project, the tension builds, the music crescendos until finally the worker explodes, yells, "I quit," and slams the door and the crowd cheers? Wouldn't that be great? I want to have that moment with the drama, the music, with that flare. Or the marriage that explodes with nasty words, clothes thrown out the window, and a dagger in the back -- that's the way I would like to leave, with a scene. Or the college student who is overwhelmed so he blows it off, parties, and we think that looks a whole lot more fun than the library. Hollywood glamorizes the quitter who has no endurance. They focus on that exhilarating moment -- "I quit." They don't show the worker now in the third month of being unemployed and staring at an eviction notice. They don't show the fallout and pain from a broken home. They don't show the college student kicked out of school and now flipping burgers and drinking his way through the weekend.
Paul begins by saying that this is a good fight, something worth the hardship. Now finish it. Finish the race. Finish strong. How? By being a person of faith.
Keep The Faith
This one is hard, isn't it? Keeping the faith in the midst of the storm. Keeping your trust even when you think you are walking this path alone. Keep the faith. Let me be honest with you, this is difficult. I think of my ministry when the demands are so high and I think, "Am I the right person for this job?" It would be easier to not to finish. It would be easy to lose faith.
How many times did Jesus think about quitting? -- when they pulled his beard, sunk thorns into his scalp, beat him, and nailed spikes through his hands and feet. How many times did he think, "I can't do this. I want to quit. Surely there has to be an easier way, God, than this."
But he didn't. He endured. He fought the good fight -- and what made it good and worthwhile was you. You were worth the fight. He finished the race -- the last words he breathed on this earth were, "It is finished." And he kept the faith -- "Father, into your hands I commit my soul."
Endurance is something even more important than knowing that this is an elbow. It means to fight the good fight, finish the race, keep the faith. Why? For the prize; delaying gratification now for even greater pleasure in the future. Paul always had the end in mind. He wanted the prize. He wrote, "The crown of righteousness that the Lord, the righteous judge will give me on that great day of his return." Then he looks right at you and adds, "And the prize is not just for me, but for all who eagerly look forward to his glorious return." Endurance is more than just sticking to it -- it's keeping your eye on the prize. Amen.
-- 2 Timothy 4:7
When my daughter, Hannah, was five years old we lived in Minnesota. Before she entered kindergarten, she had to take an entrance exam. Being the non-competitive but responsible parent that I am, I decided to help Hannah prepare for this test. I taught her how to count to ten -- in four languages. I taught her the colors by buying a box of crayons -- 64 count, including turquoise, magenta, and chartreuse. We worked on a puzzle of the United States with each individual state cut out so we could learn the names, location, and capital of all fifty. After six months of cramming, I felt she was ready for her entrance exam. My wife took her to the test and then phoned me with the results. Do you know what? They didn't ask her to count to ten in Japanese. She wasn't asked the capital of Wyoming. But she was asked, "What's this?" And they pointed to her shoulder. "What's this?" And they pointed to her hand. "What this?" And they pointed to a part of her body that she had never seen, had no idea what it was, and had to shrug her shoulders. It was her elbow. I had forgotten to teach her what an elbow was. Thankfully, she was still allowed into kindergarten.
I'm still doing this cramming today as Hannah is preparing for graduation from high school and getting ready for college. Can you do laundry? Can you manage finances? Do you know how to make grandma's special sauce? You want them to do well and be ready. These are things they should know. There are things we should all know whether it is entering kindergarten or college. On the top of that list is endurance.
What do you wish you hadn't quit? College? Do you wish you would have finished that degree? How about the piano? Do you wish you had not stopped those lessons? What about exercise? Did you give up too early? What about a job that would have led to something or a hobby that once brought you great pleasure? What do you wish you hadn't quit? A marriage? Do you wish you would have tried harder? What about God? Maybe you gave up on God long ago -- stopped praying, stopped believing, and now you are just going through the motions. What do you wish you hadn't quit?
Why did you quit? We all know the answer. It's the same reason we all quit. Because it was easy to quit. You didn't like taking tests so you quit college and got a job. You would rather go out and play with your friends than practice the piano. It was easier to walk out on the marriage than to sit down with that person and work it out. It was easier to sleep in on Sunday, read the paper, and drink a cup of coffee than to get the children up, fight the parking, and come to church. Come on, let's be honest. It's a whole lot easier to be a quitter.
I bet if you were to ask successful people about the secret to their success, one quality that would be consistent among them all would be endurance. In many cases, instead of taking the easy way, looking for shortcuts, or wanting instant success, they didn't quit. They were willing to delay gratification by making a conscious decision to endure the pain now in order to receive a greater reward later.
Many people, however, are wired differently. I'm told that there is a small box at Bell Laboratories. The box has one switch. When you turn the switch on, a skeleton hand comes out, reaches over, and turns itself off. That's all it does. It's wired to turn itself off. A lot of people are that way -- wired to quit. At the first sight of hardship, at the first hint that this will take time, I'll just turn myself off. No endurance. It's just easier to quit.
How do you find endurance? When you are at that quitting point, how do you move forward? When you are running the marathon and your body is screaming to quit; when your boss is a tyrant and you hate your job; when you've got one more exam, one more paper, and you are just spent; when you are having the same argument with your spouse for the twentieth time and you are getting nowhere; or when you've been praying for so long and haven't received so much as a whisper from God. How do you break through those quitting points when it would be a whole lot easier just to cash in, walk away, and quit?
For that, I want to turn to a favorite passage of mine in 2 Timothy 4:7. Paul is in prison awaiting his execution. He knows that the time of his death is soon. He has time to reflect on his life and writes with the deep contentment of one who has had endurance: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith."
Do you hear the contentment? Do you sense words of accomplishment? At the end of his life, Paul has no regrets. That would be great, wouldn't it? But you know that there were times Paul thought about quitting.
Five different times the Jewish leaders gave me thirty-nine lashes. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked. Once I spent a whole night and a day adrift at sea. I have traveled on many long journeys. I have faced danger from rivers and from robbers. I have faced danger from my own people, the Jews, as well as from the Gentiles. I have faced danger in the cities, in the deserts, and on the seas. And I have faced danger from men who claim to be believers but are not. I have worked hard and long, enduring many sleepless nights. I have been hungry and thirsty and have often gone without food. I have shivered in the cold, without enough clothing to keep me warm.
-- 2 Corinthians 11:24-27 (NLT)
How many times do you have to be tied to a pole and beaten to within an inch of your life until you call it quits? How many times do you have to be shipwrecked before you think, "There has to be an easier way"? How many times do you have to go hungry, be thirsty or cold, and say, "I am so out of here"? You know Paul thought about quitting often. But he didn't. He endured. Before he died, he left us with three keys to his endurance.
Fight The Good Fight
It wasn't just any fight. It was the good fight. It was a fight worth fighting. There are a lot of things we fight for, most of it is for pride and ego and greed. Those are not good fights. What is?
I'm thinking about an alcoholic I know who struggles each day wanting a drink but has not taken one for the past nineteen years -- he fights the good fight. I'm thinking about the lawyer in our church who adopted some children. To give them the time they need, she gave up her practice -- she fights the good fight. I know a couple who have reasons to go their separate ways but choose to do the hard job of making it work, every day -- they fight the good fight. I'm thinking about the person who has lost a child, one of the greatest fears of a parent, yet comes here every Sunday to praise, thank, and worship God -- he fights the good fight. I'm thinking about the college students with many opportunities to wander, many opportunities to slack off, and many opportunities to make bad choices when others around them seem to major in trouble -- but they don't. They fight the good fight. Paul says here, decide right now what is good, what is important, what is worth having, and then choose to fight the good fight.
Finish The Race
There are plenty of people willing to start something -- start a relationship, start a job, start an exercise program, or start a program. Starting is not the problem. It's finishing the race that takes endurance.
Problem is, Hollywood glamorizes quitters. Have you ever noticed how often on television or in the movies, the boss demands one more project, the tension builds, the music crescendos until finally the worker explodes, yells, "I quit," and slams the door and the crowd cheers? Wouldn't that be great? I want to have that moment with the drama, the music, with that flare. Or the marriage that explodes with nasty words, clothes thrown out the window, and a dagger in the back -- that's the way I would like to leave, with a scene. Or the college student who is overwhelmed so he blows it off, parties, and we think that looks a whole lot more fun than the library. Hollywood glamorizes the quitter who has no endurance. They focus on that exhilarating moment -- "I quit." They don't show the worker now in the third month of being unemployed and staring at an eviction notice. They don't show the fallout and pain from a broken home. They don't show the college student kicked out of school and now flipping burgers and drinking his way through the weekend.
Paul begins by saying that this is a good fight, something worth the hardship. Now finish it. Finish the race. Finish strong. How? By being a person of faith.
Keep The Faith
This one is hard, isn't it? Keeping the faith in the midst of the storm. Keeping your trust even when you think you are walking this path alone. Keep the faith. Let me be honest with you, this is difficult. I think of my ministry when the demands are so high and I think, "Am I the right person for this job?" It would be easier to not to finish. It would be easy to lose faith.
How many times did Jesus think about quitting? -- when they pulled his beard, sunk thorns into his scalp, beat him, and nailed spikes through his hands and feet. How many times did he think, "I can't do this. I want to quit. Surely there has to be an easier way, God, than this."
But he didn't. He endured. He fought the good fight -- and what made it good and worthwhile was you. You were worth the fight. He finished the race -- the last words he breathed on this earth were, "It is finished." And he kept the faith -- "Father, into your hands I commit my soul."
Endurance is something even more important than knowing that this is an elbow. It means to fight the good fight, finish the race, keep the faith. Why? For the prize; delaying gratification now for even greater pleasure in the future. Paul always had the end in mind. He wanted the prize. He wrote, "The crown of righteousness that the Lord, the righteous judge will give me on that great day of his return." Then he looks right at you and adds, "And the prize is not just for me, but for all who eagerly look forward to his glorious return." Endurance is more than just sticking to it -- it's keeping your eye on the prize. Amen.
