running commentary

I have been reflecting on Eric Liddell. His story is best known from the film Chariots of Fire which I am sure we will see a lot of in the lead up to London 2012.

He was a strong believer in Jesus and believed that competing in the Olympics on a Sunday was dishonouring to God. So instead of running in his favoured 100m he ran in the 400m. In the film we are led to believe that this decision was made at the Paris Olympics but in reality it was made several months beforehand when the schedules were announced. Eric Liddell spent the remaining months training for the 400m but only managed modest times.

As the race was about to start he was handed a piece of paper from one of the American team with the words: “He who honours me I will honour” and that inspired Liddell to run the race of his life. He won the race by running it flat out (it was normally run more like a middle-distance race with a sprint finish), knocked two seconds off his personal best and broke the World Record.

If you want to be inspired, watch this clip on Youtube.

The following year Eric Liddell left to become a missionary in China where he worked in Education and Medical missions before being captured by the Japanese in WW2 and interned in a camp. He died in the camp a few months before the war ended. One of the survivors of the camp, Norman Cliff described Liddell in his book as “the finest Christian gentleman it has been my pleasure to meet. In all the time in the camp, I never heard him say a bad word about anybody.”

In the film (and why haven’t you watched the clip) Eric explains to his sister about why he runs. “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure.”

What words would you substitute for ‘fast’ in your life? And when you use that gift, are you offering it as an act of worship? Do you sense God’s pleasure?

Be blessed, be a blessing

The Sports Coach stormed into the University Vice Chancellor’s office and demanded a raise right then and there. “Please,” protested the Vice Chancellor, “you already make more than the entire History department.”

“Yeah, maybe so, but you don’t know what I have to put up with,” the coach blustered. “Look.”

He went out into the hall and grabbed an athlete who was jogging down the hallway. “Run over to my office and see if I’m there,” he ordered.

Twenty minutes later the athlete returned, sweaty and out of breath.

“You’re not there, sir,” he reported.

“Oh, I see what you mean,” conceded the Vice Chancellor, scratching his head. “I would have phoned.”