Raise your weary arms, steady your trembling knees: 21st Sunday OT

I mentioned Vince Lombardi last week, and I’m afraid I’m going to do it again. If he can win back-to-back Superbowls, he can be in back-to-back sermons. In case you don’t know, he was the legendary coach of the Green Bay Packers, winner of the first two Superbowls, the guy the Superbowl trophy is named for, at or near the top of anybody’s list of greatest coaches of all time in any sport, and a Catholic daily Mass-goer. Early one morning after he’d moved to Washington, a priest answered his doorbell and there was Lombardi, requesting that the 7:30am Mass be changed to 7:00am to fit his schedule better. Anyway, Lombardi once said “I've never known a man worth his salt who in the long run, deep down in his heart, didn't appreciate the grind, the discipline.”

"Man who can catch fly with chopstick accomplish anything." - Mr. Miyagi

I thought of that last week as we heard from Hebrews 12, and as we continue that passage this week I think of it even more. It’s all about training and discipline, and it’s using the language and imagery of athletics. Christians are referred to here as “those who have been trained.” What kind of training? The Greek word is γυμνάζω, the very same root as gymnasium. [There's some difference in meaning, but the connection is obvious]

However interested you may or may not be in athletics, we can all see the power of the comparison. Think of the most elite athletes, the best of the best: is there any better image of discipline and dedication? Think of the life of an Olympic hopeful. Every bedtime and rise-time, every meal, every day’s schedule is centered on the pursuit of one goal. Think of what she’s willing to sacrifice. Think of the suffering she endures by her own choice, by her own drive, the thirst for victory that comes from her gut and will pay any price to achieve it. 

St. Paul uses athletic imagery too, quite often, and he points out that all of this dedication and discipline is for an earthly crown that fades. If the athlete can be that focused and dedicated in pursuit of winning athletic glory, what should we be prepared to do to win eternal glory?

We weren’t all made to be Olympians, but we were all made - every single one of us - to be Saints. Are you as dedicated and disciplined in that goal as an Olympic athlete? Is it the one thing that defines each day, each decision? Are you willing to sacrifice anything, go through anything, to achieve it? Hebrews 12 asks, why not?

Someone asked Thomas Aquinas what it takes to become a Saint. He said, “Will it.” Want it! A Saint is someone who wants holiness more than anything. If you want holiness more than anything, and your life reflects that, then congratulations! You’re a Saint. Please pray for me and all the rest of us who aren’t there yet. I’d like to say I want holiness more than anything. But I compare myself to the picture of dedication that an elite athlete shows, and I realize that I don’t measure up.

"It would seem that a man, having the potency of impaling a drosophila melanogaster with a quill, would as a necessary corollary possess potency with no definable limit." - St. Thomas Aquinas

It’s like this, using the physical metaphor again: I see someone in fantastically good shape and I react with admiration and desire. I admire their achievement and I want that for myself. But only sort of.  If I really wanted it, I’d have it. It’s attainable, and I know exactly what it takes to get it. But I don’t do those things. So whatever I might say, I obviously don’t want it that much. Holiness is the same way!

You have everything you need to be a Saint. The only question is whether you want to be.

Now someone will remind me that holiness is not a personal achievement, but a gift from God, that it is all grace, that we can earn Heaven by no effort of our own but only by the free gift of Jesus Christ. That’s absolutely true, and never forget it. If our religion is about our own efforts and accomplishments, it isn’t Christianity. But that doesn’t mean we were created for a life of mediocrity and passivity. That doesn’t mean we claim Jesus as our Lord and then sit on the couch waiting to go to Heaven. We were made to run the race, to fight the good fight, to take up a Cross and follow the man Himself.

Whoever wrote the Letter to the Hebrews is a good coach. He doesn’t berate or belittle. These words don’t say “You’re pathetic, try harder.” They say, “It’s worth it, don’t give up.” When it isn’t going your way, remember that God chastises whom he loves. He disciplines those he calls his sons and daughters, like any Father worthy of the name.

“Discipline” might not be anyone’s favorite word. But it’s one of the really fundamental laws of life: the best things, the things most worth having, are only available to those who have discipline. Hebrews acknowledges that discipline isn’t fun while it’s going on, but it’s worth it. This is true in every area of life; it’s just one of the baseline facts. It’s one of those things that you can’t not know. If you can’t pass up the pleasure of indulging your appetite, you’ll never know the far greater pleasure of health and fitness. If you can’t go through the discipline of practice, you’ll never know the great rewards of singing or playing an instrument well. The greater the reward, the higher the wall before you get there. 

I’ve never been anything but mediocre as an athlete; I did beat about 23,000 people in a marathon one time. Let’s just leave it at that and not mention the 17,000 people who beat me. Anyway, when marathon training I had this mantra I’d keep in mind, especially after the 15-mile mark when it becomes very hard to remember why you ever wanted to do this. I remembered the goal and thought, “if it was easy, everyone would do it. And if everyone did it, I wouldn’t want to.” I saw a t-shirt that said “I love running - when it’s over.” That’s discipline: going through a small amount of sacrifice now for the sake of something greater. I’ve never been out for a run - whether in single-digit temperatures or triple-digit temperatures, rain or shine, one mile or twenty - that I regretted. It’s never happened. I’ve never put in the hours to practice up a great piano piece and then wished I hadn’t bothered. Never happened! You have your own examples. If I ask you to think of those things in your life that are most great, most worthwhile, I’m quite certain that you’ll be thinking of the things in your life that are most challenging. When it comes down to it, Lombardi had it right: we love discipline. It’s just that we sometimes settle for less.

Here’s something you can be sure of about God: God never settles for less. Not for you. Not for his own sons and daughters.

In most any great effort, there come moments of crisis and decision. There comes the moment when what began in strength has left you weakened, not sure if you can go on, not sure if you want to go on. And you will hear the whisper in your ear, “you’re pathetic, you’re hopeless, you’re a sinner, you’ll never win, give up, settle.” Call on Michael the Archangel to get rid of that demon. You are the sons and daughters of the Most High. You have what it takes. You have everything you need. Deep down there is something inside you that knows what it means to love the grind, the discipline. There is something inside you that knows you have one short life, and you would not spend it on easy mediocrity. “Hold up your weary arms”  - (Hebrews 12:12) - “Hold up your weary arms, steady your trembling knees, make straight the path you tread... so that which is flagging will grow strong again.”

I'll leave this to your own conclusions, but ask yourself if our Church hasn’t been under some discipline lately. Ask yourself if we haven’t been flagging. The Father chastises whom He loves! I read or hear most every day some explanation of what the Church needs to do, or how the Church needs to change, or what the Church needs today. Some of these discussions are worthwhile and some are not, but almost all of them miss the main point. What the Church needs today, as in every day, is Saints. So we’re weak, so we’re sinners, so we’re challenged, so what? Rattle off all the excuses in the world, and they all fall instantly into irrelevance, because at the end of the day we either want holiness or we don’t. So lift up your weary arms, Church, and steady your trembling knees, and make straight the path you tread. The injured limb will not be wrenched; let it grow strong again.