It’s All in the Finish

This weekend Summer Olympic competition begins and many of us will spend hours in front of the TV – or online – watching hundreds of the world’s greatest athletes battle for gold, silver and bronze in their respective events. Most of these will be thrilling to watch, but whether it’s swimming, track and field, basketball, soccer, field hockey, synchronized swimming or some other sport, there will be a common theme:

All that matters is how you finish.

Often as we observe the events, we will see athletes make a fast start, leading the field of competitors whether in the 1,500-meter run, a sprint, 200-meter butterfly, marathon or cycling. The question will be, can the athlete maintain the pace and be there at the finish?

Watching the recent U.S. Olympic swimming trials, for example, commentators frequently spoke about a swimmer’s “strong finish.” He or she might not lead early in the race, but the athlete had the capacity to finish strong, many times coming from behind to win. A gymnast might look great at the start of her balance beam routine, but will she bobble and fall off, or fail to nail her dismount? To win, a good start must be followed by an equally good finish.

This blog is not about sports, but often the world of athletics provides good metaphors for everyday life. Finishing well is one of them.

Apart from the Olympics, we’ve seen other examples. Joe Paterno, legendary football coach at Penn State, was regarded by many as the sport’s best ever. But revelations he apparently had knowledge of a former assistant’s sexual abuse of young boys over many years will forever tarnish his image. His statue has been removed. Decades ago another exceptional coach, Woody Hayes at Ohio State, also had commendable life accomplishments diminished when TV viewers witnessed his final act on a football field, a frustrated punch thrown at a player from the opposing team.

In “real life,” we also see examples of people that don’t finish nearly as well as they started: Couples exchanging wedding vows, aglow with love for one another, filing for divorce a few years later. A promising young employee that initially seems an up-and-coming star for the company, whose job performance lapses into mediocrity. A respected business executive caught up in ethical shortcuts. A nationally known political leader’s moral failures being exposed.

It’s easy to start well. You’re filled with excitement, enthusiasm and energy, confident of success. But as weeks, months and years pass, the challenge of persevering, the reality the task at hand demands endurance and daily rededication, can discourage and dishearten. The temptation arises to compromise cherished values and principles. A strong finish is no longer assured.

That’s why, perhaps with a sigh of relief, the apostle Paul wrote at the end of his life, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7). He wasn’t writing about an athletic competition – he was referring to victory in “the game of life.”

Through the years I’ve observed many people also start fast spiritually, but slow down as they near the finish line. Sometimes they drop out of the race entirely. But I’m thankful for many examples of men and women I’ve known that finished their race in the faith – and finished well. Every day they inspire me to do the same.

So as you watch some of the Olympic events over the next couple of weeks, take a moment: Ask yourself, “How am I doing in my own race? Am I doing what I need to do to finish well?”

Hopefully your answer will be a positive one. But if not, what needs to change?

Of Statues, Reputations and Legacies

Most of us vividly recall news coverage of Saddam Hussein’s statue being knocked down in Baghdad, Iraq in 2003. For decades Saddam had ruled the Middle Eastern nation, and the statue had stood in silent homage to his exalted position. In the end, however, his status was reduced to images of gleeful Iraqi citizens destroying that icon.

In the now-defunct Soviet Union, statues and pictures of Lenin and Stalin were removed in similar rituals. Once dominant leaders disgraced, their most tangible images forever swept from public view.

So it seemed intriguing when a friend recently posted this question on Facebook: “Do you think the Joe Paterno statue in front of Beaver Stadium should come down?”

Not to equate former Penn State coach Paterno’s alleged wrongdoings with those of Saddam, Lenin or Stalin, but I do see some similarities.

In each case, the men were the face of their nation (in the case of “Joe Pa,” the “Nittany Lion Nation”). They all were strong individuals, always in control, deferring to no one. And in each case, they allowed loyal followers to violate one of God’s foremost commandments: “You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath…” (Exodus 20:4) It could be argued that in the process, the first commandment was also broken: “You shall have no other gods before me” (Exodus 20:3).

This statue in Charleston, S.C. pays
homage to South Carolina statesman
John C. Calhoun. Since he's been dead
more than 150 years, it's unlikely
his statue is in any danger of having
to be removed.

Humanity loves erecting statues to honor celebrated leaders and achievers. On our recent vacation trip to Charleston, S.C., we saw statues of numerous individuals that played key roles in the city’s history. It’s appropriate to recognize noble contributions of dedicated and gifted leaders, but when it comes to putting up statues in their honor, we tread unstable ground – especially if the honorees are still living.

Statues typically take months, even years, to create. Reputations – and legacies – require a lifetime. But sadly, they all can be destroyed in moments – through bad decisions, unethical or immoral conduct, poor choices, or dark secrets suddenly revealed.

Maybe that’s why we’re advised to “avoid even the appearance of evil” (1 Thessalonians 5:22). Our reputations – and legacies – hang in the balance.

The Rutted Road to Finishing Well

This week I wrote about an American icon, Dr. Billy Graham, who marked his 93^rd birthday. Despite the debilitating effects of Parkinson’s Disease, the revered evangelist has remained steadfast in his resolve to live for Christ and proclaim Him to others. By all accounts, he is finishing well.

Also this week, another American icon, legendary Penn State football coach Joe Paterno, has been the focus of much attention. Unfortunately, the spotlight has been not nearly as flattering for “Joe Pa.”

The all-time winningest coach at the big-time college level, the 84-year-old Paterno is now facing harsh scrutiny and criticism. He failed to be more forthright upon learning of his longtime No. 1 assistant and once “heir apparent,” Jerry Sandusky, sexually abusing young boys over many years. New developments in this scandal seem to be unfolding by the hour.

Wednesday Paterno announced he will retire at the end of this season. In a formal statement, he expressed regrets about the sad drama and said, “I wish I had done more.”

“I wish I had done more.” That reminded me of the powerful film, “Schindler’s List.” It’s about Oscar Schindler, a prosperous businessman who undertook a courageous strategy to save as many Jews as possible from the Nazi concentration camps. Despite having intervened to save hundreds of Jews from certain death, in a closing scene he laments, “I wish I had done more.”

Unlike Schindler, who acted at great risk and personal cost (even though not a Jew), it appears Paterno did little more than the bare minimum. With almost mythical status and power in his community, the coach certainly didn’t need to wait for his athletic director or other officials to act. Legally, it seems, Paterno had covered his bases – but morally, he could have done more. Much more.

Now, because he didn’t, numerous young men will carry scars from their encounters with a predatory adult for years, even a lifetime.

But beneath the horror of this specific tale lies a profound truth: It’s relatively easy to start well – it’s finishing well that’s problematic. The road is rutted, filled with potholes, but it’s the course we each must follow. A noble life, characterized by kind and charitable acts, can still become derailed if we’re not careful.

It’s not a matter of being judgmental. Just as poet Robert Frost wrote, I still have “miles to go before I sleep.” And if my life has any meaningful legacy at all, it can’t be tarnished by stupid decisions – or indecision – even late in my life.

That’s probably why, at the close of his life, the apostle Paul wrote – maybe with a sigh of relief – “I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7).