Riding Along with ‘Chariots of Fire’

The famous beach running scene from "Chariots of Fire"

A newsletter from Alistair Begg, a Scottish preacher with a wonderful radio ministry, recently prompted me to again watch the movie, “Chariots of Fire.” It was the first time I’d watched it in years, but as with other classic films, I never tire of viewing it.

In case you haven’t yet seen it (so sorry!), or you’ve forgotten the story line, it centers around a spirited competition between two stellar runners, Scotsman Eric Liddell, and Harold Abrahams, a man obsessed with achieving unparalleled success. 

 

Liddell, born in China to missionary parents, was preparing to return to the mission field there. However, he also was a fast, gifted runner, and did not believe that ability could be cast aside. He – like Abrahams – had aspirations for representing Great Britain in the 1924 Olympics. 

 

Eric Liddell assures his sister, Jenny,
of his commitment to missions.

In an iconic scene from the film that I referenced in my last post, Liddell talks with his sister, Jenny, who has expressed concern that his running is diverting him from his calling to serve as a missionary. He responds, “I believe that God made me for a purpose – for China…. But He also made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure.”

Then Liddell adds, “To give it up would be to hold Him in contempt. You were right. It’s not just fun. To win is to honor Him.”

 

Each time I’ve viewed the film, or thought about his words – even though they’re part of a movie script – I can’t help but wonder: Do we understand and appreciate God’s purpose for our own lives? And when we engage in what He has gifted us to do, can we feel His pleasure?

 

Contrary to what some might surmise, God is not some divine spoilsport, determined to keep us from doing the things we enjoy. Consider a fleet Thoroughbred horse – when it runs fast, as it’s designed to do, can you imagine it feels God’s pleasure? Or a physician whose life is dedicated not only to medicine, but also to serving others in God’s name. Do you think that doctor, in helping very sick patients back to health, feels God’s pleasure in the process?

 

But there’s another plot line in the film that struck me just as powerfully. Abrahams in a driven soul, constantly striving and desperately afraid of failing. When Liddell beats him in a race, he’s devastated. Even later, when he wins the Olympic gold medal in the 100-meter sprint, Abrahams feels empty and unfulfilled. At one point, he bemoans the fact that – for him – his entire life is defined by how he performs in a 10-second race.

 

Contrast that to Liddell, who opted out of the same event to stand firm in his convictions. Qualifying heats for the 100 meters were scheduled for a Sunday, and he refused to waver in his belief that he should not compete on the Sabbath. Instead, he was entered in the 400 meters, set for another day. Even though that was not his primary event, Liddell stunned the experts by winning the gold.

 

Afterward, the joy he felt was not simply the thrill of victory. He had honored his God, and saw an Old Testament promise fulfilled: “Those who honor Me, I will honor…” (1 Samuel 2:30). That was the last Olympic appearance for the man popularly known as the “Flying Scotsman,” but Liddell went on to the mission field in China where he faithfully ministered to people in northern China for two decades before his death in 1945.

 

Once, when asked if he ever regretted leaving the fame of athletic competition, Liddell responded, "It's natural for a chap to think over all that sometimes, but I'm glad I'm at the work I'm engaged in now. A fellow's life counts for far more at this than the other.”

 

Jesus addressed this perspective in His so-called “sermon on the mount” when He said, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:19-21).

 

So the questions remain for us to answer: Are we engaged in things that, when we do them, we feel God’s pleasure? And do we understand His purpose for us so that, when all is said and done, we’ve devoted our lives to the pursuit of things that count for much more than other things?

Wailing Voices and Joyful Noises

For the last several weeks, my wife and I have been “serenaded” by someone in a neighborhood next to ours who sits on his back patio, strumming his guitar and singing – actually, kind of wailing – old folk songs. I’ve never met the fellow, but he sounds like some of the outtakes that are featured as each season of “American Idol” begins.

 

I do have to give him credit. Even though he’s never going challenge the likes of Josh Groban, Kenny Chesney or Michael Buble, he’s obviously giving his all. He’s putting his heart into it, even though his vocal range leaves something to be desired.

 

Which reminds me of an admonition from the Scriptures. Psalm 100:1 says we’re to, “Make a joyful noise to the Lord,” and if you’ve ever heard me sing – in a church setting, or anywhere else – that’s the best I can do. If I were to audition for the church choir, the director would ask me to sing “far, far away” or solo – actually, so low that no one could hear me. So, “wailing Willie” has nothing on me.

 

But I wonder what God thinks. Other translations of the verse above are to make a “joyful shout.” The key word is not what kind of noise we make, but how it’s done – with joy. Philippians 4:4 admonishes us to, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” And in 1 Thessalonians 5:16 we’re told, “Be joyful always.” It’s not the quality of the sound, but what’s behind the sound – our joy in Christ – that matters to the Lord.

 

My musical vehicle of choice is playing the drums, a pastime I renewed this year. I was in the percussion section in my high school band, and kept a set of drums into my early adulthood, but then I sold them, leaving me with only the steering wheel on my car to drum on. Finally, something prompted me to invest in an economical set of electronic drums and I’ve had fun pounding on them. My wife doesn’t seem to mind, at least not too much. Especially since I can turn down the sound to minimize the disruption.

Like the guy down the hill who belts out his tunes as best he can, my drumming will never merit my entry into any talent contests. Even for senior citizens. But I enjoy it; it’s a way of relieving some stress in these very stressful times in which we live today. And I suspect the Lord doesn’t mind my “joyful noise” either.

 

Colossians 3:17 says, “And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” If God gives us a passion for something, whether it’s writing or drumming or playing tennis or knitting or gardening, and we do it in the name of the Lord Jesus to the best of our ability, I suspect that’s perfectly fine with the Lord.

 

I often think of the scene in the film “Chariots of Fire,” where Eric Liddell’s sister confronts him, questioning why he devotes time training for competing in the Olympics instead of preparing to become a missionary to China.

 

Liddell acknowledges his calling to mission work, before observing, “But God made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure.” Are you fortunate enough to have something that, when you do it, you feel God’s pleasure?

What We Can Learn from ‘Simon Says’

When was the last time you played the game, “Simon Says”? I’m not referring to the musical reality show judge Simon Cowell, or even the legendary vocalist Paul Simon. I mean the kids’ game when the leader tells us “Simon says” and gives instructions on what the participants need to do.

There are two requirements to succeed at “Simon Says.” If Simon says you need to do something, like standing on one foot, doing jumping jacks, or patting your head and rubbing your tummy at the same time, you better do it or you’re out of the competition. And if the leader gives a command, but Simon doesn’t say to do it, you better refrain or…you’re out of the competition.

I never figured out who “Simon” was, or why he wasn’t called Clyde, or Hilda for that matter, but we all knew that whenever Simon said something, we better pay close attention. If only we did so well in heeding what God tells us to do.

Francis Chan, a popular preacher and author on the West Coast, addressed this reality in a video. He noted that while the children’s game teaches us to be vigilant in obeying Simon’s instructions, too often we don’t feel obligated to do what the Lord says.

Many of us regularly read the Bible, all the while nodding our affirmation for what Jesus taught. We might pause to meditate on His message for a while, even memorize some verses that particularly resonate. But put it into practice? Not so fast! As Chan observed, “If Jesus says something, you don’t have to do it. You just have to memorize it.”

He quipped, it’s like telling a child to clean his or her room. Hours later, nothing has been picked up or straightened. When challenged, the child responds with a big smile: “I liked what you said. I memorized it – I can even say it in Greek!”

Alas, that’s not what God expects. As we’re told in James 1:22, “Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.” It’s easy to declare, “I love the Lord,” but is there evidence of that? We’re instructed in 1 John 5:3, “In fact, this is love for God: to keep his commands. And his commands are not burdensome.”

Yes, He has given us laws and commands to obey, but as the verse above points out, they aren’t burdensome – they’re not intended to make our lives miserable. In fact, their purpose is just the opposite. They enable us to experience the peace, joy and fulfillment God promises, and they also enable us to grow closer to Him in the process.

Eric Liddell, the central figure in the film of years ago, “Chariots of Fire,” was a world-class athlete who stood firm on his convictions about keeping the Sabbath holy, even when it cost him the opportunity to compete in an Olympic event he was favored to win.

Liddell’s motives were not self-righteousness or unbending legalism, but a desire to enjoy an intimate relationship with his Lord. As he wrote in The Disciplines of the Christian Life, “You will know as much of God, and only as much of God, as you are willing to put into practice.”

Years ago, I came across a verse that underscores this truth. The apostle Paul wrote, “I pray that you will be active in sharing your faith, so that you will have a full understanding of every good thing we have in Christ” (Philemon 6). My personal paraphrase is that when we put into practice what God has given us, He will give us more knowledge and understanding; conversely, if we’re not eager to use what we already have, why should He entrust us with more?

The Amplified Translation expresses this even more powerfully: “(And I pray) that the participation in and sharing of your faith may produce and promote full recognition and appreciation and understanding and precise knowledge of every good (thing) that is ours in (our identification with) Christ Jesus – and unto (His glory).”

When God tells us to do something, we can trust it’s for our good – and for His honor and glory. So just as we enthusiastically used to do what Simon said, we should be even more willing to do what Jesus says – because it’s not just a game. It’s real life, the life God intends for us.