Remembering the Past...
        Planning the Future

    Park Christian Church
                                                                    (Disciples of Christ)

 February 15, 2009

Scripture:         1 Corinthians 9:24-27

Sermon:           “Shadow Boxing”

            There once was a man that made tents for a living.  You know, tents like folks camp in or live in from time to time.  Canvas, I suppose.  Canvas and wooden poles.  A good tent could keep a person comfortable for a short time.  And this man made a good tent.

            And since he made tents, this man probably had a good job for a short time.  You see, there was a big event happening just a few miles down the road from where he was staying.  Big event.  Athletes from all over were descending to compete in it.  Runners.  Boxers.  Javelin throwers.  Some of the finest human specimens in the world were arriving to see exactly who was the best.  And they all needed places to stay.  A good tentmaker or two would have come in handy.

            Now making tents as he did might have allowed him to rub shoulders with these remarkable competitors.  They were the Michael Jordans, the Tiger Woods, the Michael Phelps of his day.  And, perhaps, they had some of the same personal wanderings.  Still, they were sculpted masses of muscle.  Finely tuned instruments of sport.  Focused minds on their training and competing.  The best of the best.

            It was the Isthmian Games which took place every two years.  Most of these athletes could also compete in the Olympic Games.  And just to be in their presence was an awesome thing.  You ever stand next to a world-class athlete?  It’s something to behold.

            I stood next to the great Kareem Abdul-Jabbar one day.  He just towered over every person.  His hands were bigger than my head.  And the look in his eyes was hardened, intense, ready for battle on the hardwood.

            It turns out that you know this man who made tents.  We also call him the Apostle Paul.  Yes, the same one who went about starting churches in various places in the Roman Empire.  He also made tents for a living.  And about 10 miles down the road from the city of Corinth was where the Isthmian Games would take place.

            I can’t say for certain that our tent making preacher was actually there.  But what he wrote here sure would make sense if he did.  I imagine him reflecting on the sheer magnitude of these renowned athletes as he wrote to the Corinthians, who were in quite a mess in that church.  He’d do that from time to time.  He’d take an example from people around him and use them to point out a certain way of looking at how to be a Christian, or how to be a church.

            You remember when they locked him up in prison.  So, he’s there in the jailhouse, surrounded by guards wearing the armor of a soldier.  And then he’d write a letter to the believers in Ephesus because he couldn’t get there himself.  The armored guards are on the other side of his cell door.  And he wrote, “Put on the whole armor of God, so that you might be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.”  There was an example of a belt, you know.  And there was a breastplate.  Shoes, of course.  A shield and a helmet.  Finally, Paul meditated upon what the sword of a believer would be.

            Now, here to the Corinthians, he’s talking about athletes.  I think he must have witnessed those games.  Maybe he made tents for the athletes.  That would make sense.  The folks over in Corinth sure knew what those games were all about.

            Read this with me.  Chapter 9 of Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians.  Look there in verses 24 through 27.  If you want to find it quickly turn to page 229 of the New Testament in the pew Bible.

            Do you not know that in a race the runners all compete, but only one receives the prize?  Run in such a way that you may win it.  Athletes exercise self-control in all things; they do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable one.  So I do not run aimlessly, nor do I box as though beating the air; but I punish my body and enslave it, so that after proclaiming to others I myself should not be disqualified.

            Used to be that I could actually run a little bit.  And from time to time I’d try to run in a foot race.  That was before my knees started creaking and, well, it just hurt too badly to keep doing that stuff.  But, I’d run in a race every now and again.  5 K and 10 K races, which is about 3 miles or 6 miles.

            A couple of years ago, however, I got it in my head to run a 10 mile race.  And run it I did.  It was really cool to finish the thing by running around the University of Louisville football stadium.  That’s where the finish line was.  And I did pretty well to finish it.  They gave me a t-shirt and everything.

            When I was done, I walked around for a few minutes.  Drank some water.  I considered that my time was better than I thought it would be.  And I was right proud of myself.  But, there was this whole other class of runners that had finished so far ahead of me that they were kicked back in their seats just watching as the rest of us did our best to finish.

            Really skinny, wiry specimens of the human body they were.  I mean they were runners.  Looked like they hadn’t had so much as a calorie in about 6 months.  A couple of these guys from Kenya, you know, they had won the race.  They ran 10 miles in about the time it took me and a whole lot of other folks to run 4 miles.  Just breezing their way through the course.  Smiling, too!

            Now Papa John’s Pizza had sponsored this thing.  So, there was all kinds of good stuff to eat after the race.  And I wasn’t ashamed to eat pepperoni pizza at 9:30 in the morning.  I’d earned it, by golly.  But, I noticed these little Kenyan guys, and these other athletic sorts with their svelte bodies eating orange slices, granola bars, and all this healthy stuff.  I thought to myself, “Haven’t you earned a greasy slice of pizza?”

            But, they were serious about running.  They take care of their bodies like an auto aficionado babies a 1962 Corvette Stingray.  Keep the oil changed.  Only use premium gas.  It’s washed and waxed and nothing happens to it that its owner doesn’t consider with great care.  That’s how a great athlete approaches all of life.

            There was this one guy.  Had to be in his seventies.  He was doing the orange slice and granola bar thing, too.  But, there was something odd about him.  His legs looked like…they were!  He was wearing women’s panty hose!  I just had to know what that was all about.  I said, “sir, you’ve got the best legs of anybody out here.”

            And he said, “well I’ve been at this for a long time, son.  And I’m wearing a pair of the wife’s leggings.  Plus I’ve got Vaseline up and down each leg.  Have to keep everything working like it used to…and I need a little help here and there.”

            I don’t know what any of that has to do with the gospel.  Vaseline and such.  That’s the trouble with metaphors, I guess.  You can take them too far.  But, I like Paul’s metaphor.  To what shall we compare the life of faith?  What image is useful for us?

Remember he said to some other folks that it is like that of a soldier.  Complete with very considered pieces of armor and weapons, the life of faith should be a rigorous thing.  There’s something we can learn from the military life in what faith is all about.  It’s a commitment, too.  A commitment to something bigger than yourself.  It’s not exactly the same thing having faith and being a soldier.  But, it is like…It is like a soldier.  You can learn from that.

Jesus was a better storyteller than Paul.  I’m just sure of it.  “Consider the lilies of the field!”  I love that one.  You and I ought to know that God’s taking care of us all of the time.  The lilies of the field have all they need.  How much more important are we?  Jesus had great metaphors.  “You brood of vipers!”  That’s what he’d say.  “How I’ve longed to gather the children of Israel together like a mother hen gathers her brood.”  He could turn a phrase, Jesus.

            Paul’s not as good at it.  But, this is a classic.  “Don’t you know that in a race the runners all compete, but only one receives the prize?”  We’re not all athletes.  Just like we’re not all soldiers.  But, you can learn something there.  And runners only end up with a t-shirt.  The really good ones get a medal and a few endorsements.  Used to be that they’d get a wreath to wear on their head.  I read this week that those wreaths were usually made from stale celery stalks!  So, how much greater is our reward of an imperishable wreath, life eternal in the presence of God’s goodness and holiness?  That’s a good metaphor!  Especially for Paul, who frankly can’t ever seem to get to the point of things.

The life of faith…it is like an athlete—a runner or a boxer.  Just watch them sometime and you’ll be amazed at the lessons you’ll learn for faith.  It’s a rigorous thing, I tell you.  It’s not something you take lightly.  Constant training is required.

            And anybody in this room can tell you what it’s like to do something you’re not in shape for.  Pull weeds in the front yard.  You’ll see.  You’ll be walking like you just got off a horse for days on end.

            Is that what an untrained life of faith is like?  If we don’t treat our souls and our spirits with the same kind of care and intensity that a runner, a real runner does, will we end up injured by all that life throws at us?  Let’s play with this metaphor here.  I think Paul might be saying that, too.

            I mean my brother-in-law got caught up recently in what we like to call “the economic downturn”.  Interesting choice of words.  Chris got “downsized” by a company trying to stay “in the black” as they say.  Now, he’s the only one earning a salary for a family of four.  And that’s some pressure.  But, he’s got this uncanny faith.  He’s committed to his church.  He sees the bigger picture.  He gives of himself to others in little ways and in large ways all the time.  And while we don’t talk about it, Chris is a man of prayer and study.

            He came home with the news of losing his job.  He sat down with the family and talked about it rationally.  He made plans for taking a retail job at the holidays if that’s what was required.  He helped the kids understand that Christmas might be a little smaller last year.  And he set out to update his resume and hit the ground in search for the next job.

            I’m guessing that all of this spiritual training in his life had something to do with it.  But, he was not going to be defeated!

            Now, what does all of that really look like?  Going out and running five miles a day isn’t really going to be our method of training for the life of faith.

            That’s where Paul gets really creative in this thing.  You’ve got runners.  They’re athletes.  You see how they pattern their whole lives towards the goal.  Now, think of a boxer.  A pugilist.  I love that old world, pugilist.  You watch them train.  It looks like they’re just beating the air sometimes.

            But, that’s shadow boxing.  In the boxer’s mind is the opponent.  He’s not beating the air.  He’s practicing for the prize fight.  His eyes are on the prize, as the leaders of the Civil Rights movement were found of singing.  Shadow boxing.

            For Paul it may have looked more like this.  His fists were not clenched, but his hands were open.  His arms were not swinging, but they were extended out in the sign of the cross.  His head was not weaving and bobbing, but was tilted towards the sky.  For you and me it might be on bended knee beside the bed at night, hands together, and head bowed down in reverence to Almighty God.  The first Christians would pray, physically, as though they were with Christ himself in that moment of self-giving and ultimate faith.

            It’s not running around aimlessly.  It’s not beating the air.  It’s deep, rigorous training for the life we are called to live in a messy, confusing, painful world.  And there’s something to it.           

Rev. David James Brown

Park Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)