Running for His Glory

Of the 200+ leftover race shirts I inherited a few days ago, 65 or so were leftover from the Nice (France) Ten Miler. Naturally, such a surplus called for a race!

I sent an email out on the running listserves, announcing a weekend ten miler, with shirts for all (supplies limited) and medals for the top three. So far, about 30 runners have signed up and most of them have already run. Seven of these runners are at another location, so I will be mailing their shirts today.

This morning, one of my buds in the unit came over to my office to gush soon after finishing his ten miler. He blew away his fastest previous time (finished in about 78 minutes). He credited in part to a list of questions I gave him after a disappointing half marathon (that I also always ask myself after a race (especially a poor one):

1) Have I been running enough?

2) Did I run/workout too much that I didn't leave time to recover?

3) Did I get enough sleep, drink plenty of water, and eat the right foods in the days prior?

4) Was I hydrating enough during the race with both water and Gatorade?

5) Did I eat snacks during the race to replenish my energy stores?

6) Did I start off too fast so that I bonked toward the end?

7) Was my goal time realistic?

8) Was my head in the game? Did I look at the clock too much or think about my legs too much?

He thinks the biggest improvement came from eating a snack during the race (#5). I think his biggest improvment came from his attitude (#8). Employing a few of these strategies from the list, he came in more confident (believing, as I told him, that one can become faster as they run). More important, he had just learned that his wife had finally gotten the job she wanted after years of trying and no success. He was grateful to God for this development, and at one point, laughed during his run.

Experientially, this soldier discovered one of the great secrets of running and theses of the book, Born to Run. For a remote tribe of elite ultramarathoners in a secluded canyon in Mexico, they never "went for a run"--they just ran. They didn't have a well-balanced diet, good shoes, or injury prevention plan--they just ran. And the few times they ran ultramarathons in the US, they psyched other runners out, not because of their feet, but because of their smiles. They delighted in using their bodies as they were made to be used--like children who run barefoot in grass at full speed at every opportunity simply because they can.

Eric Liddell, the Christian olympic runner took this line of thought to a higher plane when he said, "I believe that God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure."

There is something about running, when not done purely as an exercise, that quiets the soul before God. There is something about using this ingenuous, God-crafted contraption called the body--where a quarter of the bones exist in the feet--to explore His creation and marvel at His handiwork. I aim to run more according to this dictum: Speed does not preceed enjoyment; Enjoyment preceeds speed.

God tells us in 1 Cor. 10:31, "Whether you eat or drink, whatever you do, do it to the glory of God." When we use our created bodies, mind, and hearts for His glory and service, it is then that we can "feel His pleasure," and truly begin to enjoy Him forever. May God draw our minds to things above, where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God. When Christ, who is our life, appears, we will also appear with Him in glory (Col. 3).

Chaplain's Library: The Missing Piece

As I read through the stirring epilogue of Love's Executioner, by Irving Yalom, I realized that in the course of reading the book, I learned more about the world, the human person, and myself. But there was something missing.

You see, Yalom, views death as one of four primary issues at the root of all human problems. (His assertions on these root matters are found in his prologue, which is worth the price of the book.) As the reader progresses through his unbelievable array of case studies, it has not to reach the conclusion: Death is not merely a key factor in some cases, but in all cases. Over and over again, no matter what the intitial problems happen to be, there is a brutal confrontation with death, which reveals the meaninglessness of much of human life.

At some point, the job ends, the children leave the house, and a single person or couple is left with their waning years and more or less money. Thoughts of death are fought back, but cannot be contained. The crisis of this mental confrontation is drawn out earlier in the or more explicitly with the death of others, or the dissolution of family bonds. A familiar line in group therapy in explaining why it is important to not be alone in dealing with thoughts of death: It is much easier to know that there other ships sailing alongside of your own. Solitude only makes it worse.

And most issues, at root, wrestle with the question of life's meaning. Why? Because life will eventually end in death. Why should I lose weight? Work through marital difficulties? Get over another's death? Eventually, it seems that most people will settle into a depressed fatalism, religious belief, or frantic fight for their youth and invincibility. But if each of these are simply coping mechanisms, than none of them deal with the essence or meaning of death. More in a moment...

I am now a third of way through the book, Born to Run, by Christopher McDougle. Thus far, one of the great epiphanies of this book is that much of what makes a remote Mexican tribe elite ultramarathoners is the simple concept of love. They do not run for competition or prizes, but they run everywhere because that is what man was made to do, and they love it. The same is said of an Olympic Czech runner from the 1950s, who though running with hideous form and few supports, blew away all other world runners. He just loved to run. When the Soviet Union crushed the Czechs, they told this runner to either be the Soviet Ambassador for running or clean toilets the rest of his life. This man chose toilets.

Both Yalom and McDougle's books deal with meaty concepts: death and love, but do not explore the meaning behind them. Psychology can only approach death's door, turn around, and advise others on strategies of approaching it as well. It is not allowed to knock. Likewise, love is a wonderful concept, but it lacks a substantial core. Eventually the body breaks down. What love sustains us in those moments? To truly love letting our legs or minds fly under the glorious light of day?

Death has a cause: sin. It is universal in its scope and always carries suffering in its way. The only way to confront death is to understand it in its proper perspective, not merely cope with it. The Bible sets death in its proper place and then gives us the keys to approach it without fear, for Christ has removed its sting and victory for all who have faith in Him, by God's grace alone. This is not a coping strategy. It is a right understanding of truth, which infuses life with meaning and hope.

Likewise, love is what drove Christ to the cross--love for His sheep and love of the Father and His glory. Love is what conquers death (SoS 8:7-8)--not ours, but that of Christ. It is in Him that we live and move and have our being. It is this love that allows us to not merely cope with the looming shadow of death, but to live with profound joy in the light of day at the same time.

Prayer For a Soldier

Greetings, Friends.

I got the following email from one of my soldiers this morning:

My wife informed me last night that she has two spots on her cervix.  They did a biopsy and she gets the results on Friday and what the plan will be to treat her.  The Doc. Said she is in the "severe" category and they need to decide if they will just remove the spots, or do a full hysterectomy.  It runs in her family (her mother and aunt have both had hysterectomies) so she is very nervous.  Especially with me not being home.  Hopefully the surgery can be postponed until I get home from this deployment (if it is of no risk extra risk to her) because she works full time and cares for both kids.  Please just keep her in your prayers. 

The need for prayer here is pretty clear. This especially strikes a chord with me because of the scare with my dear wife and precious boy this past year. A man is much more willing and able to put his own life on the line than face the possible loss of his wife or child. When we're unable to protect those we are called to give our lives for, the agony of helplessness is paralyzing. I am sure it's even worse when a soldier is deployed and unable to even give his wife a hug, stroke her hair, and give her the comfort of a present love.

Please join me in prayer for this family--that God would give the doctors wisdom in this matter, restore this woman to full health in His providence, strengthen her as she cares for the kids (two year old boy and baby girl), give her husband hope in his helplessness and encouraging words for her, and draw them closer together before the throne of grace, where in Christ, they have every Spiritual resource at their disposal.

How the shadow clings to the Light! But it shall never overcome it. (John 1) Praise be to God.

Moving

By the end of the month, I'll be moving to a sister post in the same region of the country. A good number of my soldiers here are disappointed, especially the friend with whom I room.

My emotions are more mixed. As I've learned in the States and in Africa, I must be ready and willing to joyfully call any place home. Here are the perks and drawbacks of the move, which will hopefully give you all a better mental picture of my present and future work:

Drawbacks:
1) Leaving behind about 40% of my unit. I have visited all of them several times a week in their places of work since we first arrived. They know to expect me (and my candy).
2) Leaving behind several ongoing counseling cases, which are among my most vital labors.
3) Leaving behind my morning chapel service after getting through just a chapter of a series through Philippians. I joke that this is becoming a pattern. When I finally decided it was safe to assume that I wouldn't be deployed, I started a series on James at church, only to be cut off after a chapter. Sheesh!
4) Leaving behind a Bible study with several committed attenders, including my activist friend.
5) Leaving behind my deeper relationships. An enduring (prayer) need of the pastor/chaplain is to find a few deep friendships where he is not "on." I can easily seclude myself in my sociability.
6) Leaving behind my new post "Run Master" role, just after assuming the responsibility (and joy).
7) Leaving behind the few trees and places of shade in Afghanistan.
8) Leaving behind a nice office in which I had invested many hours to make hospitable.

Perks:
1) Moving forward to about 50% of my unit (plus an additional 5% who are moving with me). I have missed these soldiers greatly, as I have only visited them twice. I haven't even met many of our international soldiers over there. There also seems to be more morale issues over there, as many of these soldiers are involved in direct training/advising, and some have come under fire.
2) As a result, moving forward to more fruitful counseling, visitation, and evangelistic opportunities.
3) Moving forward to another chapel service and Bible study (hopefully).
4) Moving forward to new opportunities to form deep friendships, and hopefully some that prove convicting and encouraging at the core spiritual level.
5) Moving forward to a location with more room to run outdoors, and hopefully a new opportunity to become a post "Run Master" and organize events.
6) Moving forward to a place with more material resources (larger PX), shops, and fast food.

Ultimately, while I am sad to leave behind relationships and services, I can readily see the opportunity for a greater impact at the place where I am going. I can travel back here on occasion (hopefully more frequently than I traveled to the new location), and hopefully keep me counseling cases going, even if less frequent. May God grant me wisdom so I may approve what is excellent!

The Beautiful Bad News

I was enjoying a conversation with my CDR the other day (as I so often do). He is sincere, Roman Catholic believer who can offer a bunch of spot-on critiques of the evangelical pop culture.

We talked about how some of this culture was influence by the influence of psychologist Norman Vincent Peale's "Power of Positive Thinking," and the bubble gum preachers who decided to turn that into a Christian philosophy of ministry (i.e. most of the people on TV).

Now my CDR also appreciates a certain degree of positive thinking and believes in its power. To a certain degree, I do as well. We are both fans of cognitive psychology, with its focus on changing destructive thought patterns. But positive thinking isn't enough. Not for psychology. Not for ministry.

In fact, positive thinking, if seen as an end, will always end in despair. If a pastor tells you that you can have your best life now, then you should probably politely call him a liar. This life is not all about finding your purpose, realizing your potential, or achieving health and wealth. It is about glorifying God and enjoying Him forever.

I told my CDR that we need to hear about sin and judgment in every sermon. He told me he doesn't like those "hellfire and brimstone" sermons. I agree. Most of those sermons simply provoke the fear of God, but offer no comfort in the love and mercy of God in Jesus Christ. I told him that we need both. Jesus came for the sick, not the healthy; sinners, not the righteous. We need to be convicted of our sin by the law before we can be comforted by the Gospel. We need our wounds exposed if we are to savor the salve of the Gospel. Only great sinners know their need for a great Savior.

That point struck him. Hopefully the truth God gives us through Paul in Romans 12 will touch him anew--that we live in view of God's mercy before we offer our bodies as living sacrifices (v1) and we must be transformed by the renewing of our minds before we can test and approve God's will (v2). Positive thinking and living starts with the Gospel and is cultivated by Spirit-wrought conviction and comfort in Christ.

I also spent an hour or two debating some theological points with an older soldier at dinner last night. Whenever someone starts with the question, "You know what's wrong with the Church today?" I brace myself. I'm glad these folks don't have the authority to judge the Church as they suppose, for that power belongs to Christ alone and He is much more gracious (Rom. 8:34).

He then proceeded to tell me about how it's because we don't do what Jesus did, for Jesus said that those who believe shall do what he did and even more. For this man, this couldn't possibly mean that Jesus was referring to our walking according to the same Spirit that guided Him, or that we will be able to share the same life-saving message that He did, though we are sinners. Nope. This has to mean that we will do miracles just like the Apostles. We should be able to heal the sick and claim the physical promises that God has given us.

I rarely get annoyed. But when I hear a fellow believer claim this sort of voodoo-Christian nonsense, I get a bit perturbed. Jesus never sinned. Can we do that? Jesus poured out His Spirit upon His people. Can we do that?

Apparently, more miracles would verify the truth of the Word and the Church would reverse course from its "decline" (despit the fact that it is surging in much of the non-western world). Yet miracles did nothing to convince unbelievers of Jesus' identity in His day. Mankind saw the miracles. And then mankind murdered the Son of God.

Faith comes through hearing the Word (Rom. 10), not by sight. And we are not promised good times. Rather, we are told that the world will hate us and that we will suffer. To claim that we can heal cancer is demonic. Paul had a thorn in the flesh (perhaps bad eyes)--where was his faith to heal himself? Suffering is not the disease, it is the symptom. Christ became our sin so we might be the righteousness of God. He did not become our sufferer so we might be the healthy of God.

There will be a day when "there will be no more curse," the physical body and the world will be restored to their original beauty, and every tear will be wiped from our eyes (Rev. 21-22). But that today is not today. Today, we follow Christ and bear the weight of the cross. On That Day, we will follow Christ and bear the weight of glory (Col. 3:1-4).

You know what's wrong with the Church today? It is filled with sinners, some of whom would rather sit on the throne of judgment rather than at the feet of the Justifier. Come, Lord Jesus, come.

The Liberation Trilogy: A Eulogy Written in Blood

Last night, due to overcaffeination and constant activity, I couldn't fall asleep. So I flipped my reading light on and spent a couple more hours reading toward the end of the final book in Rick Atkinson's Liberation Trilogy on WWII. Awoken by my alarm at 0525 to prep my team of volunteers, I groggily conducted my first 5k (with twenty participants).

As I proceed through another day with heavier eyelids, I also proceed with a heavier heart, filled with the weight of war. Rick Atkinson has imposed that burden upon me, for which I am thankful. In fact, the great writer and thinker, George Will, expressed a similar sentiment today in the Post: http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/george-will-rick-atkinsons-unsparing-history-of-world-war-ii/2013/08/30/fb942f5c-10cb-11e3-b4cb-fd7ce041d814_story.html.

I cannot aspire to Will's eloquence (though he starts his article with the same arresting quote that I memorized on the spot for any future memoral service I conduct), but I can at least give one layman's peek behind the curtain of great history disguised as masterful literature.

On V-E (Victory in Europe) Day, while masses cheered in the States, US troops in Europe were adrift and aimless. They strolled through lush orchards and burnt hillsides, alongside architectural marvels now reduced to rubble, and felt nothing. There was no elation, joy, or relief--no victory party for the average soldier. They had walked through hell to get to heaven, and having arrived at their destination, found few of their friends alongside them to bask in the glow. Their ability to reflect was buried with their battle buddy beneath a cross or star of David.

Many a chapter and section in these books end with a tender letter home from a young man to his wife or mother, looking forward to a future resplendant with renewed love and beautiful children. I came to dread such portions of these books, because this letter would inevitably be followed by something like "But Private First Class Wilson would never again picnic with his young wife as he had hoped. He would be dead from shrapnel wounds in the Ardennes two weeks later."

General Patton was emblematic of the American soldier--courageous and compassionate. He might well be remembered for his slapping of two mentally broken soldiers on Crete, but one should not forget the weeping outside of the medical tents holding his soldiers, or the vomiting at the sight of a liberated concentration camp.

It was this latter reality that enabled the battle-wearied American soldier to run the war through to its course. After losing all sense of why he was fighting this war, the American soldier would stumble upon a place like Bergen-Belsen, sob or shoot a German guard in blind fury, and confess "Now I know." The wells of Western compassion overflowed for the millions of precious lives obliterated with denomic precision--the ovens and gas chambers, the baby slippers and children's shoes, the Rape of Nanking, and the ripping open of pregnant Philippino women and bayoneting of their babies. And the wells ran dry for the perpetrators of these atrocities and the cultures that permitted them.

Rarely in history has the division between good and evil in war been so clear cut. Atrocities were the punished exception for the West. They were the norm for two of the most sadistic leaders and calloused cultures. Only the shadow of the sickle that settled over the Soviet Union, China, and other communist nations would challenge the mantle of evil clearly held by Hitler and Tojo.

And that moral conviction--a conviction often lost in today's society--is what enabled normal men to become heroes. Yes, they fought for each other. But they also fought for the woman and baby in this photo:

(And, yes, this young Jewish woman is trying to shield her baby, but to no avail.)

Close to 420,000 American soldiers died in World War Two (compared with about 10,000 for the two conflicts of the past decade)--most in horrible and lonely ways. But they died for a noble cause.

In the wake of the great wars, cynical generations have sought to deny the glory that comes with war. Yet, history now hangs a wreath upon the head of the allied victors in World War Two. But few soldiers will ever realize that glory in their own day--a day marked by bitter emptiness at the loss of so many after so few years of life. Glory belongs to the dead, not the living.

“The saviors come not home tonight: Themselves they could not save.”

Random Tidbits

I intentionally make Sunday my LBR (low battle rhythm) day, due to the fact that unlike other soldiers, I don't get to start late on Fridays (early morning meeting) or Sundays (lead worship service). And, as might be expected for a number of reasons, leading a worship service is exhausting. So I try to make Sunday afternoons more relaxed (try to read a bit, catch up on emails). Of course, I never close my office door (unless I have a male counselee), so my reality often doesn't meet the expectations of my ambition. I love soldiers, so I can't complain when my relaxation is interrupted!

I ran my second half marathon out here last night in 1:49:30, almost twenty minutes better than my initial run (2:07:15), which was conducted a few days after arriving in this high-altitude, poorly ventilated environment. My goal for my next race is 1:44 (under 8 minute pace), and by the end of deployment, I want to at least get close to 1:30 (under 7 minute pace). Once I get back to normal altitude in the US, I should be able to fly! Since we're tracking with the Rock and Roll series, we'll be racing most every weekend from now until mid-November.

As of a week or two ago, I became the Run Master of this post, and as of today, I became the coordinator of the half marathon series (signified by the passing of the leftover t-shirts and medals). I will lead conduct my first ever race tomorrow--a Labor Day 5k. I am also coordinating the Army Ten Miler in a couple of weeks. Due to the small size of the post, all of the runs must be conducted on treadmills. Normally, this might seem easier due to the flat distance (though it's also much more monotonous), but the altitude and air quality most certainly make it more difficult.

I said "goodbye" to my African friend last night. She thanked me profusely for all of my care for her. I counseled her more than any other soldier during this deployment. That makes it additionally sad for me that she is now gone. She is not only a friend, but an object of my prayers and labors. It's like saying "goodbye" to the first quarter of my first ever deployment. Thankfully, she lives in NoVa, which means she'll make my "Summer Soldier BBQ" next summer and hopefully visit my church.

Speaking of which, I am on a relentless drive to convince soldiers to move to my area of NoVa. I make a pretty convicing case, and I think some of them are actively thinking about it.

It saddens me whenever someone (especially someone who should know better) says "The Gospel is..." and doesn't finish the sentence with "...Jesus Christ's saving work for sinners." There is mass confusion concerning law and Gospel within the Church right now. The Gospel is not a lifestyle, or loving people, or being changed, or living by faith. The Gospel has nothing to do with our works. Otherwise, the Gospel would be horrible news because our good deeds are like filthy rags before the Lord (Is. 64), not one of us does good (Ps. 14; Rom. 3), and the wages of sin is death (Rom. 6). If the Gospel is any of the things above, then we are all damned. The Gospel is what Christ did in our place--He became sin who knew no sin, so we might be the righteousness of God (2 Cor. 5). The law reveals God's standard for righteousness, condemns sin and thus drives sinners to the cross, and order the life saved by the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It does not save. Only Jesus saves.

I finished a great psychological book, Love's Executioner, by Irving Yalom, recently. In the next several days, I will finish the final book in the excellent WWII trilogy written by Rick Atkinson. Expect reviews of both LE and the trilogy in the coming week.

Not sure I mentioned it before, but I traveled to a western portion of the country recently to visit some of our soldiers. I have now traveled through several modes that I have never traveled through before (the perks of traveling with someone of high rank!). But, having now traveled to a couple of distant places in scenic Afghanistan, I think I can reduce the landscape to two words: Brown and bare. Something tells me that the new heavens and earth will be a bit more lush...