The Faith Race That Goes To The Committed, The Courageous

Back in my college running days. That's me on the right there, the one you wouldn't recognize these days.

My last college cross country race was held on a warm, sunny November day in a big, hilly park in Fresno, Calif. It was 1990. I was 21, married with a little boy and in my senior year at the University of Portland. The race was an NCAA regional meet, my last chance to qualify for the national cross country championships and I was running with the big boys from the West region. All the Pac-10 (back when it was the Pac-10) schools were there along with big schools from other major conferences.

I was ready, if not a bit intimidated to race with the elites. To qualify for the NCAA championships your team has to be in the top three. Or for individuals, you have to be in the top three from non-scoring teams. I had a legitimate shot. A very good shot. The race was 10 kilometers, or 6.2 miles. I always felt like we were at a slight disadvantage racing in California at that time of year because in Portland it was 50s and raining sideways, so a warm day in the 70s was a bit taxing for us and not something for which we could prepare. But that's not an excuse. The conditions were the same for everyone.

As the race went on I knew our team was in the running for a shot at the NCAAs and I was as well. I remember distinctly with a half-mile left thinking that this was the last cross country race I would ever run. In high school I had been fortunate enough to be a part of an amazing turnaround. My freshman year of high school, when I started running at Bend High School in Oregon, we were horrible in cross country, finishing somewhere close to last in our district. By the time I was a junior we dominated our district and finished second in state. My senior year we destroyed the competition, winning the state title by 69 points. That state title was by far the highlight of my high school athletics experience.

College was similar. My freshman year we weren't that good, but by the time I was a senior we had a shot -- albeit something of a slim one -- to get to the NCAAs. So with a half-mile left in the race I did something that I never did. I sprinted. I never had much of a kick and usually conserved energy for the very end of the race, maybe the last 100 meters. Not this time.

I don't recall how many runners I passed but it was a lot. Maybe six, possibly eight. Could be more. I absolutely crushed that last half-mile. And paid the price for it. As I stumbled across the finish line in 11th place, two runners who kicked much later burst past me. But I had beaten them to the line and the officials pushed me in front of them in the finish line chute.

Gasping for air I literally stumbled through the line on legs of rubber and I remember the strangest thing happened to me. I couldn't keep my eyes open. I was so exhausted I literally was falling asleep as I walked through the chute. I found a picnic table and promptly crashed onto the bench to go to sleep, or possibly die. My teammates probably thought I was dead, maybe just nearly dead at best, and kept trying to help me up to walk me around and keep me alive. I would have none of it. I told them to leave me alone. I just wanted to sleep. Or maybe die.

My effort was seemingly noble, yet all for naught. Our team finished 4th and I was the 4th individual. My cross country season, really my cross country career, was over. Since then I've looked back on that race and comforted myself knowing how hard I fought that last mile. I've even used it in messages I've preached at Calvary Chapel Gloucester about finishing the race well. To push yourself to the limit.

Yet that's not the truth. I've thought about that race a lot over the past 25 years. (Wow. Has it been that long? Mercy sakes.) And while it's a nice narrative I've told over the years it's not quite right. I've been wrong to talk about that race in the manner I have. It's long past time to come clean. I'll explain.

Here's why I've been thinking about this. I see too many Christians practice their faith exactly the way I ran that race. We all gather at the starting line -- that moment when you come to faith in Jesus Christ and make Him your Lord and Savior -- and from that point there are some who really go for it and are all out for the Lord. They are passionate, unwavering and zealous and the love of Jesus shines in them and through them. They are lights in a dark world, continually pointing people to Jesus, being compassionate, loving and radiating His grace. I admire them greatly.

Others run comfortably, more or less lukewarm. This is your typical Christian and a group I would characterize as the vast majority. Some flat out dawdle and others, sadly, drop out. But for pretty much everyone who sticks in the race there's a sprint at the end as the realization hits them that the end of their life is near and they want to "do something for the Lord."

So what really happened in that race of mine 25 years ago? In every cross country race there comes a point fairly early when you have to decide your level of commitment. The great runners push themselves to the limit from the start. For me, the moment of truth in that 10k in Fresno came around two miles into the race. At that point I backed off a bit and didn't fully go for it, opting to conserve my energy until the end. I played it safe. I ran comfortably, easily within my limits. It proved to be a decision I would regret. And still regret. Why not just go for it? It was my last cross country race! Ever!

Here's why I made the decision I did. I simply lacked the courage. And commitment. The race doesn't always go to the fastest or strongest. It's often to the most committed. The most courageous. That wasn't me on that day.

Which brings me to my Christian life. And yours, if you're a believer. What's your level of commitment? What's the courage meter of your faith? Are you coasting? Have you settled?

I've settled in my faith far too often. I've coasted in my faith far too often. It's too easy to just back off -- daily Bible reading, prayer, sharing my faith, pressing into the Lord, missions and other elements of the Christian faith can all take a back seat to "life" and its distractions and enticements. It really comes down to who Jesus is in my life. And yours. Is Jesus worth living for? Worth dying for? Didn't Jesus lay down His life for you and me?

I say all of this because I'm wrestling hard with some major decisions. It has everything to do with my level of commitment and the essence of my faith. I'm guessing you have these decisions to wrestle with as well.

It's the two-mile mark and time to make a decision. What's my level of commitment? What's yours?

Three Things Daily Bible Reading Teaches Your Kids

Madeline leads worship during a recent Calvary Chapel Gloucester baptism.

Way back in 1992 in the dusty eastern Oregon border town of Ontario, we stumbled upon Calvary Chapel. We loved the church and found it refreshing that the key element was the Bible and teaching through it verse by verse, chapter by chapter, book by book. Over the years we have attended or visited many Calvary Chapels. Now I pastor a Calvary Chapel and our family is very involved in the church, with Brenton the assistant pastor and other Sabos at various times leading worship, teaching in children's ministry, leading Bible studies and serving in other capacities.

One of the primary distinctives of Calvary Chapel is its emphasis on the Bible. We hold the Bible in high regard and consider it required reading around the Sabo house. Although we don't "make" any of our kids read the Bible daily, I know that those of the reading age take the time pretty much daily to read it. I was talking to Brenton about this earlier tonight to get his thoughts on why it's important for youth to read the Bible and what it teaches them. Here's a few thoughts.

1) Reading the Bible daily teaches discipline. The Christian life is one of discipline. Prayer, Bible reading, worship and meditating on God's word are all disciplines that separate the casual believer from one who is fervently following Jesus. It blesses me so much to see my children, even as young as elementary school age, reading the Bible daily right before bed, or in the morning when they first get up. No one asks them to do it, but they see examples set by their parents and older siblings. Being in the Word from a young age will mature them beyond their years and they will learn a discipline that is a vital part of their faith. The maturity in faith that comes from reading and knowing the Bible will extend to other areas of their lives and you will see them own their faith in Jesus from a young age.

2) Reading the Bible daily makes God's Word come alive. More than simply knowing the stories and characters of the Bible, devotional reading helps youth understand how God's Word is alive and applies to their life today. They can see how God worked through history as part of His plan to bless and save humanity through His Son and they can translate that to God working in their own lives. If they see God working in their lives, they believe He has a purpose for their lives and will be able to navigate the inevitable trials and tribulations of life because they are tethered to Jesus. A key component of having God's Word be alive and dynamic is that the Bible comes into play as a key component to making decisions. When youth learn to make decisions based on truths from the Bible they read and can apply to their lives, they are light years ahead of most adults I know -- even those in the church who aren't equipped to make good decisions because they rarely, if ever, open a Bible.

3) Reading the Bible daily serves as a counter-balance to the world. Kids these days are buffeted by an extraordinary amount of worldly enticements designed to influence their behavior. Media, advertising, technology, even the lure of sports and other passions, can all pull kids away from their walk with Jesus. Reading the Bible serves as the anchor for kids, linking them firmly and steadfastly to their Savior, Jesus Christ. One of my sons was telling a story about a friend of his in college whose life has seen remarkable maturity in faith. The difference? Even though he was a churchgoing lad and participated in his youth group at his church, he said he didn't really care to read the Bible. Since heading off to college, he started getting into God's Word and it's a key component to his new found Christian maturity.

No doubt I can come up with a whole host of other things that daily Bible reading teaches our kids. But one last thought: Name something else that would be a better way for your child to spend his or her time.

Faith That Matters In This American Life

Touch the Light

I was driving around Gloucester late last fall on a stormy day and spied this lone tree in a field. I actually stopped in the middle of a busy road and gazed for a few moments. Eventually I parked my car and walked around in a smattering of raindrops before finding the right angle for a photo.

There's just something that draws my eye to this old, gnarled and scarred tree set against the storm clouds and rising above the line of distant woods behind it. It's a lone sentinel in a field, surrounded by farm ground that's planted every spring and harvested in late summer. I'm not sure why it was left standing because it seems that everything else in what was once thick woods was chopped down and cleared away long ago to make way for ground to till and grow crops.

If you spend enough time in ministry you can relate to this tree. If you spend enough time in a relentless pursuit of God perhaps you can relate to this tree. Sometimes it feels as if you stand unprotected and vulnerable. Sometimes you take some blows. You can be buffeted by storms. You can feel alone.

All those things are what drew me to this tree. After all these years in that field and through all the changing seasons and the relentless onslaught of storms, the tree has endured. The tree is still standing. Sure it's beat up and gnarled and when you get up close you can see it's rotting in patches. But I like how, as I gazed at it from the base of a low knoll, the tree rises out of darkness and above the line of trees behind it, seeming to touch the light in the parting dark clouds.

It reminds me of our hope in Jesus. There's things that go on in within this Christian life, in faith, in ministry, that are trying and difficult. There's discouragement and at times despair. I'm reminded it always occurs when my eyes are focused on circumstances. I'm reminded to fix my eyes on Jesus. My hope and faith is in Him. And I'm reminded that in Him I'm never alone.

Succeeding In One Thing That Really Matters

Succeeding in something that matters. A Thanksgiving Sabo family soccer match.

I was walking down the hall tonight to say bedtime prayers and saw my 10-year-old son reading his Bible. No one had asked him to, it's simply a legacy handed down from his older siblings that was started by Brenton when he was a lad. Every night, without fail, I can see Abram, now 15, reading his Bible. It's always one of the highlights of my entire day. The thought struck me that my kids are doing something that matters. Francis Chan has a fairly famous quote that sums up my thoughts this evening: "Our greatest fear should not be of failure but of succeeding at things in life that don't really matter." 

I've thought about this quote a lot recently as I survey the landscape of American Christianity through the lens of parents. And I'm pretty darn sure we're succeeding at things that don't really matter. So many people I've known over the last several years who had been churchgoers are partaking of the youth sports elixir. They spend their Sunday mornings at the soccer, baseball, field hockey, or any number of other athletic fields, watching their kids play. And the message they are sounding loud and clear to a generation of youth is that sports is more important than church. And we wonder why Millenials and others are walking away from the church? I  would suggest one factor is that it's not important to parents.

Look, being at church for the sake of being at church -- treating it like a club -- is a whole separate subject. In our family, going to church isn't optional and subject to whichever kid's travel sports team -- or any other event for that matter -- has a game or match that morning (Disclaimer: None of our kids are on travel sports teams). But neither is it this legalistic rite we do every Sunday. Going to church on Sundays is our time to corporately and individually worship the Lord, as well as pray, study and learn Scripture and fellowship with brothers and sisters in Christ. It is vital. We look forward to it. We desire it. We are strengthened and encouraged by it. We are equipped by and through our worship, prayers and Bible studying on Sundays to navigate the travails of the week. We are also able to encourage our church family on Sundays.

At our church, Calvary Chapel Gloucester, even our young kids are studying through the Bible at their level. In the church, we study through the Bible verse by verse, chapter by chapter, book by book. Last week we studied Acts 4:1-12. Next Sunday we'll pick it up in Acts 4 verse 13. We have seen a tremendous amount of fruit in our lives and in the lives of our children in the systematic study of Scripture and prioritizing what we do on Sundays as a family. When our older kids leave the house, they choose to find a church in which to worship. It's vital to them and I thank the Lord for that. They have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. They are firm in their faith. 

I truly believe that we are succeeding in something that matters.