Beating the Air

"I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air." - Paul

Every time I go to my gym, I think about what is true of my gym that I wish were also true of my church.

Unity of focus

Image source: www.kettlebell.net

A variety of my people come to my gym. They are all ages and in all different stages of life. I talked to a lady yesterday who was coming to a different class because her kids just started school. I worked with a lady today who looked to be in her late fifties. There are "meatheads" and chubby guys. There are natural athletes and people who trip over their feet. Some people come straight after work still wearing ties and dress shoes. Others come from the fire station or their landscaping company. But when we get ready to start a workout, we're all the same. A little bit excited, a little bit nervous. Trying to do better this time than last.

The way my gym is set up, we all do the same workout, which means that all of these people walk in different and walk out the same. We're all wiped out. We all feel like we did something impossible today, and we will do something impossible again tomorrow. We have all chosen to pursue this, and that unites us. Differences fade away as the sweat starts to run.

Comraderie
I'm relatively new, so I don't know all of the terminology and movements yet. I also struggle to keep going through a whole workout. Sometimes I feel like everyone else is strong and confident. But then someone shows me how to do something or tells me to keep up the hard work. Because as one person told me, "We've all been there."

Everyone knows what it is to look around at a room full of strangers and wonder if all of these people think you're a huge wimp--if they even see you at all. Everyone knows what it is to look at the workout and have no idea what that combination of words means. Everyone knows what it is to think that you can't possibly do this.

What a new person doesn't realize is that all the strange faces looking back at them love this gym and want them to love it too. They want that person to feel welcome and comfortable. They want to help, encourage, and support them until they are confident and strong and can pass their expertise on to another new person.

Language
The language my gym uses is a bit esoteric. Acronyms like AMRAP, WOD, and PR are tossed around without definition. Cleans, jerks, thrusters, and snatches are a regular part of workouts. The words aren't meant to exclude people. They are just shortcuts. Because most people don't have preconceived ideas about their meaning, the gym gets to define them. When someone in my gym uses these words, I know exactly what they're saying because I've encountered them firsthand. We don't tell stories about doing a clean from two years ago; we do cleans together today.

Participatory
The gym owner is a great coach. As we work, he is constantly scanning the room looking for someone who could use some tips about their form, some words of encouragement, or some challenge to work harder. The coach doesn't stand in front of the room and do the workout for us while we all watch. The coach puts us to work, and we walk away feeling stronger and smarter. We've overcome a difficult physical challenge and learned how to more effectively face that challenge next time.

The Church
I wish the church was more like this. I wish that new people were welcomed and encouraged. I wish that words were experienced and defined, not tossed around without consideration for newcomers. I wish that we all changed clothes when we walked in the door in a way that broke down barriers between different people. I wish that everyone got to participate.

Remember these t-shirts from the 90s?

The crazy thing about my gym is that people pay a good amount of money to go there and get beat up. I had ibuprofen with my breakfast this morning. Churches, on the other hand, can't get people to come for free.

I wish I knew more about what Paul had in mind when he compared himself to an athlete. I love the feeling of meeting a difficult challenge head on. I love knowing that every ache and pain I feel is making me stronger and healthier. I think Christianity should be challenging. It should include meeting and overcoming obstacles, resulting in
a sense of strength and preparation for the next obstacle.

Maybe it's just because we attend a large church, but what I feel like instead is that most of the people in our congregation spend Sunday mornings watching someone else work out, hearing about their accomplishments and victories.

I am not the first one to see similarities between being an athlete and being a Christian. However, I wonder if the church has lost the focus that Paul had. How many Christians are running aimlessly? How many Christians go to church on Sunday because that's what you do on Sunday? How many Christians have a long list of rights and wrongs that protect them from dealing with the complexities of life? How many Christians live in a comfortable bubble that pushes out ambiguity? How many Christians are beating the air?