I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the community,
and as long as I live it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can.
George Bernard Shaw
Yesterday, I participated in one of those quintessentially Boston events: the Boston Marathon. No, I most certainly did NOT run in the marathon. I was there to support a friend, Jim, from Texas. He ran while his fiance (Elizabeth, a dear friend for many years), my wife, and I did our best to support him. This included one "shout out" of support near Kenmore Square as he ran by (his fiance managed an early shout out in the Boston suburbs as well as the one in the city with us). Later he told us what a difference it made to have us encouraging him when he'd reached the point of just pushing through to the end.
Not running in the marathon (and I hereby proclaim that I have no intention of ever doing so!), gave me an opportunity to observe and participate in the entire experience. We walked along part of the route and saw an enormous number of people participating in some way or another. Some were there because they come every year. Some were there because it was a good excuse to start drinking early. Others were there because it was a state holiday in Massachusetts (Patriots Day). Some were there to see the Red Sox game (ANOTHER loss to the Rays! Ugh!).
Many were there to support a specific runner or group of runners. I saw all sorts of people in matching t-shirts, with signs, with "stuff" to give the runners in case they needed a boost. People stood along the route yearning to catch a glimpse of a friend or family member running toward them. When they saw that particular person, they began to yell out the person's name and a huge smile would appear on the face of a weary runner who was just gutting it out.
I've often thought of running as a solo athletic endeavor. In many ways it is, of course. Even when someone has another to run with, in the midst of a marathon each person is eventually on his or her own to make it to the finish.
But in so many ways, the Boston Marathon exemplifies the need we have for community even in something that is so highly individualized. After the race, Jim spoke of the noise from the crowds that kept up his energy, of the other runners along the way with whom he interacted, and of our support at a critical time in the race for him. Jim wasn't alone and didn't run alone. He ran with a community.
The non-runners are certainly feeling better today than the runners. We don't need to recover from yesterday. But each of us, in a different way, made the Boston Marathon experience possible.
I won't stretch the metaphor too much here. You know where I'm going with this, I'm sure. Life is a marathon, not a sprint. Jesus calls us to live faithfully for the long term, not the short term. Etc., etc.
Perhaps it is best to remember, as I was reminded yesterday, that we are in this together, that each of us has a part to play to make it to the end of the race. Life is meant to be lived interdependently, in community, with each of us sharing our gifts, talents, and skills for the good of the whole. It's only a question, really, of whether we are each willing to do our part so that the community can keep on running.
