"To the Pain..."
My wife and I have probably watched the movie "The Princess Bride" a dozen times. We've seen it enough that we almost know the lines by heart and say them along with the cast. At the climax of the movie the evil Prince Humperdink challenges the hero, a young man named Westley played by Cary Elwes, to a duel to the death. Westley's response was "No! to the pain!" In my previous post, I recalled the Kiawah Marathon of 2006. Feeling strong at mile 20, I picked up the pace for a strong finish. I felt strong. I was strong. Then came mile 23. First the hips went, then the ankles, then the knees. Elizabeth met me about mile 24 on a bike she had rented and rode along beside me. The only thing I said was, "to the pain!" "to the pain!" The pain continued and I continued the semi-chant, "to the pain!" Finally, a turn to the left and I knew I was there, the finish line and I summoned up my last energy for a final push. In reality it wasn't the end, and yet another left turn brought me to the end, barely able to walk, but feeling altogether glorious.
I remember one of the times I ran the Marine Corps Marathon seeing marines who were running it wearing shirts with the following statements on the back:
"Mile 20- I thought I was going to die"
"Mile 22- I thought I was dead"
"Mile 24- I wished I were dead"
"Mile 26.2- I realized I was too tough to kill"
Only someone who has done something truly physically grueling can appreciate the elation and joy of completing it. You wear the race shirt with pride, you are glad to limp to the car, even the muscle cramps and blisters feel strangely good. To ever reach this joy, you must first struggle- "to the pain!" The difference between agony and joy is the inches it takes to cross the finish line, and the only way to get to the joy and exuberance is to endure the pain of miles 23-24; and until you actually get across those magic few inches you can't understand the joy that follows.
The disciples following Jesus that week knew only the pain. Jesus had foretold both his crucifixion and resurrection, but their minds did not understand and they were unprepared. Jesus had purged the temple and had publicly humiliated both the Pharisees and Sadducees. They saw him betrayed by one of their own, go through "kangaroo courts," mocking, and flogging, All the while the ones who hadn't fled had to be wondering, "how much longer?" "When's he going to show them who's boss and call legions of mighty angels?" Ultimately their pain culminated on a dark weekend. Their Lord had died at the hands of Pontius Pilate. All that was left was to anoint the body, which they had apparently left to a couple of women who had followed Jesus. Pain, unrelenting and agonizing disillusionment was all they knew. Their whole world of the last three years had been for naught. Until... out of the blue those same women came rushing breathlessly back saying, "He is risen!" Human imagination and comprehension cannot fathom the emotion that fueled Peter and John as they raced to the empty tomb. The angels had said, "Alleliua!" What better better phrase could there be. This Greek transliterates the Hebrew "Hallelujah" or "Praise Yahweh!" God had won! God had won! Death reigned no more, all the powers of darkness seemingly triumphant on Friday were smashed on Sunday. "Alleluia, Christ is Risen Indeed!!"
I remember one of the times I ran the Marine Corps Marathon seeing marines who were running it wearing shirts with the following statements on the back:
"Mile 20- I thought I was going to die"
"Mile 22- I thought I was dead"
"Mile 24- I wished I were dead"
"Mile 26.2- I realized I was too tough to kill"
Only someone who has done something truly physically grueling can appreciate the elation and joy of completing it. You wear the race shirt with pride, you are glad to limp to the car, even the muscle cramps and blisters feel strangely good. To ever reach this joy, you must first struggle- "to the pain!" The difference between agony and joy is the inches it takes to cross the finish line, and the only way to get to the joy and exuberance is to endure the pain of miles 23-24; and until you actually get across those magic few inches you can't understand the joy that follows.
The disciples following Jesus that week knew only the pain. Jesus had foretold both his crucifixion and resurrection, but their minds did not understand and they were unprepared. Jesus had purged the temple and had publicly humiliated both the Pharisees and Sadducees. They saw him betrayed by one of their own, go through "kangaroo courts," mocking, and flogging, All the while the ones who hadn't fled had to be wondering, "how much longer?" "When's he going to show them who's boss and call legions of mighty angels?" Ultimately their pain culminated on a dark weekend. Their Lord had died at the hands of Pontius Pilate. All that was left was to anoint the body, which they had apparently left to a couple of women who had followed Jesus. Pain, unrelenting and agonizing disillusionment was all they knew. Their whole world of the last three years had been for naught. Until... out of the blue those same women came rushing breathlessly back saying, "He is risen!" Human imagination and comprehension cannot fathom the emotion that fueled Peter and John as they raced to the empty tomb. The angels had said, "Alleliua!" What better better phrase could there be. This Greek transliterates the Hebrew "Hallelujah" or "Praise Yahweh!" God had won! God had won! Death reigned no more, all the powers of darkness seemingly triumphant on Friday were smashed on Sunday. "Alleluia, Christ is Risen Indeed!!"
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