Running Mon

Men go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motions of the stars, and they pass by themselves without wondering. Saint Augustine

I am still on a Jamaican Jag. Like Jerk Chicken spices that remain on the palate long  after the meat is gone, I think I still have a couple of weeks left here with processing the Jamaican journey over Christmas. So, I ask for your forbearance. Be like those in the Jamaican Blue Mountains, who are in the words of my ride up into the Blue Mountains and down back 6 days later to Kingston, "Peaceful." Kingston on Christmas Eve was a chaotic carnival and as we drove away and up to Mt. Edge Guesthouse in Desmond's Orange Honda Fit, I could feel the sweltering pressure of the social sea level dissipate.   

Travel often puts new cards in our deck and we change in ways that would have not had we not left the confines of the rut card deck of home. Don't get me wrong, I love being home. I probably qualify as a homebody with the idea of staying home and reading a book on a Saturday night sounding absolutely dreamy. Or, watching CSPAN2 BOOKTV like I did last night. Yet, I also force myself--and it is a force at time--to light a fire under my own butt, to leave safety and embrace the horizon.    

I may have some ignition issues with the first five percent of action in planning a get-away but soon the expectation of the experience kicks in. In some ways it is like a good run. I have rarely regretted a run once I am in it and especially after I have finished when the endorphin's kick-in, but I have spent many an hour languishing on my bed getting ready to run. 

One tool that I use to motivate is a couple of cups of coffee. Caffeine is a P.E.D. and coffee tastes so lovely. I am absolutely certain that the logarithm that Amazon has for me places coffee-centric products in the middle. I drink a strong cup every morning of some fine java and then I work-out. I either lift weights or do aerobic exercise on alternating days for 21 minutes. On the weekends I drink another cup and often pull off a longer run or bike ride or lift more strenuously. I like the structure of the morning for around 20 minutes, then I am out, in the shower, and off to work. Cut out the endless contemplation.  

When I was in Jamaica up in the Blue Mountains, the only transportation readily available (so I thought) were my two feet. The last day of the vacation I heard that the guesthouse had bicycles as part of the lodging fee. As it was, I ran or walked everywhere, which was either up or down to the nearest coffee plantation or cafe. Often, it was four or five miles to a location and then back. Due to the nature of my lodging, it was often downhill first and then uphill back. Much harder up of course. 

To prep for the day, I would drink 2-3 cups of coffee at the guesthouse with Ox (a dude who worked there) and then be ready to run. Like rocket-fuel, coffee forces me to move to take off the edge. So, there I would go, big lumbering white dude, the opposite of Usain Bolt. Eric Thunder. I would arrive at the destination all sweaty. I am sure the Jamaicans thought I had several screws loose, hastened by the pounding on the pavement, gravel, and dirt. 

Running is a metaphor for life. We run away from things, sometimes it is healthy and sometimes not, and we run into things with the same moral spectrum ahead. The Bible states that we are to flee sexual immorality and the life of sin in general but we are also encouraged to run the race to our reward. Jesus is never recorded as having run which is probably suggestive that He was never in  a hurry but always on-time according to eternity. Peter did run to the grave on what was to become Easter morning, but he was beaten to it by John, from what I recall.

I heard a great quote Friday night at The Row House Forum here in Lancaster. The speaker, a college professor, was speaking about Augustine. It was a fascinating foray into his life's story. His running from God, only to find Him at the end of his travels, like when he went to Milan to be a Professor of Rhetoric only to discover St. Ambrose there, who was ready to help him get to the next part of his journey. Plus, Augustine's mom Monica trailed him all the way despite his efforts to lose her. She acted as God's agent to push (and she was pushy) Augustine into the kingdom.

Augustine's conversion was a series of steps but also in a moment of crucial time. It was both gradual and sudden, for he eventually faced a decision, and he went to God rather than run away. He ran into God and found rest for his soul.

The professor quoted Augustine and I haven't been able to track down the full quote online (I haven't searched all that hard). It was something to the the effect, "You think you are free but you are always running." The vibe Augustine was attempting to convey was that man is like a fugitive. By moving, man thinks he evades God's gaze. Can't hit a moving target kind of deal. But, God gets who He wants.

After the talk, I headed out to The Fridge with a good friend and another person who I know from church somewhat. Neither of the other two like the idea of predestination, that God chooses, which is what Augustine (and Luther, and Calvin) taught. It is an affront to humanity that God has agency just like we do. I shared with both of them that I don't particularly like the doctrine of predestination either. It is just what the Bible teaches, along with some Scriptures that are clear that people make real choices.

So, there is a paradox here and one that we cannot resolve but to keep in tension. God acts, we act and react. We are accountable but none of us can pay for our sin. God does. It is called grace. We can stop our running.