Fan Support

"Hey, you are wonderful!...I admire you!...You are great!...I love you!...Thank you for being who you are!..."

It was a cool June Sunday morning in San Diego, and this thin, graying man in a T-shirt and running shorts appeared to have been belting out these phrases like a recording for at least half an hour by the time I passed him.  Oh, please, don't say that you love me.  That would be awkward....

"Sir, you are an inspiration to me!"

"Thank you!"  I quickly responded as I breathlessly ran past him.  Whew, that was close.  I didn't know who this man was, but I had seen him at roughly the same spot at the San Diego Rock 'n' Roll Marathon several years in a row.  26 miles and 385 yards is a beast of a distance for a race, and this man was on a mission to make it just a little easier. He had no clue who most of the roughly 30,000 runners were, but no one seemed to complain.  As the race unfolded, other spectators also yelled out words of encouragement.  "Looking good, Glenn!"  (I had my name on the race bib)  "Good job!  Keep it up!"  "It's all downhill after another mile!"  "Nice legs!"

When people ask me why I'd put my body through the torture of marathons, I often reply that it's cheaper than psychotherapy.  You pay a nominal fee, then go run down the street to have people say that you're wonderful, you look good, and pretend that you are some sort of a big deal.  Bands play for you.  Japanese taiko drummers rouse you with thundering rhythms.  During a half-marathon in Los Angeles, we were greeted with bone rattling pulsations by a high school drum line as we emerged from a tunnel.  The sensation was surreal.

However, those drums, bands and encouraging fans paled in comparison to the Wellesley College girls near the halfway point of the Boston Marathon.  Runners, from elite athletes to back-of-the-pack qualifiers, are greeted by the "wall of sound" that is audible more than one mile away, and the sound rises steadily for several minutes until they are met by a screaming frenzy of college women waving arms, banners and "kiss me" signs.  The reception is reminiscent of the Beatles appearing at the Ed Sullivan Show.  I seriously want to qualify for Boston again, if only to relive the thrill of the Wellesley sonic boom.

Jesus did not run marathons when he lived among us in the flesh, but he was no stranger to being the attention of large gatherings.  As his reputation grew, great crowds followed him as he healed the sick, taught about the kingdom of heaven, and fed many thousands of men, women and children with only a few small loaves of bread and some fish.  Crowds also appeared days before his crucifixion, laying down palm branches before him and crying "Hosanna!"  Yet, Jesus did not come to earth to receive admiration, praises and glory from men.  He came with another purpose:

For I have come down from heaven not to do my own will but the will of him who sent me.  (John 6:38)

Jesus' life on earth was an act of obedience to the Father, such that...

And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.  (Philippians 2:8)

Jesus never succumbed to pride as the crowds gathered with increasing strength.  Instead,

But he would withdraw to desolate places and pray.  (Luke 5:16)

May we be eternally grateful for Jesus' single-minded submission to the Father's will and love for us, such that when crowds gathered one last time around Jesus, shouting "crucify him!", he responded in near solitude on the cross with the words, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."  (Luke 23:34)

Should we not seek to please God, rather than to merely hope for the praise of men, and of a few thousand screaming college coeds?