It is the time of the Winter Olympics and some of the triumphs are awe inspiring. I’m not sure what a quad-toe loop entails other than the obvious- four rotations. The Lutz and Salchow sound too much like “klutz” and “salt cow” to be taken seriously. The half-pipe looks like a creation of a snowboarder from a mountainless region. Nevertheless, the performances are fun to watch and leave one impressed with the training and discipline that took place to produce those results. What happens to the athletes after they hang up their skis and skates and put the medals (memories for those who did not win one) in the drawer?
I contrast it with the terror that the Haitians have experienced and, in many parts, still experience since the earthquake shook its capital city. The relief efforts have been inspiring. The stories of people pulled from the rubble after many days, still alive, is a glory. The stories of heroism through the pain will be told for generations. I wonder, what happens to some of these folks after the relief has subsided and the realities of life in Haiti without such warranted attention resumes?
Ephesians 6:13 gives comment to both the battle and the aftermath. The writer reminds us of all of the necessary equipment God gives for us to “withstand” the pressures and battles and onslaughts of the enemy. If I were to attempt a translation of the verse it would be, “Therefore, put on God’s complete armor so that you may be able to withstand the evil day and after you have done it all, stand.” The word to “stand” is used in two forms in this verse. One connotes standing against something- a storm or assault. The affixing “anti” to “stand” makes is clearer. The second word is the simple form “to stand.” It means to stand in a place. It connotes to hold one’s ground or to continue without being moved.
Let me use both terms in a way that might translate into our daily or common experience. We use the training and the equipment given us to face every challenge brought our way. We commit ourselves to the full exercise of our faith and the word, facing our greatest challenges. We wield the power of our salvation in times of difficulty. We focus our attention on defeating an enemy. That is the first part.
And, then, after we have been able to “withstand” every challenge, we don’t walk away. We don’t faint. We stand our ground. We stand remaining triumphant. We stand to continue our commitments and beliefs that we held before the battle began. We stand to remind ourselves and everyone else that the race is not finished by simply making it through a great triumph or a difficult tragedy. We stand to return doing the things that are most important. We stand in God and for God.
There is so much focus on the first, that we sometimes forget the second simply because the first is more visible- the challenge. What will be the condition of our Haitian brothers’ and sisters’ faith three years from now? Will they still trust God for their daily provision and consider Him a good God who fulfills His promises? The same questions apply to the Olympic Games victors. Will they be as strong in their lives ten years from now as they were in their performances?
I think we should be less impressed by the loud and raucous noise made at the end of a battle when the clatter of swords has stilled, then we are by the warrior still standing firm for the cause with which the battle began. We were missionaries in the Philippines from 1990-1993. One day we took a tour of Corregidor Island, the famed Island where many say World War II turned for and later against the Japanese. The story was told of the many Japanese soldiers who continued to fight or maintain their ground after many years. One extreme case was told of a soldier (Hiroo Onoda) on Lubang Island in the Philippines, who refused to believe the war was over and that he should leave his post unless told to do so from his superior officer, Major Taniguchi. Surprisingly, the Japanese government was able to locate the aged Major, who was not only still alive, but had his uniform intact. So, on March 9, 1974- 29 years after the war ended, only coming out of the jungle in response to an agreed upon signal of gun shot rounds, Private Onoda emerged from the jungle, presented arms, saluted his commanding officer and reportedly said, “I have not deserted my post.”
That is what it means, after the battle is over to still be standing. My prayer is that those who are consumed in the challenge do not forget that the less impressive but more imposing commitment is to remain standing firm in Christ long after the big battles in life have subsided. It is to stand firm through the lures of cultural compromise and the pressure of periodic disappointment. It is to remain faithful – even increase in faithfulness- in the end when no one is looking. Withstand the storm! Stand firm for life!