By David McGovern
IN my wardrobe are a collection of T-shirts that proclaim, variously, “I am a Tough Mudder”, “I have Grunt and True Grit” and that, most extravagantly, “I am a Spartan Warrior”.
The shirts are the legacy of various outdoor obstacle-course races I completed in 2013, across Queensland and in Sydney’s south-west, near Picton.
They are hardly collector’s items, I should point out; literally thousands of people competed in these and a whole host of other similar events, during the past 12 months. Similar numbers can be expected to take part in 2014.
In what is a growing trend among elite athletes and those who simply want to get fit and have fun and don’t mind getting dirty in the process, obstacle-course racing involves running for extended distances, punctuated by overcoming various “obstacles” along the way.
Some of these obstacles involve crawling under barbed wire, clambering to the top of temporary wooden walls and even running through a tunnel with live, low-voltage, electric wires hanging to give competitors genuine shock value.
Oh, and lots of mud … the more mud, the better, it seems. But putting these specific details aside for a moment, and with the calendar mapped out with the events I hope to take part in this year, it is worth reflecting on why this form of sporting activity is proving so popular.
Just as significantly, as a member of a Church that is being called to engage more effectively with the world around it, it is also worth considering the lessons to be learned from the predilection so many have for getting down and dirty.
Firstly, OCR is ultimately about teamwork.
Every one of the races I took part in last year was done as part of a team. Not all of us finished at the same time but we ran under the same name, we wore the same T-shirts and most importantly, we encouraged, cajoled and supported one another through the various courses.
Evangelisation requires a personal commitment and an individual decision but we witness so much more effectively when we do it together.
That’s why we call the Eucharist “Communion”. It’s why the most famous prayer in our canon is the Our Father; not My Father or Your Father, but Our Father. We work best when we work together.
Secondly, entering an OCR means you have to embrace the fact that, at some point, you are going to get dirty – really and truly dirty.
Not just “grit under the nails” dirty, but “covered in mud and freezing cold water dirty”.
So how is this any different from what Pope Francis is urging each of us to do as we encounter the poor, the homeless, the sick, the prisoners and the disempowered. If we are truly going to serve and love, just as Jesus loved, we have to be prepared to become uncomfortable in the process.
As Blessed Frederic Ozanam, the founder of the St Vincent de Paul Society, demonstrated, we have to be prepared to go into the poor man’s room and sit with him, in his cold and desolation.
Saying yes – to an outdoor race or to serving God – is not without its consequences.
A third comparison, between OCR and the Christian faith, is that neither of them is really about the end result. Neither I nor my teammates entered to win medals, break world records or stand on a winner’s dais.
For each of us, the objectives were personal, even though the motivations were shared. Only you can articulate why Jesus is real in your life and what that ultimately means, or how that looks.
We may be united by some of the professions of our faith, and there are certain sacraments we experience collectively like Confirmation, as a child and marriage, at a wedding, but, at the end of the day, our faith is deeply personal.
We go to Mass, study the Scriptures, pray daily, get an education, so, hopefully, we are ready to tackle whatever obstacles, or opportunities, life puts in our path.
Significantly, there was a strong communal element present at each of the OCR events I participated in last year.
Crossing the finishing line, competitors were greeted by volunteers distributing cold drinks and souvenir T-shirts, music blaring at a make-shift village green and the smells of food cooking, to replenish depleted bodies.
These elements are not dissimilar to what is offered, perhaps on a different scale, at churches around the country, and around the world, on each and every weekend.
It was St Paul who used the metaphor of a runner racing to the finish line. In his letter to the Corinthians, he wrote: “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things.
“They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we are imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air.
“But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”
Considering all that Paul went through – from being temporarily blinded to becoming shipwrecked then persecuted and eventually killed for his zealousness, my career as an obstacle-course racer fades by comparison. However, I think some of that verse would look pretty good on a T-shirt.
David McGovern is Catholic Mission director in Brisbane archdiocese.
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