The Eudaimonia Blog

Yesterday morning, Tanya and I went to Tenth Ave. Alliance church, one of the larger churches in Vancouver. It had been a number of years since we had been to Tenth, but we enjoyed our morning of worship. Tenth church is very clear on their mission as one of their opening statements was that they are a church that exists for people to “Discover Christ, Experience Spiritual Transformation and Seek Justice.” It was a good morning; however, the more impactful part of my day was going on a 2.9 kilometre hike up the side of a mountain, otherwise known as the “Grouse Grind.” On Friday night, we had an outdoor BBQ with our INKS group. INKS stands for “Income No Kids + Students.” It’s basically our group of students and young professionals. And we decided as a group that it would be fun to tackle the “Grouse Grind” sometime in July. I had suggested the idea, since there is a saying that floats around about how you are not truly a Vancouverite until you’ve done the Grind, haha. So on Saturday, through email correspondence, we set the date for July 9th following our worship service at Grace Van, for the INKS to do the Grind together. But then, I got a little obsessive about the Grind through Saturday into Sunday, since it had been a number of years since I last did it. How hard was it? I don’t remember it being that hard. But maybe I was “mis-remembering” the hike as we all do mis-remember. Could we all do it or would some of us be set up for failure since it is rated as a “difficult” hike? So Sunday afternoon, I decided I was going to go do the grind, and it turned out to be a lot more difficult than I thought it was going to be. This gave me the idea that we should definitely have an alternative option on July 9th for those who might wish to do something a little less strenuous.

I understand rigorous activity is not for everyone,… but for some reason, I have always enjoyed physical activity. Ever since I was a boy, I enjoyed playing and running outside, far more so than school and study. Some of that changed once I came to know Christ at university and then became an avid student of the Bible and of cultural history and theology, otherwise, there has always been something immensely enjoyable for me when the blood gets pumping. Don’t get me wrong, the Grind yesterday afternoon was more than difficult and I was struggling at points, not finding much joy at all, rather pain! When I got to this sign, I thought, it feels like I have been hiking forever, and I’m only a quarter the way to the top!

Nonetheless, there is something about rigorous activity that teaches me about faith. I can’t help but think of Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 9 when he says in vv. 24-27, “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 not receive a perishable wreath, but we an 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.” There he speaks of the “endurance sport” of the Christian faith. The beginning of Hebrews 12 also speaks of running with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus. I’m sure there are climbing metaphors as well, just can’t think of any off the top of my head, other than Moses and the elders of Israel heading up Sinai to meet with God (Exodus 24). Nonetheless, that feeling of “wanting to quit” when things gets difficult, but then pressing forward, teaches me a lot about the life of faith.

It’s funny that as you do a difficult hike like this, inevitably you come across moments of hilarity. One of those moments of hilarity was that as I’m trying to catch my breath and struggling up the Grind, a couple of boys who couldn’t have been much older than four-years, traveling with their dads, were as chatty as could be. Whereas, I would not have been a good conversational partner with anyone had I brought a friend, these two little guys, with their boundless energy, couldn’t quit talking. What is more, whereas, I struggled, it seemed to be a leisurely walk for them. I can’t speak for their dads, but for these two little guys, they were barely breaking a sweat. And as these two little guys passed me, I overheard their conversation. One of the boys said to the other, “you probably don’t know what the word ‘tenacious’ means, do you?” The other boy said, “yes, I DO know the word- we learned that word in school!” The first boy proceeded to give a definition, “the word ‘tenacious’ means that you don’t ever give up.” I found it ironic that this moment of hilarity came at a point on the hike when I was huffing and puffing, challenged to continue climbing- the inspiration and joy of that small moment watching these two young boys cruise pass me, talking about the meaning of the word ‘tenacious’ added so much levity and enjoyment to my hike. But it was still a long slog. And then I came upon this sign:

I think it was at this point in my journey where I texted Dale and the Session to tell them, where I felt like I had been climbing forever,… “this feels like my sanctification (i.e. my becoming more like Christ),… that I should be so much farther along by this point in my journey!” But I also sat down at this point and got a bit of rest, took a swig of water and then pulled out some nuts and dried fruit. Satiating food such as nuts and dried fruit never taste so good as when you are expending a lot of energy up a mountain. Well, the journey continued upward and got a bit more rigorous once passing the 1/2 way mark.

When you do a long hike up a mountain like the Grouse Grind, inevitably, you find yourself with fellow travelers, since those who are of similar ability tend to remain together in one form or another up the hike. Whereas you might take a rest and be passed by someone of similar ability, at some point that person takes their rest and you pass them up and then the pattern continues. But in essence, in addition to the people who pass you permanently and leave you in the “rear view” mirror, you mostly see those who you pass, and then get passed by, etc…. again, those of similar ability. At one point on the journey, “we” (my fellow travelers) reached the 3/4 point. The Grind becomes increasingly difficult as you approach the 3/4 mark and then “summit” to the top. And by this point, at least for me, I am exhausted (think climbing stairs for 1.25 hours by now) and I look at an East Indian man who has been one of these “fellow travelers” and say to him, “I guess there is no turning back at this point?” And we both burst out laughing, along with a few others who have been on the trail with us. The man says to me, “we have definitely gone past the point of no return.” So we continue up, fairly exhausted, but with a sense that the summit is in reach. We have done 3/4ths of the climb.

And then the reward, the summit approaches,… and we see others almost running to the top, despite the steep grade near the top… we can see the lodge at the top of Grouse Mountain… and, that sense of exhilaration of having completed the climb! And the view… how splendid! Psalm 19:1 and 2 splendid!

My trek up the Grouse Grind is completed in 1 hour and 45 minutes, with what I would call a “slow and steady” pace (at the very least, slow, haha). Evidently the record for the fastest climb up the Grind is 25 minutes! Evidently, some run up the Grind trying to beat the record! While doing the Grind at all might not be for everyone, running up it is definitely not for me! I think more in terms of the idea of “gift and opportunity.” I know that 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 is true. Also, I recall in Atul Gawande’s book Being Mortal, Gawande talking about his healthy, active and “tennis-playing” elderly father whose health one day, figuratively-speaking, “fell off a cliff.” His dad simply couldn’t do the rigorous, let alone moderate activities anymore. This inevitability comes to us all and at that point when that day comes for me, I will have to think about who I am as the Beloved before Father in Heaven. I am now 52-years-old and feel things becoming tighter and more achy all the time. I remember my mother in her 70s, visiting me in Vancouver, with her eyes lighting up, because she had learned that the kids were skiing on the smaller local mountains. Mom hadn’t skied for probably twenty years, but loved to ski and she asked, “Michael, do you think I could do it? If I could do just one run down the mountain, I think I would really enjoy that.” I said, “absolutely mom- Whistler, no, but the local mountains would be manageable. So let’s try and make it happen.” Well, mom didn’t get the chance to ski that one run, because an aggressive cancer would claim her life quickly at the age of 77. But she did finish the more important race, that of faith, as she would give her life to Christ the last nine months of her life. What is more, the many opportunities she had to be able to ski in her younger years was always a “gift and opportunity.” I am so grateful at this point in my life I can still do the Grind. I emailed a friend of the same age who last did the Grind with me five years ago… he said, “that’s great you can still do it… I don’t know if I could.” I try to be grateful, rather than presumptuous that my body continues to allow me to do these sort of adventures. And perhaps the joy in the “sadism” (here I quote Tony Lee, haha) is the recognition in gratitude that I still have the opportunity, health and strength as a “gift” to be able to do it. Obviously, that won’t always be the case and mom while she could have done the run down the mountain on skis in her 70s, obviously that opportunity came to a close. And that is OK too.

It’s interesting to think of mom’s life through the lens of “an enduring race” as in many ways, she only enjoyed relationship with Christ in the last nine months of her 77 years on earth. Yet to know that somehow it was Jesus all those years carrying her up and through the rigours of her life that she might be able to enjoy the summit with Him, has always been immensely comforting for me. I heard the late Tim Keller once reflect on how some scholars identify the Mount Moriah on which Abraham would walk with his beloved son Isaac with the understanding that he would need to sacrifice him for the sins of his family,… with the same place (or at least nearby) where Christ would be sacrificed on Calvary. Keller got me to consider Abraham’s heart as a father who would have understood what was needing to be done since the sins of his family were being called to account based on the ancient principle of primogeniture. Yet Abraham, while knowing the right thing to do, nonetheless, would have had a heart that was breaking all the way up the mountain. Keller then got me to think about the heart of Father and the thousand ways his heart must have been breaking when He gave up His Beloved Son in love, for the sins of the world. In a word, for me. Mom completed the rigours of her climb. Or maybe a better way to put it was that Jesus completed the rigours of her climb, on her behalf. As a couple of four-year-olds reminded me, the sacrifice of His life was the tenacious will of the Father securing the salvation of His Beloved. Maybe “the grind” of how we often think of life on the journey, with all its sorrows and heartaches, is meant to have an unmoved joy for us since a greater summit awaits for all who refuse to “give up” on their faith (2 Cor. 4:16).