Growth demands a temporary surrender of security.
– Gail Sheehy

John 14:12
I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.

Over the spring and summer, an interesting phenomenon occurred in my life. I slowly started realizing that there were other people around me who ran, and not only ran like me, but ran because of me. Wait, that’s a little unclear. It’s not like I was chasing them, or had called the authorities on them and forced them to live their lives as fugitives. What I mean is that I started hearing that my running over the past 2 years had influenced other people to take up running.

There’s something pretty cool about being “that guy.” You know, the guy who starts a trend, or uses a cool new word that everyone else mimics, or writes a song that other people sing in the shower. It was a great feeling to know that something I was doing had played that big of a role in someone else’s life, and I was pretty satisfied that there were men who would live longer, healthier lives because of me. I even got to help pace one of those guys – my good friend, Chris Pate – to his first half-marathon finish in D.C. along the way. It was a great, rewarding feeling, and it lasted right up until he beat me in another half-marathon a couple of weeks later.

Wait, is that even legal? Wasn’t there some kind of unwritten runner’s code of honor that forbid newer runners from beating the people who saved their lives by introducing them to the sport? After all, hadn’t I logged at least 3 times as many miles over my short-but-longer-than-his running career? I was perplexed, and that feeling I’d had about being “that guy” was quickly feeling similar to how an old, slow runner feels at the end of a long run. I tried to find solace in knowing that if I age-graded my race, I probably would have beaten him, since he is quite a bit younger than me. But that didn’t help much, because it felt very similar to being told that you look good for someone your age. Not quite the same as being hot, of course, but hey, in my current state of loss, it was at least something to grab onto, and it helped…a little…until about a month later when I ran a local 5k with another man who confessed that he had just started running again after seeing the aforementioned back-stabbing running partner, Chris, pick up running (which we all know is due to me, even if it is eerily similar to the multi-level marketing approach to credit-taking).

Ahhh. There it was. I was starting to feel like “that guy” again, and since this man was at least 2 age groups above me, I was going to be able to hold onto the benefit of influencing him for…about 24 minutes and 18 seconds. That’s how long it took him to run that 5k, and I was a half a minute behind him when I finally crossed the finish line. Needless to say, I was even more confused. Aren’t I supposed to beat them if I’m responsible for what they’re doing?

Well, not necessarily. In fact, the best thing that I’ve learned in all of this is that the reward for influencing others isn’t in always beating them, but in seeing them succeed. There is so much satisfaction in someone else’s success when you know that you played a role in it. It is the confident leaders who can live with that, and Jesus was one of them. He’s God – did you catch that? – and yet He said that we would do greater things than He had done. Greater. And He’s okay with that.

I’ve been around fearful, small-minded people who think they’re leading people, but they really aren’t. They’re just beating them. They’re making people race them so that they can prove – for the millionth time – that they’re still the top dog. They have to win in order to be “that guy.” But Jesus knew Who He was, and because of that, He wasn’t afraid to lose, even though His loss on the cross ended up only being temporary. He wasn’t afraid of meekness, humility, or dying the death of a criminal. And when His work here was complete, He was 100% okay with handing off the win to us. Oh, I definitely want to be “that guy.”

Of course, I wouldn’t mind a win over my friends every now and then, too.

Matthew 21:5
“See, your king comes to you, gentle and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

I woke up this morning full. It kind of felt like while I was asleep someone had force-fed me, and when I saw the headlines at FoxNews.com I realized what it was: while I slept, someone had shoved more Obama down my throat. In case you missed it, he won the Nobel Peace prize. Wow.

Now, I could say quite a bit of stuff about that from a political slant, but that really isn’t the purpose of Evotions. I can tell you, though, why this passage of Scripture immediately came to my mind when I saw the news about President Obama’s win.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see a great contrast between President Obama’s rise to fame and Jesus’ arrival on the scene. One has all the publicists and media coverage money can buy proclaiming how great he is, and the other sent two disciples to get a donkey for Him to ride on as He entered Jerusalem. Not just any donkey, either. This one was borrowed. That’s right. The King of kings could have said “Poof!” and had a mighty steed appear, but instead sent some of his guys down to Rent-a-Center to get a donkey for a day.

In that day, mighty warriors and great men rode horses. I’m guessing that President Obama would have ridden one, too. But not Jesus. He was content to simply ride a rental, and a very slow rental at that. It was no accident that Jesus rode a donkey. It wasn’t because they’d already rented out all the great rides or because He hadn’t gone to freecreditreport.com and now had to ride the worst of the lot. Nope, He rode the donkey so that He would be even more approachable for the people He was coming to save. A prancing horse would have scared people away. A fast horse would have been hard to keep up with. But this slow ride allowed the hurting and the oppressed to be near Him. His lowly appearance made Him real, and look at the response.

People came to throw down coats along the path He was riding. They actually went and cut branches down and threw them in His path to honor Him. Their response was unrehearsed and heartfelt. They weren’t forced, manipulated, or told they better cheer or else their health insurance would be taken away. Jesus came to serve, and because of that the people rallied to Him. They couldn’t help it; they just wanted to be as close to this King as they possibly could, and He wanted that, too.

“Press the flesh” is a pretty big phrase in politics. It means “shake hands and mingle with people, especially when running for public office.” Typically it is done after a speech, or at a school surrounded by cute children watching the candidate read a book while sitting in a chair so small that his knees touch his ears. “Pressing the flesh” is what you do when you’re trying to force-feed yourself – or your agenda – down the throats of your people. But not Jesus. He knew that when you lead people by serving their needs first, inevitably the “flesh will press” you.

So serve people where they are. Walk slowly enough that even the most hurting among them can still be near you, and you will find no lack of people with whom to share the grace of a King who rides rentals.