Running Toward What Cannot Be Taken

When Eric Liddell arrived at the 1924 Paris Olympics, he was Scotland's fastest man — the heavy favorite in the 100 meters. Then he learned the heats were scheduled for a Sunday. Liddell, a devout Christian, quietly withdrew from his best event.

The British Olympic Committee pressured him. The press mocked him. Even the Prince of Wales tried to change his mind. But Liddell had settled something about himself that no gold medal could unsettle. He knew he was a child of the Most High before he was a sprinter.

He entered the 400 meters instead — an event he had barely trained for — and stunned the world by winning gold in a world-record 47.6 seconds. Later, as depicted in Chariots of Fire, he explained it simply: "God made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure."

Here is what made Liddell extraordinary. He did not find his identity in running. He brought his identity to running. There is a world of difference between the two.

So many of us try to extract our worth from what we do — our career, our role in the family, our accomplishments. But the Apostle Paul had already settled the question: "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." Our deepest identity is not something we earn on the track. It is something the Almighty has already spoken over us. And what He speaks, no scoreboard can contradict.