I’m gearing up for this summer’s once-every-four years athletic extravaganza. For two weeks every 1460 days, little watched sports get their day in the sun. Gymnastics and swimming will be vaulted from never on television, to prime-time must-see action. Through it all, I’ll be yelling at the TV screen, hoping for American gold.
All eyes will be on two 27 year-old women — Simone Biles, competing as a gymnast in an unprecedented third straight Olympics, and Katie Ledecky, swimming in her fourth straight games. Combined, the pair have 11 olympic gold medals. Both athletes are widely regarded as the greatest of all time in their respective sports.
While the world will see the phenomenal grace with which these athletes move and have their being, it is difficult to fathom the all-consuming dedication both of them have given for the past few decades. By age 14, Ledecky was already swimming 50,000 meters per week. By the time Biles had turned 14, she had left public school to be homeschooled, and spent up to eight hours in the gym every day.
This is both wildly inspiring, and also somewhat perplexing. Is this total devotion to a craft a human triumph or a human tragedy?
The reality is, to find history-making, generation-defying olympic talent, nations must develop pipelines to train thousands and thousands of athletes, who commit to similar levels of total dedication, most of whom never reach the pinnacle of success. The Olympic committee could very easily echo the words of Jesus: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters — yes, even their own life — such a person cannot be my representative.”
This challenge is not unique to sports. Any domain that calls for high levels of excellence will demand many years of focus, determination, and sacrifice. At times, churches can be suspicious of this kind of all-out vocational commitment as a threat to discipleship.
I remember hearing the testimony of Edmund Moy, the director of the U.S. Mint from 2006 to 2011. A committed follower of Christ, he had seen great success in business throughout his life, and was a leader in his local church. But a storm was brewing at the beginning of Moy’s appointment. The subprime mortgage crisis would threaten the existence of several banks and prominent financial institutions, and Moy was thrust into a central role of serving the country amid the worst financial crisis since the great depression.
That role would require exhausting, long days at the office. Needless to say, during that season, Moy wasn’t leading small groups at his church or volunteering for Sunday school. In response, the church’s elders put Moy’s membership status on probation; his dedication to his work was not fitting for a Christian who was called to put God first.
This might seem like a gross example of ecclesiastical overreach and a giant lesson in missing the point, but the echoes of this message are not uncommon. When the topic of work comes up on Sunday, it is often accompanied by warnings of workaholism. And this warning does have its basis–we know the Sabbath rhythm was put in place for a reason. Does the biblical account address this tension?
There is a clue in one of the most quoted verses about work in the Bible, Colossians 3:23. Its scandal is blunted by our familiarity with the verse. “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart.” Really? Work with all our heart? That sounds uncomfortably similar to Jesus’ telling of the greatest commandment, “Love the Lord your God with all of your heart.” So which one is it? Does loving God, or doing our work demand all of our hearts?
The discrepancy is resolved when the second half of Colossians 3:23 is read: “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.” In biblical reasoning, it is possible (even commanded) for us to work with fierce loyalty and single-minded commitment in our labor, because we are instructed to do so with the directional aim of working for the Lord. In this way, our dedication to our work becomes the primary way we live out the greatest commandment.
As I watch athletes pursue Olympic glory this summer, I am reminded of what working with all of my heart looks like. Wholehearted work doesn’t need to be an impediment, but rather, can be the very means by which we pursue the call to love God with all our hearts, minds, souls, and strength.
