Riding Through

Biking Through
Almost before we knew it, we were transfixed into another time, crossing the creek at Antietam, and cycling through the site of one of the most ferocious battles of the Civil War. As often is the case, yesterday found me reminiscing with several friends about this very trip and the almost mystical emotions it produced,moving me from then, where in 2009 my chief concerns were that next hill and the end of the day, to another place, 150 years earlier and crossing land, converged upon by two great armies. I will never forget it.

Cycling for the "modern" can approximate an earlier generation as they sought to get off the beaten path, collect their thoughts, reflect, contemplate, and even worship. The men with whom I traveled that year, did all of these things, certainly while we were together and I believe also in those quiet moments when we were riding alone. In an ancient day, they walked, sometimes to the temple with the Torah in their minds, and sometimes to the monastery, where they lay silent and prostrate before God. In Reformation, they would confess their sins, while buried in "Sola- Scriptura,"and in Puritan England they would ride horses or walk quietly, if only to find solace in the deepest forest glade. It was, their exercise and it was their discipline.

I take seriously the Apostle Paul's admonition found in I Timothy 4:7-8, to exercise yourself toward godliness. Furthermore, I understand the dichotomy of Spiritual versus physical illuminated in the passage, yet even a casual glance around the block reveals a culture largely sedentary in both physical activity and spiritual discipline. To pursue spiritual fitness while ignoring the vessel God has given us to steward seems to trivialize the resources He has made readily available. To obsessively fixate on the body which is but temporary, seems to ignore the priority God has given us for eternal thinking.

In fact, I find my early morning rides (or runs) a perfect opportunity to work through my prayer list, each mile providing yet another stanza of prayerful chorus, or an opportunity to acknowledge God's greatness, my wife's needs, or that couple that I happen to be counseling. In fact, as the hill unfolds before me and the road passes beneath me, I find it the perfect medium to understand my strengths and weaknesses, the contemplation of God's created glory, and the reach of his grace. And this recognition is not without precedent. America's greatest theologian, Jonathan Edwards, would daily disappear into the woods, sometimes on foot, often on horseback, traveling to that secluded citadel and there, while He processed God's word, he would worship, meditate and contemplate the beauty of God's created Revelation and the special work of re-creation accomplished in his own heart. When he returned his coat was covered with the snowy like paper of jotted thoughts, that would later become the tools for greater theological thought.

So why not grab your mount, your cycle of choice, even your walking stick and get out there–if only to discover the real you, to maintain the vessel that God gave you in peak shape, and discover what the resurrected God may have in store for you today.
MJC