Saturday morning I was out running in the rain. I’ve been challenged by a friend to try to run a half-marathon. So there I was, slowly shuffling along, getting drenched, enjoying God’s creation.

Well… ok, I wasn’t enjoying the creation too much because I was striving just to keep going: one more step, one more breath. I’m in such terrible shape that I have to stop every 10-15 minutes or so in order to rest. I jog for a bit in my out-of-shape condition, then I am forced to walk, to breathe and recover. “Rest” is when I just can’t strive anymore.

In one of my rest periods, I was struck by the thought – is my Christian life this way? I strive against my flesh, the world, and the devil; when I just can’t strive anymore, I have to stop to rest. Is that what grace is – when God gives me a break from the struggle of this exhausting life?

The Bible does seem to portray the Christian life as a running race. There is no doubt that our lives on earth involve effort and striving against sin. 1 Corinthians 9:24 refers to the self-control and discipline that we willingly desire to have as we “run in such a way that we may win.” Romans 8:23 proclaims that we “groan within ourselves,” longing for the coming redemption of our body when Christ returns.

But I’m not talking about that “end of life” rest (eschatological rest) here. I’m talking about my poor fitness. My tiredness in my run, my gasping-for-air need for a break before the end. Oh, I look forward so much to the finish, when I will cease from running, have a cold drink, perhaps even collapse to the ground in relief.

But is there any real “rest” during the run?

One line of theological thinking says – No, there is no rest. Struggle defines the Christian life: keep on striving against your sin. Hebrews 12:4 is sometimes brought up: “You have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood in your striving against sin.” Look, this thinking goes, you think you’re tired, but you haven’t actually made enough effort yet. Work harder, don’t think about rest. This is what God requires of you.

The main thought of this line of thinking is that God requires you to run. You don’t get rest. Go!

There seems to be some truth here. Sometimes what I need is more personal effort. I can get lazy, and mentally stop before my body really needs to. Perhaps I underestimate the power over sin that has been given to me in Christ.

But this seems to be a focus on running as a tough, barely-holding-on, joyless slog. Is that really the right emphasis?

Is there real “rest” during the run?

Another line of theological thinking – perhaps a better one – sees the question differently. Instead of seeing periods of striving and periods of non-striving, what if the striving came from an underlying experience of rest? What if running was really restful?

In God’s grace, there seems to be support for saying – the jog is restful.

Look at Matthew 11:28, the great invitation of Jesus Christ: “Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

Hmm. That’s my Savior talking. I’ve come to Him; He promises rest right now. I’m weary and heavy laden, so tired of my sin and my struggle. Could it be that my entire metaphor is wrong… that in a real sense my Christian life is about resting in Christ? About really appropriating the rest that He says He gives?

But, you might argue, there are responsibilities and duties and effort in the Christian life! Yes there are. That’s what Christ is speaking about as He continues:

Matthew 11:29-30: “Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”

There’s work going on in my life.  But Jesus doesn’t seem to put that work at odds with the rest that He gives to us right now.

I think, at the end of the day, that my problem is me. I don’t think rightly about my Christian life. My wrong thinking is that it is up to me, and about me, and focused on my striving. As I dwell there I get tired. I think that this is hard, this is heavy. I need a break from the effort that God is requiring of me.

What rest to think – my Christian life is about Christ, focused on His work, His finished striving. Because of this fact, I gladly take His yoke, and surrender all authority and direction and my entire life to Him. I strive to keep that unseen fact a reality in my life. This is the yoke of faith. Not focusing on the one more step, but on the One who ran for me.

With that thought – that I have found rest in Christ – I also find that my life is not really filled with the super-effort on my part that I imagined. I’m fully energized and excitedly desiring to help others find this rest as they also run through life. This yoke is easy. This burden is light. Is this not the perspective of Matthew 11?

This perspective gives Hebrews 12 new light. Right after a whole chapter on faith, the author writes, “Fix your eyes on Jesus.. consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart” (Hebrews 12:1,3). I should think – Jesus endured such hostility from me, a sinner. And yet He still loves me. What motivation.

Then, v. 4: “You have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood in your striving against sin.” No, I have not. But I know Someone who has. In striving against my sin, Jesus shed blood. So I am absolutely secure in Him. And the circumstances that happen to me will not shake me from that knowledge. I won’t think of God as wrathfully judging my sin (which has already been paid for by Christ). I can rest in the yoke of my Savior.

And this gives me rest as I strive against the sin of the world against me, which is the point of v. 4 (it is parallel to v. 3, Jesus bearing up under other’s sin). My difficult experiences don’t drain me – I’m resting in the blood of Christ. This gives me rest because I know that God isn’t whipping me or punishing me but lovingly shaping and molding and teaching me.

A better metaphor, I hope, sees all of jogging as restful. Even through the striving. Jogging is a time to pray, a time to wonder at creation, a time to think on form and a time to have victory. A time to strive, not in a out-of-breath-I-have-nothing-left way, but in the body of one who is supremely fit and able. That’s not just me in a little bit better shape, but in my Savior.

Now if only my physical body would get the message that jogging is restful.