By Brad Locke
July 8, 2005

(AgapePress) - Tell me, what's more exhilarating: Letting that fly ball fall in front of you -- or diving headfirst with glove extended? Running out of bounds -- or lowering your shoulder and unloading on the would-be tackler? Taking the bunny slopes -- or flying down the side of a mountain?

One of my favorite memories, oddly enough, involved the end of a game that my Dixie League baseball team lost. I was playing third base. We were up by a run, I believe, and the other team had two men on. They hit one to the outfield. One kid scored, and the throw to third was errant, prompting the other base runner to dash home.

As the ball rolled toward the on-deck circle, things seemed pretty hopeless for us. Nevertheless, I raced after the ball and in one motion -- I'm still not sure how I did this -- I lunged toward the ball, plucked it up with my bare hand and whipped it toward home plate just before I skidded on the hard, uneven dirt.

Turned out a good throw probably would've nailed the guy, but it went wide. As I picked myself up, I brushed myself off and winced because of a large scab that had been ripped from my elbow. I was angry and beat up, but there was something invigorating about what I'd just done -- not just the physical exertion, but the fact that I'd abandoned all caution for the sake of excellence.

That is what makes sports so grand -- its demand for risk. It is not for the timid. The timid get their helmets ripped off and layups air-mailed into the fifth row. To achieve athletic greatness, one must become vulnerable to a certain amount of danger. One must be willing to sacrifice comfort and safety for a greater cause.

I wish my faith was so bold, because the Christian life is best lived dangerously. In other words, playing it safe won't yield much fruit. People who risk friendships or jobs or, even worse, their own lives for the sake of the Gospel will get the most results. I'm not merely talking about "saving" people. I'm talking about the joy one finds in doing God's will and the intimacy with Him and maturity it breeds.

A missionary, Ed Hartman, recently spoke at our church. He challenged the notion that we deserve to be safe, pointing out that God does not guarantee our personal safety. It was one of the reasons Hartman decided to return to the missionary field. If you disagree with him, I point you to Paul and his fellow apostles, all of whom suffered much for Christ's sake and were martyred.

The key to taking risks, of course, is being prepared. It is foolishness to expose oneself to danger without proper training. If I stepped on a field as a running back for the Dallas Cowboys, I'd get killed (literally). In the same way, if I tried to engage an atheist in debate without being trained in my theology, I'd quickly be shouted down.

One must also employ wisdom and not take pointless risks. If it's a tie game in the ninth inning and you don't think you can reach that fly ball, let it drop so that the hitter can't take extra bases and get in scoring position. Same goes for witnessing to someone who's been burned by so-called Christians before. You don't want to rattle on about sin without showing them some tenderness and love. Gauge the situation and determine what's necessary for it.

Like growing old, being a Christian isn't for wimps. Living the faith well -- or fighting "the good fight" -- requires strict discipline, self-denial and a willingness to expose oneself to danger.

This is where trust comes in. God may not deliver you from suffering right away, but He will sustain you and ultimately reward you. And the knowledge that you have risked all for His sake -- that will exhilarate you.