Faith Matters: After your Olympic run is over, you still have a place to turn to.

The Olympics ended a few Sundays ago, leaving this particular fan in proverbial tears. While their conclusion coincided with the onset of preseason football — I know preseason is no fun but what comes after usually is — these Olympic games deserve at least a few moments of reflection before moving on to the gridiron.

Despite limited onlookers in the stands, we the fewer-than-usual on the couch, all experienced incredible once-every-four-year-type feats. From the sportsmanship of high jumpers sharing gold, to the redemptive humility of Simone Biles “untwisting” her way to actually celebrate bronze on the beam, to an Italian replacing Usain Bolt as the fastest man alive. Did not see that one coming!

While a number of on and off field stories drew me in, NBC absolutely blew me away with an interview from former Olympic 100m backstroke champion Aaron Peirsol. Keep in mind the U.S.A. has perennially dominated this event since 1996. Naturally the expectation of keeping that gold stateside would produce an immense amount of pressure, and even more so among athletes separated from their normal support systems of family and friends.

Speaking into this connectionless void, the prior gold medal winners wrote letters to the American favorite Ryan Murphy expressing the sentiment: “It’s OK, you don’t need to feel any pressure from us to keep up this gold medal legacy, just go have fun. It’s the Olympics!”

Peirsol actually constructed his letter on a typewriter, intending his recipient to recognize how much thought had gone into each word. Though he downplayed the uniqueness of their collaborative effort to the host of “Swim Swam” podcast, Peirsol definitely shook the host at his core with these words: “Will your opponent want to shake your hand afterwards?” According to the Olympic legend, that carried more gravity than garnering a medal.

A gold medal winner in 2016, Murphy finished these games with a bronze in the 100 m backstroke, ending the glorious American run. However, he did put an end to any ultimate backstroking legacy, very much the opposite. Only by losing could he appreciate that the legacy didn’t depend upon gold but on grace. Those guys really meant what they wrote. Will Murphy recognize he had already become part of something bigger and more gracious than himself, simply by competing in the games? I hope so.

Wouldn’t it be nice to have a place to go when you finish bronze, or don’t even “medal” at all? Or perhaps you did “medal,” wining something like an argument, a sale, a score, but left the opponent unwilling to shake your hand?

What if a place existed where previous generations of “winners” and “losers” could humbly pass down their own wisdom, failures, experiences, and faith? When we gather for worship, we have a unique fellowship with the good, bad, and ugly of generations’ present and past (Hebrews 12:22). Grace is the common theme, not gold.

What if Christians of all ages identified and appreciated such camaraderie and connection as an even bigger “backstroke family?”

What if older generations typed letters of grace to those younger, sharing their challenges, mistakes, accomplishments, while also sympathetic to new pressures they didn’t experience? What if grace flowed both ways? A church should dream of becoming, in a sense, what it actually, already is.

Perhaps backstroker’s have such a special bond because they can’t see exactly where they are going? Maybe their limited vision connects them, knowing that they need each other to see more clearly?

Regardless, as we enter into yet another school year, and another chapter of COVID-19, we could use a reminder that we see Christ only “dimly” at the moment. Only in time, and in community, will more clarity come. May we backstroke well in humble solidarity, swimming in grace, the race before us.

Pastor Geoff Henderson, Harbor Community Church can be reached at geoff@harborcommunitychurch.org. or go to Harborcommunitychurch.org or inthekeyofh.com. Faith Matters is a regular feature of The Herald written by local clergy members.