Companionship 22 July 2024
Good afternoon,
I hope you’re having a good summer, wherever you are spending it. I was preaching yesterday in the church I grew up in in Glasgow, called Greenbank, and thought you may be interested in reading the sermon, which looks forward to the Paris Olympics beginning on Friday, and looks back to the last time the Olympics took place in Paris, exactly 100 years ago…
Eric Liddell: A Century of Fire
The Paris Olympics begin on Friday night with an opening ceremony throughout the city. It is exactly 100 years since the Olympics last took place in Paris in 1924. It is a century since the races made famous in the film Chariots of Fire, sprints featuring Harold Abrahams and Eric Liddell. Even if you can’t remember when you last saw the film, you’ll remember the opening and closing scene – the runners, all men, wearing white, running along a beach, to the stirring sounds of the theme by Vangelis – Dadadadadaaaa-dah. You may know that the beach masquerading as the Kent coast was in fact the West Sands at St Andrews. And I have met one or two graduates, now in their 60s, who as students in St Andrews were among the runners that day – or so they claim.
But let’s return to the hero of the film, Eric Liddell, and the story of his running, of his faith, and how they intertwined.
Liddell was born in 1902 in Tianjin, China, the son of Scottish missionary parents. He came to Britain for boarding school, and then, aged 18, to Edinburgh University to study science. He was already a noted sportsman, and in 1922-23 played rugby seven times for Scotland, on the wing, with a significant turn of speed. But it was running more than rugby where he knew he had an extraordinary gift, and so he laid the oval ball aside to concentrate on sprinting.
Meanwhile, his Christian faith became known to the Scottish University Campaign, which held meetings to share the Christian faith among Scottish students. Liddell was persuaded to speak at these evangelistic meetings – perhaps people drawn to hear a famous Scottish sporting figure would stay to listen to the gospel. And by all accounts, he spoke simply and effectively of the love of God found in Jesus Christ.
His running prowess had been spotted by the selectors of the British Olympic team and he was chosen for the 100m, the blue riband event then as now in the Olympic Games. But Liddell learned that the heats would take place on Sunday 6 July, and he would not run on a Sunday. Liddell’s faith was influenced by the respect for the Sabbath which has been a hallmark of Scottish Presbyterianism at various times and places. There had been campaigns in the late 19th Century for example, for trains not to run on Sundays in Scotland. Liddell was clear. God had given him the gift of speed; he honoured God by training hard and running fast; but none of this overturned God’s commandment to observe the Sabbath and keep it holy.
The British Olympic Association and much of the press were critical. They tried to persuade Liddell to change his mind; they tried to get the French to change the schedule. But nobody would compromise. The solution? For Liddell to run the 200m and 400m instead, for which he had far less experience.
The Olympics came. Harold Abrahams, a fellow-Briton, won the 100m. A few days later, Liddell came third in the 200m. On Friday 11 July came Liddell’s final chance for victory – the 400m, for which he was little fancied. But, as you may very well know, Eric Liddell won that gold medal in a world record time of 47.6 seconds, a mere four and a half seconds slower than the current world record. When Liddell was asked how he had done it, he said this: “The secret of my success over the 400m is that I run the first 200m as hard as I can. Then, for the second 200m, with God’s help, I run faster.”
Now, when the heats of the 100m were being held on the previous Sunday, Liddell was not at the stadium. Instead, he was in the Church of Scotland in Paris, where he preached – his text was Psalm 119:18 Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law. Chariots of Fire amended the reality a little, and had him read Isaiah 40:27-31. And in some ways, the script-writer Colin Welland caught something beautifully right with this choice. The passage begins with a lament that God seems distant. But in fact, God is present, as Creator, and is everlasting – he cannot be weary, he is the giver of strength and power. In the King James Version, read by Eric Liddell in the film, played by Ian Charleson who died as a young man himself of Aids, the final verses seem to be the watchword of Liddell’s life:
30 Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall:
31 But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.
Liddell won gold on 11 July. On the 17th, less than a week later, he was in the McEwan Hall in Edinburgh University to graduate BSc in Science. Many others received their degrees that day, but all were aware that an Olympian was in their midst. The Vice-Chancellor, in fact, made rather a nice speech, in which he said, “Mr Liddell, you have shown that none can pass you but the examiner.”
There is a wonderful photograph of him, lifted on the shoulders of his fellow-graduates, and garlanded with an olive wreath on his head.
He was indeed carried through the streets to the steps of St Giles’ Cathedral where they were going in to the Thanksgiving Service. Liddell paused on the steps and shared words he knew by heart from over the entrance gate to Pennsylvania University: In the dust of defeat as well as in the laurels of victory there is a glory to be found if one has done his best. (Rather nicely, Liddell’s 88 year-old daughter, Patricia Liddell Russell, accepted an honorary doctorate on his behalf from Edinburgh University this summer.)
After this success, this athletic gold and public acclamation, what next for Liddell? Further competition, more records, greater fame? No. He lived one more year in Edinburgh, studying Divinity, then returned to China in 1925 as a science teacher and sports coach at the Mission School in Tianjin. Nine years later he married Florence Mackenzie, the Canadian daughter of missionaries. Three daughters were born to them. In 1937, with the Japanese occupation of Manchuria, Liddell moved to Xiaochang; in 1941 the family moved to Canada but Liddell remained in China, teaching, serving, ministering. In 1943 he was put into an internment camp, continuing to serve his fellow internees. And on 21 February 1945, in the last year of the war, he died of a brain tumour.
Our New Testament reading today (2 Timothy 4:1-8) seems to bring so many of these themes together. Proclaim the message, Paul urges Timothy, as Liddell proclaimed the gospel to students in Scotland, and young people in China. Do the work of an evangelist. And Paul goes on: I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. We feel these words working deeply in Liddell’s life as the runner who would not run, who kept his faith in the face of opposition and his own natural desire to be the fastest man in the world, who fought the good fight under occupation.
In some ways, the years since Paris 1924 seem a long century. Yes, the Christian faith is still real to many in our society, but Sunday observance is less important. I was on the Isle of Harris three or four weeks ago, preaching in Manish-Scarista Church of Scotland, and sensed the deep respect for the Sabbath across Hebridean society, including among young people I met. But many if not most Christians would feel today that an Eric Liddell in 2024 could still honour the Sabbath and keep it holy, while running in the heats, and qualifying for an Olympic final.
And yet in other ways, Liddell’s life and the Sabbath feel thoroughly relevant to our times, our society and world. A Sabbath speaks of something more important than constant activity, buying and selling faster, higher, stronger than anyone else. A Sabbath speaks of something more important than worldly success and individual glory. It seems all too easy for people in public and in private life to give up on their principles, to trade off what matters, to compromise in order to curry favour or gain power. But Liddell, reflecting on 1924, said this: Each one comes to the cross-roads at some period of his life, and must make his decision for or against his Master.
The director of Chariots of Fire, Hugh Hudson, also remembered Liddell’s story in 2012 when the Olympics came to London: he said, Issues of faith, of refusal to compromise, standing up for one’s beliefs, achieving something for the sake of it, with passion, and not just for fame or financial gain, are even more vital today.
Eric Liddell was the last British man to win Olympic gold over 400m (Christine Ohuruogu won the women’s race in Beijing in 2008) and only one other Scottish athlete has won an Olympic gold medal since then – Alan Wells in Moscow in 1980 over 100m (which I remember so well!). Let us wish every success to Laura Muir, Eilish McColgan, Jake Wightman and the rest. But may we all remember what remains as true for Christians in 2024 as it was in 1924 – that the true crown of our lives is not being faster – higher – stronger but faithfulness to the God who gave us feet to run, and hearts to love.
The organist Peter Howard concluded the service by playing the wonderful theme music from Chariots of Fire – to a well-deserved round of applause. The film was on TV yesterday – and is available on the BBC iPlayer for another 28 days. Enjoy!
And feel free to get in touch to discuss anything at all. Chaplains are available to see students and staff throughout the summer.
Yours,
Donald.