For those of you who may be tiring of getting inundated with update emails, this might be the last of my training camp recaps, pending any irresistible recollections. Hope you’ve enjoyed them!
EASIER SAID…
We stood on the shore, the 9 men of R squad.
In our hands were logs, collected meticulously from the surrounding woods, roughly the size of an arm. We listened intently to carefully chosen words on the value of “brotherhood,” of our tendency towards pride and refusal to admit out shortcomings. We nodded in enthusiastic agreement towards our disposition to individualism and isolation, and that we wanted to be a community of self-sacrifice and vulnerability. These are the things every community desires, every brotherhood needs, and every individual desperately refuses to let go of.
…THAN DONE
Our task: swim across the lake with your logs, and start a fire on the opposite shore.
I looked at the moss-covered log in my hands, and out across the span of water that lay before me. I can keep myself afloat, I can get myself across body of water – it won’t look good, but I can get there. I contemplated the best way to hold the log for my journey. If I knew any actual swimming strokes, the log would’ve effectively interrupted those plans, turning my course of action into a desperate doggy-paddle that probably looked as frantic and futile as it felt. I’m in the water, hesitant to leave the sand bank where my feet so comfortably rested on the floor of the lake. Ahead of me are two segments, a short swim to another shore and twice that distance to our destination.
I cast off into deeper water, immediately burdened down by the awkward weight of the log resting on my hand. Every appendage flails wildly, attempting to propel myself forward. The doubts immediately begin flooding into my mind, the reality of my inadequacy. I hardly make it halfway of the first leg and know that either the log is going down or I am. In a gasp of frustration and disappointment, I abandon my log to splash beside me and float alongside the rest of the journey. At the first shore I look at the other men, the handful who similarly 
abandoned and those others who were able to hold strong, those who held stronger than me.
I stare at my floating log in dejection, imagining the water being absorbed into every grain, rendering it, and effectively myself, unusable for the awaiting fire. I push on for the final leg of the swim. I toss the log ahead of me resentfully with every few strokes, trying to redeem myself by reaching the shore. I hear some discussion behind me as a teammate accepts a life jacket from the supervising canoe. I hardly turn around, knowing that there is nothing I can offer them, knowing that I‘ve already been defeated.
AN UNCOMFORTABLE COMMUNITY
Sometimes, rewriting your thoughts and actions can be a painful process. I don’t think we need a play-by-play of my flawed mentality and course of action, I’ll let you pick that apart yourself.
At some point, community must move past a collection of individuals pursuing their own goals in close proximity. At some point, we need to realize that there is no joy in reaching the finish line first while our brothers are left unable to finish. There was nothing rewarding when I got to the final shore, because I knew I had gotten there alone and defeated.
We were intended for this uncomfortable community: to bear with one another in the midst of our shortcomings (Colossians 3:13), to come alongside and carry burdens (Galatians 6:2), to “be devoted to one another in brotherly love” and to “honor one another above yourselves” (Romans 12:10), in all its intimidating vulnerability and inconvenience.
If this year is about me, than I’ve already been defeated. In a world that affirms looking out for #1, let us see the hopelessness that is found in our isolated individualism. I am looking forward to pressing into community to the point of discomfort this year. Let us keep moving the foundation of our thoughts from the “I” to the “us” and maybe we will have something to rejoice over when we get to the other shore.
