A Wee Blether

A now-retired religious history professor of mine used to open a lecture with this story. One Sunday, many years ago now, he was driving his wife to church when he saw what he thought was a very strange site: a woman running quickly down the street. He panicked for a moment ready to do something, until he realized that she was running by her own volition. So he shook his head, remembered the good times past, and said in his South Carolina drawl, “Ma’am, what are you running from and why aren’t you going to church?”

This week on her blog, One Hand Clapping, Julie Clawson reports on some downtown Austin churches requesting the city to do something about the number of races downtown on Sunday mornings. Julie’s post is very timely, as I was planning a post on similar things this week.

Last Sunday morning I ran the ING Half Marathon in downtown Atlanta (the perks of not having a regular Sundaysunday morning gig this year). Though only in its third year, the race has quickly become an Atlanta tradition and registration was filled a few weeks before the race. 15,000 folks competed.

Last year I rode my bike to church the morning of the race because I knew I couldn’t get to downtown Decatur during the marathon. If you’re trying to go to church with an early service in downtown Atlanta on the race morning, you’re pretty much stuck. The race, its fans, and the cordoned off streets are certainly a big bother to area churches. There’s nothing a like a good bother to complain about, but a few other ponderings come to mind.

First, it strikes me wonderfully ironic that the runners are using their bodies and mass transport for the race, while church members tend to be driving into downtown from suburbs. When these great downtown churches were built, folks walked to church. Now they can’t get to church because of walkers and runners.

Second, at least in Atlanta, the race organizers promise they’re not out to get the churches, Rather, Sunday morning is the only time it’s safe and legal to shut down streets for 6 hours. You can’t do that on Saturday mornings in Atlanta — the only other big races are on Thanksgiving and July 4th.

Third, though I can’t speak to the frequency of races in Austin, I think the Atlanta one, at least, is here to stay. And let’s face it, it’s a great community event — one that emphasizes bodies and health. I’ll be honest: nothing last Sunday from any of the churches we passed made me want to attend that church. On the other hand, there were stores of all kinds giving out water, Georgia Tech had a huge crowd out, Race for the Cure people were everywhere, and local neighborhoods were out with bands and cheering squads and bull horns. I might want to live in Decatur because of their fantastic cheering section, or support Agnes Scott College who let the marathoners run through their campus, but last Sunday morning I saw no church welcoming the stranger.

I was in my favorite Decatur running store this week when I mentioned the church complaint thing. And the guy at the counter said, “You know what I don’t understand is why the churches don’t bring folks out and cheer. Why don’t they sign-up to give out water? Isn’t it like a mission opportunity or something?”

His words, not mine, but I think he’s on to something.