The extent of my experience with motor sports involves:<\/p>\n
- \n
- My mother\u2019s enduring, unrequited love for the Mazda Miata (which she absolutely has to buy soon, in candy apple red);\u00a0<\/span><\/li>\n
- My being overtaken often on the highway by cute sports cars, race-car looking vehicles I usually refer to as \u201clong front cars,\u201d and crotch rockets;<\/span><\/li>\n
- Watching the documentary Senna<\/em>, which blew my mind<\/a>;<\/span><\/li>\n
- And attending a 13 hour\u00a0endurance road race <\/a>at the Virginia International Raceway last October, which, let\u2019s be clear, is really a test of the pit crew.<\/span><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n
So, at this event, I wrote little notes to my neighbor, such as, \u201cWhat is a toader?\u201d (The speaker had actually said \u201ctoter,\u201d which, my neighbor explained, is short for motor home toter, or toter truck, a vehicle the speaker uses at some races to set up home-base. There were all sorts of terms I didn\u2019t know for squat, like \u201cflat track,\u201d \u201clocal track,\u201d and \u201cNehemiah.\u201d (Ok, Nehemiah is a book in the Bible, but I had not heard a sermon on it, like, ever.) The seminar was held at a modest hotel with adorable retro-car prints on the wall, very near to the Charlotte Motor Speedway. We could hear the cars revving up Saturday afternoon. (Yea, that sound is sort of sexy.) It lasted all weekend, with long, detailed sessions and very short breaks. I took notes as fast as I could scribble, trying to get a baseline of knowledge so I can write a chapter on motor sports ministries for my book on men and faith.<\/p>\n
![\"CAM00002-1\"](\"https:\/\/www.profligategrace.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/02\/CAM00002-1-300x270.jpg\")
<\/a>With Chaplain Bill Beck (www.racerspastor.com)<\/p><\/div>\n
But my biggest note-taking problem was not my glaring ignorance. It was my \u201cgift of tears.\u201d It was hard to stay analytically on-point because I was inspired. These men and women are working from a beautifully odd pattern of ministry. I am sure they have their faults, and recognition of their capacity to go astray is woven into the training. Accountability and transparency to one another and to their loved ones was one of the refrains. There were other refrains that sounded discordant, given the urgent, hyper-managerial forms of counting-success-ministry I hear often. Here are a few.<\/p>\n
While \u201cGod will open doors,\u201d shed your ideas about notable successes. The Great Commission, as they interpret it, will mean sticking with a community of people for the duration of a season at a raceway, people who are decidedly not there to hear from you. It will mean just being around, visible, tranquil, and attentive enough to earn their trust with daily struggles, be it jealousy, malice, marriage, divorce, alcoholism, financial struggle. People are there to get-their-race-on, not to find Jesus. There is a kind of quest for adrenaline that people in motor sports share. And each of the speakers from the Motor Racing Outreach team exhibited and preached chaplaincy as a kind of antidote, even while it was obvious each of these guys loves racing. They not only talked about the importance of serenity in the mix of a community addicted to speed. They themselves seemed strangely still.<\/p>\n
The very gift that a good motor sports chaplain brings to the raceway \u2013 the gift of quiet, listening presence in a crisis \u2013 can mean that the men they minister to are not keen to acknowledge them later. One of the speakers did an uncanny impression of a guy doing the barely visible dude-nod that says, \u201cYea, I acknowledge you, but don\u2019t you dare come hug me,\u201d to describe the way some men will react after you have become a true gift of the Holy Spirit in his life. Hugging after a win, or maybe even after a loss, is part of the game. But being obviously friends with a guy who has seen you cry over your wife\u2019s infidelity? That is a different matter. So, don\u2019t expect a guy for whom you have been Jesus-with-skin-on to go around talking-up your weekly chapel service. (In fact, don\u2019t expect most of them even to want a chapel service. One of the speakers was clear that counting chapel attendance is totally wrong-headed.)<\/p>\n
Many of the competitors (which, I learned, is a term for the entire racing team) have a tendency \u201cto find their self-worth in racing.\u201d Many of the guys will think \u201cI\u2019m somebody\u201d because of racing. This little fact did not come as a surprise to me. But, my jaw dropped when our speaker said, \u201cWhy would we find our self-worth in some silly thing like sports, like in racing cars?\u201d Truly. He called racing cars \u201csilly.\u201d And, while these people take their ministry seriously \u2013 fourteen straight hours of butts-in-a-chair taking notes and I am clear on that \u2013 they don\u2019t mistake themselves for God. Even with the somewhat crazed-sparkle in their eyes when they talk about racing, they don\u2019t mistake their beloved sport for discipleship. And they seem not to mistake their presence at the track for ushering in the Kingdom. One member of the team told a salient story when, at a big-time champion event, winner after winner thanked Motor Racing Outreach. A guy standing beside him said, \u201cYea, too bad they aren\u2019t thanking Jesus.\u201d Really? Did he just tell that story on himself? Yep. He did.<\/p>\n
There was often language of \u201cinvestment\u201d (this is Charlotte, after all) but we are not supposed to \u201cinvest\u201d in people in order to \u201cleverage them\u201d to reach others. (Young Life-y leadery leaders, are you reading this?) In fact, be aware that \u201cthe Enemy\u201d will tempt you to gravitate toward the people behind the wheel (or the handlebars), when you are often called to go out and be with the concession stand workers and the security guards, not because they will in turn witness and spread the word, but just because, guess what? They matter too. I will confess. I expected them to talk about the big MOMENTS OF MINISTRY around the horrible crashes that I know are a part of the story. But they talked about pumping gas, hanging out at the auto parts store, helping put up a tent, consoling someone whose pet had died. One speaker started talking about the movies Gladiator<\/em> and Remember the Titans<\/em>, and I was like, \u201coh, yep, here we go.\u201d (Eye roll.) Meanwhile, after recounting Denzel Washington\u2019s rousing speech for his team to \u201cHold the Line!\u201d he then said, throwing up his hands, \u201cGuess what? That is not realistic!\u201d When you are in ministry, he explained, you can\u2019t be in it all jazzed up to see results. Otherwise, when you watch men \u201cstall at the cross\u201d (a phrase he attributes to Dale Beaver) you will obsess over what you did wrong. When you see a brother count the cost of discipleship and turn away, you will think you can get it right next time, rather than realizing that it is up to God. We plant seeds, and then, we trust. This allows a good chaplain to be both prepared, with a game plan for each race, but also to be interrupted when someone needs you to go off-script.<\/p>\n
I think all of this would have felt off-base if it had been at a big fancy venue with swanky food. But, it wasn\u2019t. It was right off the highway next to the Five Guys Burgers and Fries. And, at that very joint (over truly amazing fries) Bill Beck (who is probably over 60) told me about how Facebook had transformed his ministry (what? really? there goes another stereotype) and several chaplains traded stories of mission work in Mexico. Their combination of creativity and piety really struck me. These are true improvisers, and they seem really, no-joke, to believe more in God\u2019s power than in anything we can do, imagine, dream-up, or market. One story will have to stand in for many others, because I have to save some of this for the book, right? Apparently one woman persuaded her community to travel to each of the 31 states in Mexico and pray at sites representing the heart of each region. \u201cWhat?\u201d I asked the chaplain telling the story, \u201cWho did she know that gave you all access to all those places?\u201d He smiled. \u201cThe Holy Spirit.\u201d I then realized I was working under the assumption that there was some opaque plan by these Americans to do something or other to change something or other in Mexico. Nope. They really, truly just went to pray. Apparently I need to get to the races more often.<\/p>\n
![\"photo_fixed\"](\"https:\/\/www.profligategrace.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/02\/photo_fixed-225x300.jpg\")
<\/a>Back to the trophy shaped like a giant piston. (You can\u2019t make this stuff up.) On Saturday night, while I was mindlessly watching a hipster\/sexist\/romantic comedy (re Judd Apatow) on HBO, the rest of the conference participants went go-carting. The winner was Alyssa Lasater<\/a>. She evidently trounced the guys. On Sunday morning, before worship, Kyle Froman, from MRO, presented her with the trophy.<\/p>\nShe then turned to another MRO team member, who came in second, and said \u201cGood race.\u201d He smirked and said back, \u201cYea, glad you could dominate me.\u201d She then did a beautiful Tebow, and we cheered.<\/p>\n
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- My being overtaken often on the highway by cute sports cars, race-car looking vehicles I usually refer to as \u201clong front cars,\u201d and crotch rockets;<\/span><\/li>\n