I Endure, You Endure, We All Endure Till the Kingdom

Aloha and hallelujah! It's beautiful to have such amazing music acquired. Just wonderful. It sets the tone for the service. And again, it's a hard act to follow. We have so much beautiful music at this festival so far. As Mr. Preston mentioned, my wife Elizabeth and I are here from Minneapolis, St. Paul in Minnesota. Just loving the opportunity to fellowship with all of you, to connect with friends we know and friends we haven't seen for quite a while, as well as meet new friends.

And really to get a final shot of some warm tropical weather before we head back into the Minnesota ice box. So that's kind of nice, too. I have to admit to feeling a little bit intimidated when I found out that Dr. Moore was going to be speaking on the same day that I am. Back in the 80s, he was my professor of English at college.

And I don't know, I got that sudden college anxiety, and I feel like I got up my grammar game today. So thankfully, he was a very merciful instructor, so I'm not too worried about it. But it's certainly a privilege to get to see him again. For the last three years, our UCG congregation in Duluth and the Twin Cities, we've sponsored a bike event, a cycling event in September, which we call the Gear Grinder Classic. Perhaps you've heard of it in the worldwide news. It's been advertised there, mentioned there a few times.

And each year, the ride has grown in participation. This year, we had about 10 more riders than the previous year. We're 35. Not a huge number, but definitely an increase. And they're from all over the country, who came together to do what we jokingly call the 3-4 hour Sufferfest. And it's not really. It's depending on your skill level and your fitness level, but it can be challenging. I'm going to show you a slide.

This photo was taken this year, just before the ride start. We didn't look quite this fresh after 3-4 hours in the saddle. We're still smiling, but we were just a little bit more spent. And that's really why I wanted to share this photo with you. Not just as a shameless promotion, although if you're interested and intrigued, we'd love to have you join us up in Minnesota next September. But really, what I'd like you to do is turn to, if you would, in your Bible, 2 Timothy 4. We'll talk about the reason I wanted to show that photo. So what does a guy who's pushing 60 think he's doing organizing a cycling event anyway? Can you say midlife crisis?

Maybe, perhaps. But, truthfully, there's another reason. Our God created us to do hard things together. He designed our reward centers in our brains, in our chemical systems, in pathways in our brains. Those dopamine pathways, if you will, that drive us to overcome obstacles, to overcome challenges, to bond together, and join together with other people.

Because we work better together to overcome obstacles in the pursuit of a reward. But in our age today, as we know, those systems have been largely hijacked by a media-crazed culture that just provides us a constant supply of free dopamine hits while you sit on your couch watching some kind of a box, whether the one on your wall or the one in your hand, scrolling. I've been known to scroll, and I'm guilty as anyone, but my excuse is I'm scrolling through pictures of my grandchildren, so I think that might be a healthy use of that.

But today in our age, we are so much more engaged than we ever have been in the past in terms of consuming media. But as one speaker mentioned, we've never been more isolated, and we have never been more lonely. And that's not how God designed us to function on a physical or a spiritual level. There's something about doing hard things with other people, sharing in physical or mental challenges, or struggles that builds camaraderie that creates synergy and motivates and inspires achievement and growth toward a common goal, a common purpose.

And that can be true of any endeavor, whether it's enduring a 35 or 68-mile sufferfest, as I said, pedaling alongside another group of writers. But it's also most certainly true of what brings you and I here today, and this goal that we're here to anticipate that we strive together for as a brother, and we read that here in 2 Timothy 4. Paul says here in verse 7, 2 Timothy 4, verse 7, he says, I fought the good fight. I finished the race. I've kept the faith. Finally there's laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day.

And not to me only, but also to all who have loved his appearing. That's the goal, right? And that's the struggle, and we've heard about that this week, this festival. And that's what we've been called in this age, and we share that goal to achieve.

And having faithfully finished that race, we look forward to one day receiving that crown on that day. But as Paul writes here, you know, it's not just us, is it? It's a goal that all those who love his appearing, who have called to this purpose, share in. We just don't endure this struggle alone, and that's by design, isn't it? Because others have an incredible impact on our ability to endure that struggle, and we on them. I want to talk today about that impact that you and I, as fellow strugglers, have on one another, and our ability to endure to the end, to reach the goal of finishing that race in which we've been called to participate in, and to ultimately receive that crown.

And I want to illustrate the impact, if you'll indulge me, that impact, and the power of it by sharing a personal story that served powerfully to drive that lesson home to me, and perhaps it will to you as well. We had a saying at my house when I was a kid, when we knew that we were going to get ice cream, which, like I think I heard a few other speakers say, it was our favorite food.

It's one of my favorite foods. And my sister and I would have that goal in our heads, and we'd be excited about it in the back seat, and we'd be chanting this jingle with glee. And I'm not sure where it came from, or if anyone else said it, but it was big in my family. If it's in your family as well, you can probably say it in your own head. You scream, I scream.

I scream for ice cream. I love it. We're all together on this. We all scream for ice cream. It's catchy, and we thought so. Anybody else who's familiar with that brings back, I'm sure, creamy, wondrous memories to your minds.

You know, every year, as part of my training to prepare for the Gear Grinder, I spent some time training on what many in the Twin Cities refer to affectionately as Pete's Hill. It was named after a gentleman by the name of Pete McNair, which some of you may remember. He was an elder in the Twin Cities United congregation, who was taken from us much too soon. He was an avid cyclist in the area, and this hill was one of his favorite routes. And so we affectionately refer to it by his name, Pete's Hill.

Pete's Hill is a stretch of road that rises two miles to the south out of the small town of Afton, Minnesota, which sits kind of on the edge of the St. Croix River Valley down in a valley. And it was to this hill that I made my way on this particular morning. Now, the one downside, or the upside, depending on your perspective, to riding on Pete's Hill, is that at its base, just across from the parking lot where you park your car, sits Selma's. And Selma's ice cream parlor... wow! Some of the best ice cream one could experience in the modern world. My opinion, of course. And as you can probably tell, I've enjoyed it a few times.

And so, you know, if I wasn't careful, a visit to Selma's after a ride could definitely derail any benefit I was going to get out of conquering Pete's Hill that day. But I've got a plan, you see. Always... they say never go in without a plan. And so I had a plan to deal with this risky situation, and I figured that if I worked hard enough, if I burned enough calories on Pete's Hill, I could reward myself with one really, really small serving of that creamy goodness. Now, I was deluding myself because their servings are not small, but we won't go there.

But I just wanted one scoop of heaps of love. One of my favorites. Hedonistic concoction of Oreos, brownies, cookie dough, pecans, caramel and chocolate ripples. All packed together into vanilla ice cream. Wow. Delicious. That was the goal. That was the reward. And just one scoop. No more, no less. How much damage could that do, really? And it would just give me enough motivation to get it done, but not enough to undo getting it done, if you will. So, you know, aimed with what seemed like sound logic to me in anticipating that creamy goodness that I would enjoy at the end, I set up, pedaling up that hill, up Pete's Hill.

And that's when that jingle that I mentioned popped into my head. You scream, we scream, we all scream for ice cream. Just showed up again after all those years. And I was feeling pretty confident. I was feeling pretty optimistic. But you know, that was about to change.

And change quickly. Now, I knew that I could get up that hill at least once. I'd done it before as part of a longer ride. And, you know, even though I had gained a few pounds, 10 to 15, who's counting? But the plan this day was to do what I'd seen a lot of other cyclists do up Pete's Hill.

I was going to get to the top this time. I was going to turn back around, come down to the bottom, and immediately turn and ride back up the hill. I'd seen a lot of other cyclists do it. It was a popular training route. And so I thought that's what I would do. And I hoped I could do two of them. That was my goal. I figured that that would be pretty good for my first time. And that would be enough to justify that really, really small scoop of ice cream at Selma's. Well, that was my plan in my head anyway, until about halfway up the first climb.

My body and my brain began to stage a rebellion. My legs began to scream. My lungs were burning. And my brain was telling me, yeah, no. Okay, Tony, what are you thinking? You can't do this. You're not ready for this yet. Maybe one time, one time. Maybe that would be enough. You can come back and try two repeats another day. This hill's not going anywhere. That's plenty enough time, plenty enough to earn a reward. And just when I began to kind of grow comfortable with that, with the wisdom of that decision, this other cyclist, out of nowhere, pulled up beside me, heading up the hill, this guy who appeared to be about my same age, only much, much more fit than I was, and this guy had like calves the size of bowling balls, if you know what I'm talking about.

And he pulled up alongside me, he looked over, and he grinned, and he said, morning, tough slog, isn't it? And I was like, that's all I could do. That's all I could do. And then he started his way up the mountain ahead of me, and I watched as he pulled up to the hill. Now, there's something mentally that happens to you as a cyclist when you're passed by another cyclist. Maybe it happens to runners as well, I don't know, I'm not a runner. But it kind of sends a jolt through you, a little burst of adrenaline.

Suddenly, I felt a little more pep in my pedal stroke, not enough, you know, that anybody watching me would probably tell, but just enough extra pep for me to have a small mental shift from, you know, I'm going to die on this hill to, hmm, maybe. Maybe. And that was all it took. And looking at the top, which I could see by now, I continued to pedal on up that hill, and I saw that other rider at the top. He'd reached the goal at the top, and he crossed the road, he turned facing down the hill, and then stopped to grab a drink, and he took his helmet off, and his bandana, and was squeezing the perspiration sweat out of his hair, or his hair as his bandana.

And I managed somehow to reach the top while he was still there, and I think he might have been waiting for me, I'm not sure. I like to think that was true. And so I crossed over the road, and I pulled up alongside of him, and after my lungs stopped burning, and I'm trying the best to sound like I wasn't tired, and I was fresh, yeah.

I said, hi! Nice day for a ride. How many are you doing today? To which he replied, you know, hey, yeah, hi again, this is number eight for me.

And he goes, I'm dying, I'm like, you think?

But I'm hoping to do two more. My goal is to finish with ten, he said. Now, as my jaw dropped to the handlebars, all I could say was, wow. Nice. And then I didn't know what else to say, and so I waved goodbye, and I headed down the hill, still exhausted, and now feeling like kind of a pretender. But hey, you know, someone was waiting, and I figured, even if I, you know, with one trip up Pete's Hill, I earned it. At the worst, it was a break even. And after meeting that guy, frankly, I needed some comfort food. But you know, riding down that hill, I started thinking, yeah, wait a minute, wait a minute, he can do ten? What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? I mean, sure, he's in better shape, but I could do two. Really? I can do two, right? I mean, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least give it a shot, if I didn't try. And so I got to the bottom of the hill, I turned around, I took a long drink of water, not long enough, a few deep breaths, and I began to push myself steadily up that hill again. Repeat number two. Here we go. Well, he passed me again about a minute later, heading up to his ninth ascent.

On a physical level, my second climb was worse than the first. No doubt. I couldn't feel anything. But mentally, for some strange reason, it felt a little bit easier. A little better. Not much, but a little. And when I was about two-thirds of the way up the climb, having lost all sensation in my legs, contemplating a call to 911, the other rider already made his way up, and he turned back, and he was coming down the other side, and as we passed, he was on the other side coming down, and he yelled over to me. And he was visibly shaking his head. He says, I don't know about this. Well, hearing that, another lightning bolt went through me, and suddenly I was alarmed. For some reason, and I didn't know, and I wasn't quite sure why, it mattered to me that he got his tent.

And I had the sense that he had yelled over to me as a plea for encouragement. And so I did, and you know, I don't know how I did. I don't know how I yelled, because I could hardly breathe, but I just bellowed out, You've got this, man! Just one more! You can do it! Now, it didn't occur to me until I'd finally reached the top of the hill, and my brain fog lifted, and then it hit me.

How would it be for me to yell all of that encouragement at him to do one more, and then I ride back down to my truck and just leave him there on the hill? Not even being with him on the hill to see it through.

And for some reason I felt this kind of a strange camaraderie with this guy that I'd never met before, like we were brothers in arms, we were fighting in the trenches together, we had each other's back, we're conquering the same obstacle or same limits together. We hadn't shared more than two sentences, but somehow I felt he expected me to get that last hill repeat in with him.

And you know, suddenly I expected that of myself. I didn't want to let him down. In that moment I realized I had no choice but to do the right thing. I was locked into doing not two, which was my original goal, three hill repeats. Which for me felt like 20 to his 10, even if it killed me, which frankly I was not so uncertain it wouldn't.

I'm going to pause there because I want to come back later and share how that last ascent turned out. Turn if you would to Hebrews 12. Hebrews 12. Why am I sharing this story? Well, this experience climbing that hill that day with that other cyclist, it triggered some thoughts. I was actually on the hill while I was climbing and as I was finishing the ride.

Because you know, as we're being reminded during this festival, you and I are in training. We know that. That's not new to us. The struggles in this life are preparing us.

They're getting us in shape for that future that lies ahead. And it's a bit of a slog, frankly, isn't it? It's a bit of a climb. This lifelong training session that you and I are in, but our God, He's put us together on this hill, you see. To struggle. To endure this climb for a reason. A reason that is, as we'll see, has very much to do with that story that I just shared. And here in Hebrews 12, after recounting the names and actions of great heroes of faith that have preceded us, examples of men like Abel, Abraham, women such as Sarah, Rahab, the Apostle Paul writes, beginning here in verse 1 of Hebrews 12, and I'm reading from the ESV, Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

Now, obviously, we know our greatest example, the one to who you and I look to is Jesus Christ himself. That's a given, right? But I want to focus today on those we read of here at the beginning of this passage, that cloud of witnesses, because they have a critical role to play in helping each one of us, you and I, and do as well. It says we're surrounded by this great cloud of witnesses. The Greek word translated cloud here is nephos, n-e-p-h-o-s. And it can also be translated as throng or multitude.

And so we have this multitude of heroes of faith, inspiring and urging us on from the grave. I don't know about you, but I find it challenging sometimes to identify with them on one level. They seem larger than life, so much more, I don't know, spiritual, as if in a sense they have calves the size of bowling balls and they're just nowhere like me, you know, nothing that I can compare myself to.

It's tempting to see the way I viewed that guy who passed me on the bike. He and I's way up that to his ten hill repeats while I struggled with the idea of just even doing one or two. He seemed super human to me. These heroes of old, this cloud of witnesses that Paul writes about here, they seem super spiritual in many ways.

And we're humbled and we're awed by those who went before us. But the truth is, we're told here that we're joint heirs. We're joint heirs with them. We run the same race that they did. We climb the same hill, if you will. And one day we're going to be with them, and that's our hope. Our story will potentially be told alongside of theirs.

And so there's this camaraderie that we're meant to fill because their stories are here for us to read that we should feel with them, isn't there? We're told here that seeing that we have such a cloud of witnesses, those witnesses should enable, inspire you and I to lay aside every weight and the sin that so readily clings to us.

Now, a couple of years prior to this day on that hill in Afton, I may not have struggled quite as much as I did. I put on a few extra pounds over the course of the pandemic. I was still trying to get them off. And so I felt the weight of that, weighing me down, holding me back.

But in a spiritual sense, you and I have weight that we carry around, too, don't we, in our lives. And it can do the same thing, baggage we carry around, maybe from fears, maybe from anxieties and securities, maybe from past experiences that keep us from the confidence that we can make it. And we have an enemy whose voice we can hear taunting us in the back of our minds.

What do you think you're doing? You know you're not good enough to make it to the top. You think you're special. You think you have what it takes to finish. Come on, you're fooling yourself. You're just not strong enough. You're not lovable enough. You're not worthy enough. So why don't you just stop? Why don't you just turn around and coast back down where you started?

It'd be so easy. And so we have to do battle with our minds and the enemy's influence. But we also have our own human nature, don't we? We have the sin that so readily and so easily clings to us as we read here in the ESV. Our inability to overcome some things as quickly as we'd like, old sins that we thought we'd overcome, they show themselves up again, tempting us to question whether we can make it, question whether we truly are converted, tempting us to throw in the towel.

And Paul here is saying, you know, hey, you know, you're not the only one. You're not the only one sure you've got some challenges to face. And yeah, this is a tough slog. But you're not alone. You're not alone. You're not the first to overcome this hill. Those that followed before you, or went before you, they weren't perfect either. They had their own baggage weighing them down.

But they made it. And their examples are here for you, laid down in this book, in God's Word, to encourage you, to inspire you. You've got this. So lay that stuff aside and get up that hill. And get up that hill. Turn back a couple of chapters, if you would, to Hebrews 10. Hebrews 10. So we have a cloud of witnesses that have gone before us. Here in Hebrews 10, we read of another cloud of witnesses, in addition to the ones that went before us so long ago. A multitude of fellow-strugglers climbing the spiritual mountain, we've been called to climb with us, here, now.

A multitude who, while their names are not yet written here, they have just as much, if not more, potential to impact our ability to endure to the end as those heroes of old did. Here in Hebrews 10, verse 24. Hebrews 10.24. It says, It says, Let us, that's us, that's you and I, this is personal, consider one another, in order to stir up love and good works, not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much more as you see the day approaching.

We often read that passage in the context of gathering together for each Sabbath, as well we should, and there's an importance we're to get here of not neglecting that. That's certainly part of it.

But Paul isn't just talking about skipping church here. I think we know that. It includes that, for sure, but it's so much more. Because Paul writes here, let us consider one another. The gist is really that we need to be in a place, we need to be in a mindset that recognizes the contribution that each of us makes to the spiritual growth and the encouragement of others to recognize and embrace the impact that we have, and that our presence has on others and their spiritual well-being.

Because it's not just about us, you see. It's not about just getting ourselves fed, about us being encouraged for the week ahead. We are to show up so that we can have an impact on others. So that, as it says here, we might stir one another up to love and to good works, so that we are able to exhort one another. That word exhort is an interesting one.

It's maybe not the best translation here. It carries with it the sound, at least in my mind, of correction. But the Greek word parakaleo, translated exhort here, it carries another meaning, which gives it a little bit of a different sense. I think maybe a more accurate sense of what Paul intended. Certainly, depending on the circumstances or exhortation, correction might be involved. But this word can also be translated as comfort, and to be comforted, to encourage, and to be encouraged, to strengthen, and to be strengthened, to console, and to receive consolation.

Apply that to yourself. Now you might think, that's not who I am. That's not my gift. I'm not that stir-to-action kind of person. Don't get me wrong, I love people. I like serving them. But I'm just not the nurturing, comforting, encouraging, strengthening type. That's someone else's gift. That's all I can do to just fight my own struggles and to keep myself going.

But here's the thing, those things, stirring others up. That doesn't just involve direct engagement, direct actions or words. It can be. It can be direct. You know, that other cyclist on the hill that day didn't know he was showing up for me. But he was. But he was. He wasn't aware of the impact that he had on my success that day. And for me, in terms of what it inspired me to accomplish, it was huge. More than just allowing me not to feel guilty for having a bit of ice cream after a ride, he had a very real, a very physical, a very emotional, and even a spiritual impact.

In short, he witnessed to me. He witnessed to me just by being there, just by showing up, just by acknowledging me as a fellow struggler. And then just putting his head down and allowing me the privilege of watching him do his thing. It was powerful. It was powerful. Turn a few wood over to Romans 15.

Here's the thing. You know, it's not rocket science and it's not earth shattering, something we've never heard. We do the same thing for one another. And that's really what I want to leave you with today. It's nothing new, as I said. It's not, and I don't have seven strategies for enduring till the end. It's really just one thing. One thing. One imperative. One very critical obligation that you and I have toward one another, that God has placed us here as a body together to do for one another. And it's this, simply. Show up. Just show up. And do your thing. Recognize the impact you have on your brother. And own it. Own it. Embrace it by showing up to do this struggle. Acknowledging your brethren who are fighting their own way up the hill with you, and then committing yourself to putting your head down and continuing your slog as ugly as it might seem to you at times. But continuing up this hill, recognizing it's not just for you, it's for them. You see. It's for them. And that's really what Paul's telling us here in Romans 15. Again, reading from the ESV, verse 1, Romans 15. We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good to build him up. For Christ did not please himself, but as it is written, the reproaches of those who reproached you fell on me.

You know, it's important to break this passage down in the Greek so that we can fully understand the weight of what Paul is communicating here. Specifically, what he means when he says that we who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak. There's a really broader sense of meaning than what is implied by a simple reading of the text. And you have to get into the original language. So let's do that. Let's break it down. The Greek word here for strong is dinatos. It can be translated as able or capable. The Greek word for obligation here is ophylo. Ophylo. O-P-H-E-I-L-O. I'm not sure exactly how that's pronounced, but ophylo. Which can be translated as out. O, behoove, bebound, indebted, a moral duty. The Greek word for bear is bestazo. Which can be translated as to lift, to sustain, and to carry. The Greek word translated here in the ESV is failings, is asthanema. A-S-T-H-E-N-E-M-A. It can also be translated as infirmities. And eidonatos. Dr. Moore is going to have to forgive me. I'm getting a bad grade here on these pronunciations. The Greek word translated weak here is the opposite of dinatos, meaning unable, not capable. And so perhaps a better reading here of Romans 15, verse 1, would be, We who are able have a moral duty to sustain and to lift up those whose infirmities make them not capable, not able. It's a subtle difference, but it is a difference, isn't it? To be unable or to be incapable of handling something due to an infirmity, that doesn't necessarily point to a permanent condition, does it? Someone could be considered incapable of handling something in the moment, in the present circumstances, for any variety of reasons. They might be going through a trial, they might be coping with grief or a loss, perhaps they're struggling in their faith. That could describe any one of us at any point, couldn't it? This month it could be someone else who needs your example of faith. Next month it could be you who needs them. In Galatians 2.20, I'll just reference a few scriptures here, Paul says of himself and of us by extension that we have been crucified with Christ. It's no longer we that live, but Christ that lives within us. 1 Corinthians 6.19 tells us that we are not our own, for we were then bought with a price, therefore were to glorify God in our bodies and in our spirit, which are God's. Romans 12.1 tells us that we are to consider ourselves as living sacrifices. So this life that you and I gave at baptism, it's not ours to take back. That sacrifice we give, it's living, it's continual, and that's not something that we can put a hold on, right? We can't just say, okay, I'm off the clock, I'm not ready now, I'm not at my best, I'm sucking air here, I'm barely alive, I'm barely able to make it myself, so don't bother me until I'm ready. Okay, now I'm ready, lights, camera, action, now you can watch me. It doesn't work that way, does it? We're always on, because eyes and ears are always watching, always listening. There's people counting on you and I to get up that hill because whether you're aware of or not, whether you're engaged with them or not, seeing you fight, seeing me fight, enduring the good times and the bad, the good, the bad, and the ugly together gives them strength to endure as well and to continue their slog. So the choice isn't whether we own our witness or not, that's not the choice because we do, right? We do. Whether we want to or not, the choice is whether we recognize it and whether we embrace it and we choose to show up. That's it.

In closing, turn a few words over to Hebrews 11.

Hebrews 11. You and I, like others who have climbed this hill before us, they press toward the same vision, the same hope of reward. That vision at this fall festival that we've been here anticipating and looking forward to, the pictures for us. And here in Hebrews 11, verse 13, we read of them, Hebrews 11, verse 13, These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were assured of them, embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For those who say such things declare plainly that they seek a homeland. And surely if they had called to mind that country from which they had come out, they would have had opportunity to return. But now they desire a better, that is a heavenly country, and therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them. Those who went before us, recorded here in the pages of Scripture, they clearly saw the reward that came after that slog, after that struggle. And it kept them moving forward, enduring to the top and the end of their ride. I'm just so thankful for them, aren't you? So thankful for their examples. And I'm looking forward to getting to know them, hopefully, God willing, at the end of this thing. To let them know what the inspiration they've been to me and to so many others who followed after them. I'm also, though, thankful for those heroes that I've known personally, and ones that you can probably think of yourself, who've been among us here, who maybe finished their climb in this life, who now await the resurrection and their entrance into the kingdom of God. I know, like me, many of you look forward to telling those that you've known and loved, that have touched your lives, or maybe your children's lives, and I look forward to telling them. Thank you. Thank you for the witness of your faith, your courage, your strength, because you strengthened us all. Thank you for showing up.

And I'm thankful for all of you who've been with us today, and all of you who are showing up in your congregations today. As the end gets closer and times get darker, but you're still climbing.

You know, if you've been in that place in a battle and a trial, and you've got your head down, and you're struggling to grind out one more pedal stroke, spiritually speaking, gasping for air, and you've had a brother or sister pull up alongside of you, and they say, you know, it's a tough slog, isn't it? You've got this. How much strength does that give you?

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for showing up. You make me better, and it's people like you that make us all better. So thank you. All right, let me end this. By finishing up the story I told at the beginning, shockingly to myself, more than anybody, I did manage to make it up the push up Afton Hill a third time that day, and I'll spare you the gory details. It wasn't pretty. But as I coasted back down into Afton that day, as I mentioned, I began to think about the impact that this guy I didn't even know had on me, and all these spiritual analogies and thoughts that truthfully became the genesis for this message began to flood through my mind. And, you know, as I began to get down there, I thought, I just want to catch him, and I want to tell him thank you. I want to congratulate him for making his ten. And let him know, it was because of you that I was able to make my three. But as I pulled in, there he was, and he was in his car, and he was just pulling out a lot, and he waved at me, and off he went. And that was it. He left without any knowledge of the impact that he had on my life that day.

And I got my bike, I loaded my bike back into my truck, and I was so engrossed in the thoughts of what I just learned and what had just happened to me that you won't believe it. I forgot all about Selmas. I jumped in the truck, and I'm halfway home, and then suddenly it hit, oh! And that jingle came back into my mind again. I screamed together with me. I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream. But that version actually was replaced with another version that came to me in that moment, one which I admit is a bit cheesy, but one that in the context of the afternoon on that hill, it just carried quite a bit of meaning to me. And so it became the title of this message, and it's really a summary of the power of showing up for one another, and it's this. I endure, you endure, we all endure to the Kingdom.