How a running club reminds me of the church

The Fleet Feet Sports store in Lawrenceville hosts a Tuesday night running club. Every week both running enthusiasts and others of us who don't want to die young show up and try our hand, or foot I should say, at a 2.5 mile course circling the downtown area. My sister and a few friends peaked my interest to join the craze last week. I must give one disclaimer: I don't enjoy running. Yes, I enjoy the way I feel AFTER running. But while I'm running I am internally fighting thoughts such as, "Why am I here?", "Why did I eat that burger for lunch?", and "What are the physical signs I'm about to drop dead?". Tonight, before our run, the employees at Fleet Feet gave a "pre-game" pep talk. This stirring speech included celebrating those present who participated in yesterday's Peachtree Road Race. A few people shared their race times with the group, then everyone applauded. Then, without hesitation, we were sent out on mission: to run. 2.5 miles and twenty-something minutes later, I made my way back to the store for a cherished commodity: cold water. People then were gathering around, talking about their run, their running shoes, shirts, etc. and sharing more running stories. One thing is clear: this group knows what its purpose is. Once we were commissioned to go out and run, I didn't see anyone set up a grill for a cookout. Nor did I see anyone sit in a circle and discuss a book, or fly kites, or anything else besides running. As I left, I thought, "this is a picture of what the church should be like." A group of people sent together on mission by God. Our one purpose is to make disciples. It would be quite a weird site if I showed up for the Tuesday night running club next week and they suddenly announced that they were going to go out and set up an art display. They would no longer be a running club. If a church does anything other than make disciples of Jesus Christ, can we still call it a church?