by Eddie Pipkin

Image by Tania Dimas from Pixabay

It has continued to be all-Olympics viewing all the time at my house!  What a great games it has been, so many dramatic and inspiring stories.  You see the joy in the winners’ faces, as they jump about the track or the pool or the court and drape themselves in their countries’ flags.  You see their families and friends losing their minds in the stands.  Sometimes, the camera pans to the athlete who came up short.  The silver winners, the bronze winners, and – I think a lot about this next group – the ones who finish fourth.  The fourth best person in the world in that sport!  What does it mean to be really, really, really good in the shadow of the best?  It’s a situation in which we all find ourselves from time to time.

There are gold medal winners: We’re looking at you Simone Biles!  She has set the standard in gymnastics, and she is celebrated accordingly.  For the all-around competition, we were left wondering what it must feel like to be silver winner Rebeca Andrade, the best female gymnast in the world . . . who’s not Simone Biles!  What’s it like to stand on that lower ledge of the podium, wearing that runner-up medal?  A few days later, Andrade turned the tables, outperforming Biles on the floor exercise with an otherworldly routine (the floor routine usually being Biles’ best event).  Now Andrade had the gold and Biles the silver – and that silver by Biles, which any of the competitors would have taken with joy and a profound sense of accomplishment, seemed like ‘settling’ for Simone, seemed like a letdown for those who had tuned in expecting to see a coronation.

Not that Biles experienced it that way.  Nor did Andrade downplay her own silver accomplishments.  They certainly didn’t talk about it that way in their post-competition interviews.  They were all smiles, and their sense of appreciation, respect, and support for one another as they faced off in round after round of mind-bending displays of strength and agility seemed genuine and unscripted.  They understand that they are part of a truly small coterie of athletes who are capable of performing at this level.  Game respects game.  Some days you come out on top; some days I’m just a little bit better.

As I watched event after event, I noted these sincere displays of respect and, really, joy for the success of others, from skateboarding to basketball.  While the competition clock was running, the struggle to win was intense.  Afterwards, there was a celebration of the hard work that it took to get that close to perfection.

I long to see that level of support and celebration one for another in our ministry settings.  It seems too often that we see expressions of jealousy when others succeed.  We begrudge people who are more talented than we are (and there will always be someone more talented than we are).  This can even turn ugly in the worst cases, as one team member attempts to downplay or undermine the work of another.

It is true that the nature of church life is that some people are “stars” and others are “supporting cast.”  That’s on us as leaders – if we’re not too busy being part of this problem – to help keep the mega-talented grounded in humility and the perhaps-less-wattage-but-still-valuably-performing folks feeling empowered and good about the essential nature of what they have to offer.  The humility part, of course, has to start with us as key leaders.  The cheerleading and mutual nurturing can be an integral part of everybody’s routine.

It is perhaps fair to say that the celebratory gladhanding and hugs by the Olympians are at least in part a recognition by all involved that they are on live international broadcasts.  Such exposure encourages one to be civil and display overt sportsmanship.  I think it’s real, but I also think that modern athletes are savvy media personalities who understand the value of looking high-minded and grateful.  But imagine if we consciously encouraged our teams to embrace the same sort of attitude in private and, especially, in public.  We can actively celebrate one another’s talents and successes.  We can ‘attaboy’ co-workers and volunteers in ways that boost their confidence and productivity and have the add-on effect of making observers want to be a part of our team.  Everybody wants to work with winners.  Everybody wants to be part of a community that so clearly supports and uplifts one another.

I think a lot about the people who finish in fourth place.  I try to study them in the background of the celebratory shots on the T.V. (they are always in the background – the focus is always on the medal winners).  What’s it like to be the fourth fastest person in the world?  Sometimes the story of the almost-medal-winners will make it onto the broadcast, but usually only in the context of what a disappointment they faced, having been favored to win a medal.  How sad they must be.

Yet they were the fourth fastest person in the world!

I don’t know about you, but I’ve never been the fourth best at anything in the world, and it is highly unlikely that I ever will be.

If you talk to these “fourthers,” you’ll almost always get a standard version of “I’m just so happy to be here, to be a part of this experience.  It’s a dream come true.”  I believe that sentiment is sincere, too.  I believe that they enter the race giving it all they’ve got, looking for any angle to win.  But I also believe they mean it when they say that it’s an honor to represent their country in an unparalleled world setting.  They know their value.

We can help people in our churches feel that same way.  We talk a good talk about being “one body with many members,” but we can do a lot more to live out the truth of that insight.  Somebody who is mega-talented gets plenty of accolades in the normal course of a day.  That’s just natural.  Let’s focus on habits that are less natural, celebrating all the people who are very, very good, who are very, very hard workers, who are loyal and dedicated and doing the work.  Let’s let them know who they are and why they matter.  After a while, such habits, practiced frequently, become natural.

And if we are feeling a little fourth-placey ourselves, let us do the mental hygiene to remind ourselves our lucky we are to be where we are, working with the people with whom we are working.  How grateful we are to get to do all this, to have this level of impact.  Some days we even get to take our place on the podium, all happy smiles.

How do you and your team do at telling the stories of the non-podium heroes?  Does everybody on your team (professional and volunteers) truly understand their contributions, their value, their potential?  Do you celebrate one another enthusiastically in public and in private?

Share your stories and observations in the comments section!