Finding God in the Olympic Footrace

As the Olympic Games began in Rio de Janeiro, I felt inspired to re-watch “Chariots of Fire.” The 1981 film focuses on the athletic and religious struggles of two runners in the 1924 Games, Harold Abrahams and Eric Liddell. Both stories remain relevant, as the International Olympic Committee reels from a doping scandal and secular society continues to challenge people of faith. 

Abrahams, as depicted in the film, feels stung by the latent anti-Semitism he encounters in elite English society. Seeing his Jewishness as a social handicap, he runs competitively to gain acceptance. When the Olympian explains to his future wife that he considers athletics a weapon against being Jewish, she can’t help but laugh. “You’re not serious?” she says. He can only muster a gloomy reply: “You’re not Jewish, or you wouldn’t ask.”

“Chariots of Fire” concludes in a church—at a memorial service for Abrahams. He overcame exclusion and became the “elder statesman of British athletics.” Yet from a Jewish perspective, Abrahams’s life remains tragic. As a rabbi, I actually draw inspiration from the life of Eric Liddell, a devout Christian.

The Scottish runner’s religious identity also motivates his athletics, though in a very different way. In the film, Liddell’s father, a missionary, tells his son that “you’re the proud possessor of many gifts, and it’s your sacred duty to put them to good use.” His point is that people of faith should sanctify the world around them—not reject it. Liddell’s explanation for why he runs is the most memorable quote from the film: “I believe God made me for a purpose, but He also made me fast, and when I run I feel His pleasure. . . . To give it up would be to hold Him in contempt.”

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