10th May 2026
The Hare and the Tortoise
It's a few weeks since the London Marathon, but, having been a fan ever since the early days when, as a Girl Guide in Blackheath I would help stow runners' luggage on double-decker buses at the start and then, in days where safeguarding was - shall we say - more peremptory than it is now, be allowed to ride on these buses to the finish line, I was reminded of it when today's text for Collective Worship was the Hare and the Tortoise. One of the wonderful things about the London Marathon is the way there's space for everybody. For the incredible, record-breaking winner, Sebastian Sawe, who completed the race in under two hours for the first time. But also for Clair Roberts, who crossed the finishing line last, after 12 hours and 16 minutes. Both completed the course. Both get a medal.
At collective worship, we were thinking about things we're good at. The children were, as always, delighted to suggest the things they were good at, which ranged from cartwheels to computer games, from riding to fixing a bicycle, from drawing to coding, from spelling to maths. We thought about times we've been tempted to boast about our gifts, and about times we're tempted to think we're better than everybody else. Then we listened to the fable of the Hare and the Tortoise. You will probably remember that the Hare, thinking he can win the race easily, takes a break and falls asleep at the side of the road. While he sleeps peacefully, the plodding Tortoise overtakes him - and wins the race. It is, of course, a ridiculous scenario. A tortoise could no more beat a hare at running than Clair Roberts could beat Sebastian Sawe in a marathon. But it helped us to reflect on the virtue of humility, and on what it means to have a proper regard for others.
As we approach our APCM on Sunday, I reflect that a healthy church community needs both hares and tortoises. We need the boundless energy of the hare, the people with a vision for new things and a drive to implement them, the people impatient to put new ideas into practice. But we also need the tortoises, those who plod quietly along, covering the ground more slowly than the hares but maybe noticing things that the hares leap over in their impatience. I wonder whether I am more hare or more tortoise? I wonder how easy I find it to work with people who are different from me, to appreciate the gifts that they bring?
For this, surely, is humility - not thinking that I'm useless and everybody else is great, nor trying to hide the unique gifts that I bring to the community, but, instead, being uncompetitive, able to rejoice in the different gifts that others offer. We closed collective worship this morning with Paul's appeal to the Ephesian church in chapter 4:
"I... the prisoner of the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace." (Ephesians 4:1-3)
Good words to consider, as we look towards our life together as church in the coming year. It doesn't really matter if we zoom like the Hare or plod like the Tortoise; what's important is that we appreciate and care for one another along the way, and that we're all heading in the same direction - closer to Jesus whose love holds and invites us to follow in his footsteps.
