It finally happened. A day I knew was coming, but had not fully prepared for: our last set of training wheels was removed on Saturday. After we finished cleaning out the gutters in the morning, Milo quietly yet confidently asked if we could take his training wheels off.
I was initially hesitant; I wasn’t sure if he was ready. However, I could come up with no reason to tell him “No.” As soon as I removed those two wheels, he took off like lightning. He zipped around the parking lot with full gusto. I was wrong—he was ready; he was ready to fly.
This moment reminds me of the Greek word “gymnázō:”
γυμνάζω gymnázō—meaning to practice vigorously, or to train (figuratively)—exercise.
It is where we get our English word “gymnasium.” In relation to 1st-century Greek texts, this word revolves around the Olympic Games. It signifies preparing oneself for the moment of competition against others. In today’s world, we exercise to maintain a healthy lifestyle and reduce the risk of cardiovascular issues. In ancient times, however, the goal was notoriety and honor. People aimed to demonstrate their proficiency, striving to be the best and to be compared with the best.
Training wheels are beneficial for a while; they help prepare a young rider for the pedaling and balance they will eventually need. However, there are some drawbacks. First, they slow you down; the extra wheels are hard plastic and drag roughly across the ground. They also limit where you can ride, as they are not meant for grass or uneven surfaces. Lastly, they don’t fully prepare a rider to balance independently. They are helpful for a time but not meant for forever. This reminds me of Paul’s message to a young preacher named Timothy:
1 Timothy 4:7-10: “Have nothing to do with irreverent, silly myths. Rather train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come. The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance. For to this end, we toil and strive, because we have our hope set on the living God, who is the Savior of all people, especially of those who believe.”
Paul’s words encourage Timothy to prepare himself for what truly matters. He equates this preparation to how people would train for the Olympic Games and the advantages that training would bring. By the same logic, we can assert that spiritual training is even more beneficial because the outcome is of greater significance. We are not only training for this world, but also for the world to come. Paul emphasizes that we strive and toil because we serve a living God. We are preparing not for a future relegated to death, but for one of life and godliness.
With his training wheels, Milo was preparing for the day he would no longer need them—the day he could keep up with his brothers. I cannot imagine a world-class cyclist arriving at the Tour de France with training wheels on. We too should consider what we are preparing ourselves for. Are we content to stick to solid surfaces, always in the back, letting the world pass us by? Or will we take off our training wheels and move through this world with hope?
Hope that we serve a living God, and because we serve Him, we want to become like Him. And because we want to be like Him, we desire to remove our training wheels.