Co-Curricular

Are You Willing? 

There are memories from our childhood that stand out more than others. Some because they are happy and vivid – a family holiday to the snow or performing on stage for the first time. Others because of the feelings they stirred – the guilt of letting down a friend or the sadness of overfeeding a goldfish. 

Some endure because they are tied to a single word or phrase.

My father often invoked the word passion when talking about life’s choices. What sport to play? How to spend free time? What subjects to choose at school? What to do with one’s life? 

He would speak in admiration of people who lived with passion – people who were so committed to their work or calling that they were inevitably characterised by success, influence and / or importance. I would often ask myself: What do I love? What do I love doing? What am I passionate about? 

In a way, I was asking the wrong questions.

The catalyst for an evolving understanding of passion was the title of Mel Gibson’s 2004 film, The Passion of the Christ. I honestly had no idea that passion meant suffering; to endure. I had always just assumed it was a word we used to identify things that brought us joy and meaning, or that we ‘loved’ to do. This assumption, still, would not easily be shaken.

Around the same time, I read former Australian Test Cricketer Justin Langer’s biography, The Power of Passion. It reinforced the practical notion that success often requires a certain mindset of discipline, loyalty, resilience, and toughness. Unfortunately, despite being a great read, it also reinforced my shallow understanding of passion. 

Fifteen or so years later, when he took over as coach of the Australian Cricket Team – who were in the midst reputational and cultural turmoil (see ‘Sandpapergate’) – I again reflected on Langer’s story and the importance of values and honesty. His focus on mateship, respect and playing “the right way,” together with a mantra of elite honesty, set a cultural standard of accountability and selflessness that framed cricket as a vehicle for life lessons.

What I began noticing about Langer’s career as a player and coach, were themes of sacrifice and suffering. Suffering the pressure and weight of expectations, the pushback from players and staff, the sacrificing of time spent with family and friends, the ridicule, the betrayal (real or perceived). All, to an extent, voluntarily. It was the price he was willing to pay to achieve excellence.

In gaining a more honest perspective on this word passion, some of my childhood memories began taking on new light. As most kids are (and some adults, unfortunately), I was focused on me: What do I love? What do I love doing? What am I passionate about? 

The questions I would now ask are: What am I willing to sacrifice? What am I willing to suffer for?

In watching our Year 12s graduate this week, I know it is hard for a young man to answer these questions. But I think if you start small, the perspective required to answer them honestly and faithfully is gained as life’s priorities change.

Am I willing to make sure I get enough sleep? 

Am I willing to miss that party to attend the rehearsal? 

Am I willing to push through the pain of these last two reps? 

Am I willing to be criticised for my beliefs? 

Am I willing to put this person’s life before my own?

The opening scene of Gibson’s film remains the most impactful I have seen. In the Garden of Gethsemane, we witness the intensity of Jesus’ distress, fear, and anguish as He wrestles with the acceptance of His fate. He prays, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done” (Luke 22:42). 

In this moment, we learn in Jesus what our Father is willing to sacrifice, and what He is willing to suffer for. 

Us. 

If you ever wonder about meaning or purpose in your life and find yourself asking, what am I willing to sacrifice? or what am I willing to suffer for? perhaps also consider that Jesus calls us to pick up our cross and follow Him. 

Are you willing?

Adam Watson

Director of Co-Curricular

There is no love without self-sacrifice.                                 Elisabeth Elliot