Paul refers to the Isthmian games, held every third year in the summer. There were some privileges conferred on the successful candidate, but the crown was the most highly prized since it covered its wearer with distinction in the eyes of assembled Greece.
The assembly opened with the herald’s proclamation, giving the name and fatherland of each competitor and the rules of the race. The path to be kept was marked out with white lines or posts, and he who diverged from the course, even though he arrived first at the goal, would lose the prize. The course was bounded on the one side by the River Alphaeus and on the other kept by men with drawn swords, so that divergence involved danger as well as disgrace.
The judge stands beside the goal and at his side the prize crown is suspended on a pole; the racers have thrown off all entangling weights, and every close fitting robe that might stay their progress, and with ear intent and body bent each man awaits the signal. The trumpet sounds, the race begins.
Mark the foremost on the track; his brow is knit, his face is set. He knows he is first but there is no self-confidence in his stride. He feels the eyes of Greece are upon him, he hears the cries of those who cheer him on. He forges on, sees the prize, grasps the pole, he is first!
For Paul these familiar festivities were the image and the type of a nobler race and a more glorious crown: " they which run in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize…So run, that ye may obtain" (1 Cor 9.24). His own life was the stadium of Isthmia and his one object was the crown in Christ’s hand. "This one thing I do", was Paul’s motto — is it mine? Is it yours?
