You’re Not Alone in this Race | Heb. 12.1–3

Hebrews 12.1–3

This passage follows chapter 11’s swelling list of great heroes of the faith. It recounts fantastical stories that many of us began learning as little kids. When reading those stories as adults, we start noticing that some of the characters were deeply flawed, and some of the stories were really messy! In many ways they were ordinary humans, just like us, in and through whom God did extraordinary things. Their legacy is the common thread that connected them: faith. As they did in their faith journeys, we’re to “also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely.”

Several years ago, my husband Andy and I backpacked the Dingle Way, a long-distance trail in southwest Ireland. It winds through astonishing terrain, but because we carried (in hindsight!) more supplies than we needed in extremely heavy backpacks, some days the pain and agony of our load far overshadowed the phenomenal views and once-in-a-lifetime experiences. What relief we felt in the times when we took off the backpacks and walked without them! How much more manageable the distance, how free we were to enjoy the full experience and fellow hikers, to soak up the beauty around us.

Similarly, in life we sometimes think that the weight we’re carrying is so vital, so non-removable. What is the unnecessary weight you carry? What sin is like suffocating cling wrap to your soul? What is distracting your gaze and focus? Sometimes we’re convinced there’s just no other way, when in reality these prevent us from experiencing the fullness and freedom He offers. It’s time to drop the over-stuffed, unnecessary, misery-inducing backpack. Listen to the One beckoning all those who are weary and burdened, and He will give you rest. Ask Jesus to open your eyes, ask Him to free you from that which He has not asked you to carry and from that sin which you’ve allowed to burden and numb your walk with Him.

You can’t properly run a race with a giant backpack! Not only is it relieving to have that weight removed, it’s necessary for the faith journey set before us. We’re told to run with perseverance – carrying on in spite of difficulties and obstacles – which assumes we will indeed face those, just as the saints in chapter 11 did. Their perseverance included building an ark when there were no rain clouds in sight, leaving home not even knowing where God was leading, offering to God that which was most precious, facing threats and abuse and even death.

Jesus is very familiar with challenges like these, and He knows the faith required to endure them. He is the one who brought our faith into being, and He’s the one who perfects it. Sometimes we’ll notice Him pioneering new things in and around us as he perfects our faith. It’s most often gradual and at times imperceptible.

Hebrews 11:1 says that faith is “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Joy and a cross seem incompatible with one another. It’s important to note that the joy set before Jesus was not a joy in his present circumstances. The present time for Him held atrocious, horrific things: being deserted by those who were supposed to love him, being beaten, mocked, and even crucified! Yet His deep-rooted joy was ultimately in what lay ahead, that which wasn’t clear and obvious in those dark hours . . . the day when He would be united with God and in His presence forever. Our joy should be anchored in that same hope – a future hope – not just a hope in the circumstances of this life. So much of scripture adjusts our gaze to a more distant horizon.

There will inevitably be times of discouragement, unclarity, and perhaps even times of hostility from others as we persevere in the race set before us. In those times, we can find comfort in knowing that this difficult terrain was endured by the great cloud of witnesses and by Jesus Himself. Not only that, but He’s given us His church, modern-day saints to run with us. Some may look like obvious heroes, but most are other “ordinary” people just like us, saved by faith that is gradually being perfected by its Author.

Dear Jesus,

We thank you that we are not pioneers on this journey of faith. We follow generations who have faithfully walked before us, and you, our incarnate Christ, walked upon this soil and modelled joyful perseverance. Thank you that we are not alone. You continue to walk alongside us and lead us in this race. Show us the weight that strains and the sin that binds us ­– convict us, bring us to repentance, and rescue us. Fix our eyes on you, and let us share in your joy.
Amen.