The Finish Line — Hebrews 12:1-2

Introduction

When I was in eighth grade, I was on a two-mile relay team that somehow made it to the state track meet. Now, I know that sounds impressive—but trust me, it wasn’t because we were fast. We made it mostly because they needed enough teams to fill out the bracket.

The meet was held at Troy University. The stadium was packed. I was nervous—but excited. I was the anchor leg. Our first guy ran well. But the middle two runners… gave it everything they had—but we were outmatched. One of them even threw up mid-run. By the time I got the baton, we had already been lapped.

In the two-mile relay, each runner runs two laps. I started my leg just as the other teams’ anchor legs were beginning their final lap. I ran with them like it was the Olympic Games. Down the final straightaway, I was out in front—people were cheering like crazy! But as we crossed the line, everyone eventually realized: they were done… and I still had one lap to go.

And then, as I ran a lap completely by myself, everybody stood and cheered. But instead of feeling encouraged… I felt so embarrassed. And all I wanted—more than anything—was just to make it to the finish line.

That’s how following Jesus can feel sometimes, isn’t it? It seems like everyone else is running a stronger, faster, more impressive race. Meanwhile, you're just hoping you can hang on, keep believing, and make it to the finish line.

God’s Word

That’s exactly where the recipients of Hebrews found themselves. They were tired. Worn down by suffering. Some were thinking about going back to their old life. Others were ready to give up altogether. And into that weariness, the author of Hebrews writes to show them “How to Get to the Finish Line” (headline)—with their faith and joy still intact.

Run “their” race.

Hebrews 12:1 “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,”

Would it surprise you to know that many Gen Zers and millennials are converting to the Greek Orthodox tradition? Now, why do you think that is? After a generation of creating “churches that unchurched people want to attend” and tailoring the worship of God according to the flakiness of the culture, Christians are craving something more ancient, rooted, and transcendent.

Here’s what happened: In eliminating cold, rigid traditionalism, we swung the pendulum so far that we severed our ties to ancient Christian tradition. Our mantra became, “what can we come up with next” instead of, “how has the church approached a holy God for millennia?” And, in the process, we forsook our heritage—and the tether meant to hold us steady as the cultural winds blow. And, we’re recognizing again our need for the tether of Christian heritage.

Our heritage shows how to “run” it.

That’s what Hebrews is showing Christians on the verge of quitting. In chapter 11, he lays out what we call the Hall of Faith: Noah, Abraham, Moses, David, Daniel, and others.

Then in chapter 12, he gets to the point: imagine a coliseum. You’re supposed to run the race of your life, but you're tired and nervous. Then you look up and see so many witnesses, they look like a “great cloud.” Suddenly, you realize every one of them is YOUR family. They’ve all run this same race before you. They’ve made it to the finish line.

Your heritage is rich. There’s Noah. He built a boat when no one had ever seen rain. Everyone else partied while he worked. But he made it. There’s Moses—rejected, exiled, doubted. But he made it. There’s David—sinned grievously, grieved deeply. But he made it.

And, here’s the point: Their race and your race is the same race. You’re just running a different leg. And, if they made it — with all their issues and all their sin and all their suffering — you’ll make it, too. They’ve shown you that. They’ve shown you how to run it — by faith.

That’s why we structure our services the way we do here: starting with an old call to worship, praying old Psalms, singing old songs, and hearing an ancient text explained. We aren’t trying to be dull or unimaginative, but to give your anxious heart the grounding it needs in the transcendence of God. We’re aiming to reconnect you to the tether or your Christian heritage.

Our heritage shows that it’s “worth” it.

There’s no tradition richer than the Christian tradition, and one of our goals each week is to help remind you of the identity, security, and responsibility that come with it. That’s why we sing old songs—like “There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood.”

William Cowper, who wrote that hymn, lived in the 1700s and knew deep suffering. His mother died when he was six, and he was sent to boarding school. There, he was bullied so viciously by an older student that he later wrote he knew the boy better by the buckles of his shoes than his face—because Cowper always walked with his head down. As an adult, he struggled with depression, attempted suicide, and spent time in and out of institutions. While in an asylum, overwhelmed with guilt and brokenness, he wrote his famous hymn as a comfort to his soul and hope for his sin.

Generations later, a young man in Scotland developed sores on his tongue. The diagnosis: tongue cancer. Surgery would take his tongue—he’d never speak again. Just before going under anesthesia, the doctor gave him a chance to speak his last words. And in his brokenness, he let William Cowper speak for him. He sang in the operating room:

There is a fountain filled with blood Drawn from Immanuel's veins; And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, Lose all their guilty stains: Lose all their guilty stains, Lose all their guilty stains; And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, Lose all their guilty stains.

When this poor lisping, stamm'ring tongue Lies silent in the grave, Then in a nobler, sweeter song I'll sing Thy pow'r to save: I'll sing Thy pow'r to save, I'll sing Thy pow'r to save; Then in a nobler, sweeter song I'll sing Thy pow'r to save.

When he finished, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. In fact, the young man wouldn’t wake up from his surgery. He closed his eyes on earth singing, only to open them in heaven still singing. Brothers and sisters, you need that heritage. You need that tradition. You need their words when you don’t have words to speak. Because you’re running their race. It’s a different leg, but you need them to remind you that though it’s hard, God is with you, and it’ll all be worth it.

Run “your” race.

Hebrews 12:1 “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,”

Once you're grounded in the rich heritage of your Christian family, the author of Hebrews steps down from the stands, joins you on the track, and says, “Let us also… run with endurance.” In other words, you’re not running a new race—you’re running their race. But now, it’s your turn. The “also” in verse 1 is significant. You’ve inherited a legacy of faith—and with it, a responsibility. Jesus hasn’t called any of His followers to a passive life. This heritage compels you to take up the baton for your generation. You must run your leg of their race—with endurance, with faith, and without excuse.

Pack “light.”

There are three specific responsibilities that you have as you run your race. The first is that you need to pack light. Hebrews 12 says to “lay aside every weight.” “Weight” is a general term that refers to anything you might want to bring with you during the race. It doesn’t necessarily mean something bad. It can be something good. Here’s what we’re tempted to do: When we begin to follow Jesus, we’re tempted to try to bring as much of our old life with us as we can get away with. We want to follow Jesus, but we want to bring our old dreams with us, our old view of sex with us, our old way of doing business with us. We want Jesus to change our eternal life, but we’d prefer him leave our current life largely alone. But, here’s the thing about following Jesus: You have to enter through a narrow gate. And, it’s a gate to narrow for your old baggage to fit. You have to lay your dreams and your relationships and your business and your family on the cross. “If a person will not forsake all that he has, He cannot be my disciple,” Jesus says.

Christians aren’t hoarders. We’re runners. We aren’t trying to collect as many possessions, accomplishments, and experiences as we can. We’re trying to run, and you have to right light! We’re just trying to get to the finish line because we recognize that the finish line of this life is really the starting line of eternal life. How many of us want as much of Jesus as we can have while keeping as much of our life as we can? “Let us also lay aside every weight!”

And, as we run, we need to have the maturity to..

Expect “obstacles.”

We’re not only called to lay aside the weights we carry—but also to be alert to the sin which clings so closely. That phrase literally means “easily ensnares.” Sin isn’t just wrong; it’s relentless. It waits around every corner. If you’re not watchful, it will trap you before you even realize it.

That’s not just unfortunate—it’s expected. Hebrews is warning us: sin always behaves this way. So don’t be surprised—be ready. I learned this the hard way when I was about 14. I used to fish across the road on my neighbor’s land. One day, my dad told me the real action was in the creek by the tree line. So my cousin and I set out to find it. But we picked the wrong tree line. The moment I stepped in, I sank chest-deep into mud—a suction vortex pulling me under. I clawed and scratched and finally got out—missing one shoe, never to be seen again.

That’s what sin does. It promises more. It looks like a better spot. But one wrong step and you’re stuck. Trapped. Even if you get out, you’re covered in filth, missing something you can’t get back, and shaken.

So Hebrews 12 says: Expect that. Expect sin to cling closely. Expect it to try to take you under. Don’t be caught off guard. Where is sin luring you away from the race? Whatever it is—lay it aside. It’s not worth the cost.

And, finally, if you’re going to make it, you’ll have to…

Stay “rested.”

That’s the final responsibility here. Hebrews says we must “run with endurance the race set before us.” The key word is endurance. That means you’re going to get tired. You’ll suffer. You’ll want to quit. But here’s the Good News: you’re not running a random course—this race has been set before you by God Himself.

So how do you endure? Not by digging deeper into yourself. That’s not Christian. That’s exhausting. If you rely on your own strength, you’ll burn out. No—your endurance comes from knowing who set the course. The same God who marked out your race also walks it with you. And the way He strengthens you isn’t by demanding you find more inner strength and resolve, but by offering more rest in himself. Jesus says, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” You see, you endure not by striving harder, but by resting deeper—again and again—in the grace and wisdom of the One who planned your path and promises to carry you through it.

It’s not the strongest who finish. It’s the ones who know where to rest. But, that goes against human nature. We want to think we’re strong enough, but eventually the race will prove to all of us that we aren’t strong enough to endure. In the 2020 Tokyo Olympics (held in 2021), Simone Biles—the most decorated gymnast in history—shocked the world by withdrawing from multiple events. Physically, she was still capable. But mentally and emotionally, she was done. In a press conference, she said, “I felt like I was doing it for other people... I just felt like it would be better if I didn’t do the gymnastics.”

Think about that: Even the most elite athlete in the world couldn’t keep performing and enduring under her own strength. Even she wasn’t enough to meet all of the expectations around her. That’s a picture of how many of us feel with our faith. We keep digging deep and pressing on because we want to be good enough, we want to measure up, and we want to meet expectations. We want to be sure that we can add “spiritual” to our personal resumé. And, it’s killing us. Lean in right here: Those who endure in the faith, those who make it to the finish line, aren't the inwardly strong. Those who endure to the finish line are those who are well rested in Christ. Man, you won’t make it if your faith is aimed at keeping others happy or if you measure it by your spiritual achievements. You’ll only make it if you’re abiding, resting, communing with Jesus. Are you resting in him?

Will you…

Run “his” race.

Hebrews 12:2 “looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Hebrews 1:3 “He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high,”

Last week, a brother in Christ texted me and asked a simple question: “How do I know I will finish the race? How do I know that I won’t fall away or quit?” Well, that’s the exact question that Hebrews is answering in verse 2. And, the answer is clear and simple: Because Jesus has already run the race and won for you! You see, we’re tempted to look at all of the weights we have to cast off and all of the obstacles trying to ensnare us and all of those people who are judging us. And, if that’s where your eyes are, you’ll waver, and you’ll fail to enjoy the fulness of Christian joy. No, we don’t look within us, and we don’t look around us; we look beyond us! “Looking to Jesus” is how we run the race to the finish! “Looking to Jesus” has been the main theme of the whole Big Story because “looking to Jesus” is the theme of the whole Bible. The word “looking” means to decisively refuse to look anywhere else. You aren’t ignorant of what’s out there. You aren’t naïve. You’re decisive. You’ve decided with your life that you’re looking at Jesus!

And, this is the main idea of both the Book of Hebrews and the Big Story. You see, Hebrews 4 says that Jesus is the one who now provides us our Sabbath rest. Sabbath isn’t just a day we enjoy; it’s a Person we know. And, how did He provide us with rest? That’s the message of Hebrews. That’s the message of the Big Story. Hebrews 7 says that He’s the Priest-King from the line of Melchizedek who has come to mediate a greater covenant, which Hebrews 8 says renders the Old Covenant obsolete. Hebrews 9 says that blood of goats and bulls was insufficient to redeem us from our sins, and so “for the joy that was set before him,” for the redemption of his church and his people as his prize, Hebrews 10 says that this Priest-King entered into the Holy of Holies and laid himself on the altar as the sacrifice. He was then raised as the “perfecter of faith” through the resurrection, and seated at the right hand of God so that “his enemies became his footstool.” That’s the language Jeremiah used to describe the New Covenant in Jeremiah 31, and that’s what Jesus accomplished in his victory.

So, if the question of Hebrews is, “How will we make it to the finish line?” The author answers it in the third verse of the book, and he creates a thread that we pick up everywhere we look. And, it’s this verse that is being picked up at the end of Hebrews 12:2. It says, “After making purification for sins, HE SAT DOWN at the right hand of the Majesty on High.” He ran the race. He conquered your sin. He overthrew your shame. He secured your place in the Kingdom. He prepared a house for you. He sent his Spirit to sustain you. Then, “HE SAT DOWN” on his sovereign throne to see you all the way to the finish line and into the winner’s circle.

In 1971, Bill Broadhurst had a brain aneurism, and the doctors were barely able to save his life. The surgery that saved his life left him completely paralyzed on the left side of his body. For ten years, he agonized through grueling hours of therapy to be able to walk again, and once he was able to walk, he began to jog. And, in July of 1981, he lined up with 1200 other runners to run the Pepsi Challenge, a 10,000 meter run in Omaha, NE. The winner that day was a renowned runner by the name of Bill Rogers. He had finished the race in only 29 minutes and four seconds. Bill Broadhurst on the other hand took more than 2.5 hours to finish dead last. But, standing at the finish line when he arrived was Rogers who took his gold medal and put it on Bill Broadhurst.

And, that’s the picture of what it means to live the Christian life and “run the race with endurance that is set before you.” You’ll be tattered and torn. You may feel like you’ll never make the finish line. It may seem obvious that the deck is stacked against you. But, when you get there, you’ll receive the winner’s prize. Because Jesus ran your race as his race so that your victory is assured.