Run with perseverance the race that is set before us… Looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.  

The Epistle reading is well timed – on the heels of the Commonwealth games in Birmingham. Even if you’re not a sports fan you would’ve caught a glimpse of persevering, persistent, passionate athletes.  

I remember my first race as a 3-year-old. Despite teachers trying to shoo me on, I stopped to help my friend who stumbled through the obstacle race. I looked back all the time for her. I hadn’t realised that running a race meant focus, commitment, and looking ahead to the finish line.

In the Epistle, we meet people of faith who ran the race before them. The reading concludes with these words: “therefore, since you are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses… run with perseverance the race set before you.”

So we should ask ourselves:

• What does faith look like?
• How should we run the race?

Firstly, what does faith look like?

The reading from Hebrews 11 last week had a definition of faith: “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” The Greek the word for “assurance” is actually stronger, and is also translated as “the substance of things hoped for” or “the realities of things hoped for.”

You may remember the Asian Tsunami in 2004. I was studying in Nottingham and it traumatised me. My straight-talking, agnostic supervisor realised, before I did, that I was struggling with an existential question: the goodness of God in the face of such suffering.

He told me something I’ve never forgotten. “There are no answers to suffering and evil,” he said. “You cannot ask why. But you have the same choice people have across the centuries. You can choose to have faith in God without answers, or you can walk away.” He said he walked away. He then gave me a copy of Pilgrim’s Progress, and asked me to sort myself out. I chose faith.  

I learned, then, that faith is anchoring ourselves in the “realities of things hoped for” – that someday, in Christ, all will be well. The New Testament testifies to the fact that we live not just in the physical reality of an earthly kingdom, but also in the eternal realities of God’s Kingdom. As Hebrews 11 says, people anticipated that God was providing something better in His Kingdom.

Faith is about moving constantly towards what we do not yet see – the substance of the Kingdom of God, the reality of Christ’s calling, and the assurance of a New Heaven and Earth. That is the goal we run toward.

Today we heard of Israelites passing through the Red Sea by faith, with water towering over them – water that could drown them at any moment. The walls of Jericho, encircled by the Israelites, in what must have seemed insane futility, falling after seven days. And Rahab, a foreigner, who had faith in the God of the Hebrew spies, and saved them.

As the writer of Hebrews reels off famous names of faith, he says that time fails him so he cannot tell of others. Hebrews 11 – well worth a read this afternoon – is about people of faith, some famous, others unknown and unnamed, persevering through difficulty and running the race of faith to its conclusion.

Some, through faith, triumphantly:

conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut lions’ mouths, quenched raging fire, escaped the edge of the sword, won strength out of weakness, became mighty in war; the women received their dead.

Others, through faith,

were tortured, refusing release, in order to obtain a better resurrection, mocked, flogged, chained, imprisoned, stoned to death, sawn in two, killed by the sword.

The early church was persecuted and in hiding. They wore animal skins, were tortured, wandered in deserts and mountains, hiding in caves and holes in the ground. They didn’t have “normal” lives.  

Take a minute to glance at that reading and see how seamlessly the writer moves from miraculous outcomes of faith to what seems like a litany of disasters.

When I read that list, I thought WHAT THE FLIP. In. Capital. Letters.

We absorb the culture around us: success is venerated, and depends on our efforts. Somehow, deep inside, we expect strong faith to triumph. We are uncomfortable with faith leading to suffering or martyrdom.

Yet, in much of the non-Western world, Christians don’t expect success, triumph or prosperity. They face persecution, torture or martyrdom. An Egyptian hymn proclaims: “We are a martyr church.” Sri Lanka is right now in dire political and financial collapse. Amid the lack of food, fuel, and medicine, as she weeps for the suffering, a friend said she dreams of God’s eternal perfect Kingdom.

As Christians, we are not called to be “successful.” We are called to be “people of faith.” There is a story in the book of Daniel, where King Nebuchadnezzar threatens to throw three young men into the furnace if they do not worship his golden image. They reply:

“our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and He will deliver us from your hand, O king. But if not… we do not serve your gods, nor will we worship the golden image.”

That’s what faith is about.

So, how should we “Run the race?”

It’s a marathon, not a sprint. It needs perseverance. And it’s about finishing, not winning. Even limping is fine, or being helped over the finishing line. Maybe my 3-year-old self had the right idea.

And how do we finish the race? Lay aside every weight or sin that holds us back, like athletes do in order to run well. My mum, as an Asian, is conservative in dress and disturbed by scantily dressed athletes. I explain that they discard weight and minimise wind resistance. She wasn’t convinced. Athletes have to throw aside every weight. The author of Hebrews probably knew about the Ancient Greek Olympics, where athletes ran naked – literally laying aside every weight. (That would traumatise my mum!)

So what are the weights and sins that cling so closely and hold us back – the things we have to lay aside? Let me suggest a few.

We are weighed down by our past: by regret, “if onlys,” “should haves,” “could haves.”
We are weighted down by sins that cling so closely: bitterness, refusal to forgive, failure, anger, broken relationships.

Charles Dickens caricatures this these in Great Expectations. We meet Miss Havisham, decades after being jilted at the altar; still wearing her wedding dress, she sits surrounded by cobwebs, dust, and her rotting wedding cake. She’s trapped by the weight of her past – her bitterness destroying others.

We are weighed down by anxiety and fears about the future – “maybe,” “what if?” Today’s world creates anxiety – war with Russia, food and fuel prices, the failing NHS.

We are weighed down by present difficulties, which make us forget God’s goodness. We focus on our struggles we face.

Henry David Thoreau in his book Walden says that the mass of people “lead lives of quiet desperation.” Is it possible to have faith in the midst of our times of quiet desperation?

Two years ago, I started a gratitude diary – to daily find at least three things that brought me joy. I have written it every night. Sometimes I feel there is nothing – and my focus shifts and I find ten things I am grateful to God for. It also taught me to seek out moments of joy through the day.

In conclusion – Hebrews tells us we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses –named and unnamed. This is not about dead saints watching us. We should be encouraged by their testimony to the nature of faith. Their faith testifies to God’s reality.

Of course, the ultimate secret of running this race is to look to Jesus. He is the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. He ran the same human race on earth with his face set towards the purpose he was living for – the Kingdom and glory of God. His goal is our goal too.

Remember Paul’s words to Timothy – words that should be true for us. “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”