Hebrews 11:29-12:2
“Running the Race”
Laura Collins
August 15, 2004
How many of you caught at least a little of the Olympics yesterday? Any favorite moments so far?
Given this international event this week, how could I resist using today’s lectionary reading from Hebrews? “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight and sin which clings so closely and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith ...”
“Let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.” Over these next few weeks we will be treated to visions of the human body at its most magnificent. We will feast on the triumphs of speed and accuracy and grace and beauty that accompany the games. And we will hear the stories about the men and women who spent long hours in practice, overcoming great obstacles, never giving up, so that they could get to that moment of competition, where the world’s best athletes challenge each other to rise to the heights of their abilities in a moment of blazing glory.
OK. But I have to ask, am I the only one who, underneath my admiration and sheer awe towards these athletes, finds the whole spectacle a little bit odd? Think about the hours that these 11,000 athletes have put into their sports. Day after day, years on end, non-stop running and jumping and diving and flipping and swimming ... over and over and over again. Years of straining the muscles to work just a little harder, go just a little further. And then, in photo finishes that are separated by only hundredths of a second, or that are decided by the subjective leanings of a panel of judges, a winner is declared.
I have to admit that it is a lifestyle I just don’t quite get. Don’t get me wrong -- I enjoy the spectacle and admire the determination. And yet, it’s a little strange, isn’t it, to work so hard for so long to win or lose by such close fractions? Of course, the commentators remind us over and over again that it isn’t about the medals. Just to be there is the thing. They say this just before they focus their attention solely on the person most likely to win the gold.
When I step back from my amazement at the superlative achievements I have to confess that I find the whole enterprise -- dare I say it? -- just a little bit ludicrous. And yet, here it is in Scripture, held up as an example of what the life of faith should be.
“Let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.” It may be long and hard and even a little bit ludicrous, but we are called to stick with it. Let’s think about this for a moment.
First, in order to run the race, the runner must shed any excess weight. As long as you’re just standing still, a few extra pounds don’t really matter, but if you’re running a race -- and this is a marathon we’re talking about --- then every bit of extra weight is going to be noticeable by about the 4th mile.
Same in our life of faith. Those things we carry around with us as most important -- our status or reputation or career or salary range or family or home or whatever -- they don’t seem so heavy if we’re watching Jesus from the sidelines. But when we get in the race and try to follow him, suddenly all our excess baggage begins to weigh us down.
“Let us lay aside every weight,” the text says, “and sin that clings so closely.” This second phrase is apparently hard to translate into English, but the visual image, if you can picture those early Greek games in Olympia, is that of a clinging robe in which a runner’s legs could get entangled during a race. The sin we wrap ourselves in may look fine in the pre-game show, but once we begin to live a faithful life, we find that it trips us up and slows us down.
When I was living with ex-offenders, they found that they often tripped up against attitudes that had helped them survie in prison -- the tough guy act, the attitude that nothing can get to you, that you don’t care what anybody thinks -- maybe it works in the prison yard, but not so much with your boss on your new job.
Not only ex-offenders dress themselves in attitude -- we all have our defense mechanisms, our prejudices, our self-rationalizations that may have served to protect us at some point in our life, but now just trip us up when we find ourselves wanting to live out the call to love our neighbors as ourselves.
But whatever excess weight we’re carrying, whatever attitude we have clothed ourselves in, it’s really easy to ignore these things as long as we’re spectators in the game of faith. It isn’t until we put ourselves out there on the field that we get any incentive to get rid of these things. The motivation to change doesn’t come from simple observation.
Sometimes life hands us the motivation -- a sudden loss, a scary diagnosis, hitting bottom, an encounter with the deep despair of the world around us. But do we have to wait for things to get dire? What else can motivate us to get into the race?
Hebrews gives us two ideas: Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith and the great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us. Let’s take the last one first.
The great cloud of witnesses. The text itself offers a long litany of some of these faithful people. But interestly, they are not the Olympians of faithful living -- they aren’t the Martin Luther Kings or the Mother Teresas. Gideon, Samson, Barak, Jephthah, Rahab ... They aren’t the characters who jump out at us from our Sunday School memories are they? So, short of retelling each story, suffice it to say that Gideon was hesitant and timid, Barak had to be shamed into action, Jephthah is mostly known for making a rash oath, Samson had enormous physical strength, but not so much in the moral category and Rahab was a prostitute whose claim to fame was getting her family saved by helping some Israeli spies. Most of them are known for their war-time triumphs ... not exactly consistent with what we peaceniks might expect. They are morally ambiguous characters, to be sure.
Then the text goes on to mention the unnamed many who suffered or died on account of their faith. The martyrs rather than the military heros. What do all these witnesses have in common in this race of faith?
They depended on the promises of God. Not perfectly, not without fault, but ultimately, this is where they placed their hope. In God’s promise to be with them, to lead them to freedom, to deliver them from slavery and despair, to let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.
“By faith,” we read, “the people crossed the Red Sea as if on dry land, but the Egyptians, when they attempted to do the same, were drowned.” Faith looks a little ludicrous sometimes. Crossing a sea like it’s dry land -- that’s either faith or foolhardiness!
And which is it? For the slaves seeking freedom it was faith that took them to a better place. But the Egyptians were following close behind and they tried the same trick. For them, it was just foolish and they got stuck in their own arrogant disregard of facts: chariots can’t make it through the mud.
What made it faith for one group and foolishness for another? Outwardly, audacity can look the same. But one group had the intention of freedom, the other the intention of abuse. Intentions which spring from truth propel us forward in the race of faith, intentions from places of falsehood can only get us stuck.
History has given us plenty of examples of each, but we are encouraged, in this text, to surround ourselves with the cloud of witnesses to the way of faith. And we can do that, the writer says, by keeping our eyes fixed forward on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.
Think about a pioneer -- blazing the trail before us. If we need a witness to what a human being fully alive can be -- look to Jesus. If we need a witness to the miracles a life of faith can produce -- look to Jesus. If we need a witness to the peace of God that can withstand every kind of evil and still rise to new life -- look to Jesus. Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.
Or, in other translations, the author and finisher. The one who begins the race and the one who ends it. The first and last leg of the relay team.
Anybody out there ever part of a relay team? I was an 880 runner, but once I got stuck on the mile relay because some of our team was out of commission. I was not a 440 runner and I have to say, our team did not win that day. On every relay team, there are stronger and weaker members. And where do you place your strongest folks? At the beginning and the end. To get the team off to the best possible start and then to clean-up and catch-up at the end.
In our life of faith, we each have a leg to run. And when we get serious about living faithfully every day, we’ll find that there is baggage in our life that weighs us down and needs to be removed. We’ll find that the way we’ve clothed ourselves to face the world may hinder us when we’re running after a life of truth.
And we’ll discover that this is not an individual, but a team sport. A relay race where Christ has already blazed the trail and a whole cloud of witnesses have run their turn and passed the baton on to us. Then our turn will come. And our years of practice, hour after hour, day after day -- practicing the presence of the Spirit and seeking its fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control -- all that practice will be on display as we lay aside every weight and sin that clings so closely and run with perseverance the race that is set before us.
But even then, it is not all up to us. Just as Jesus blazed the trail, so finally, will he be there to grab the baton again and make up for our mistakes and finish the race and lead us home.
Thanks be to God.
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