The Race of Faith: Surrounded by a Cloud of Witnesses - Sermon 22nd February 2026

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Good morning, everyone. Our Bible reading this morning is from Hebrews chapter

Hebrews 11:32

11, verses 32, from verse 32 to chapter 12, verse 3.

And what more shall I say? I do not have time to tell about Gideon, Barak,

Samson and Jephthah, about David and Samuel and the prophets,

who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice and gained what was promised,

who shut the mouths of lions, quenched the fury of the flames,

and escaped the edge of the sword,

whose weakness was turned to strength,

and who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies.

Women received back their dead, raised to life again.

There were others who were tortured, refusing to be released so that they might

gain an even better resurrection.

Some faced jeers and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment.

They were put to death by stoning. They were soared in two. They were killed by the sword.

They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated.

The world was not worthy of them.

They wandered in deserts and mountains, living in caves and in holes in the ground.

These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had

been promised, since God had planned something better for us,

so that only together with us would they be made perfect.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses,

let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles,

and let us run with perseverance,

the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.

For the joy set before him, he endured the cross, scorning its shame and sat

down at the right hand of the throne of God.

Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not

grow weary and lose heart. This is the word of the Lord.

So as you probably picked up from that scripture, I'd like to talk to you this

morning about the race of faith.

And there's a moment in every long race when you ask yourself this question,

Why am I doing this again?

It's probably that's the reason why often when you finish a race,

they wait a few months before they open up the registration so you have time

enough to forget why you ask that question.

For some of us, that question about why am I doing this again,

that moment may come early in the race.

For others, it comes halfway up

a hill that feels like it was designed by someone with a personal grudge.

And for a few of us, it comes somewhere around, well, this time it's my fourth

year in a row of signing up for a race called the Six Foot Track Marathon,

which runs from Katoomba out to Janolan Caves.

I've run that race the last three years, and in three weeks,

I'm going to line up again and do it again.

And every time, I am reminded that running is a strangely honest teacher.

It exposes your limits, your doubts, your strengths, and definitely your stubbornness.

It shows you who you are when the path is smooth and easygoing,

and it also shows you who you are when the path gets a bit brutal.

And that's exactly what the writer of Hebrews is doing in that passage that Leanne just read.

He's inviting us to see our lives as a life of faith, as a race.

Not a sprint, not a casual jog, but as you could see from some of those accounts,

it's a long and demanding, and may I say, a beautiful endurance race.

So, I want to talk about, firstly, 11.32-40, where we heard about the witnesses.

We only heard some of the witnesses, the ones that the writer of Hebrews didn't

have enough time to actually describe in full.

So Hebrews 11 is often called the Hall of Faith, but it's not a Hall of Fame,

in the way we usually think of it. It's not like Hollywood or the Rugby League Hall of Fame.

These people aren't perfect people by any stretch of the imagination.

They're not spiritual superheroes.

They're ordinary men and women, like us, who trusted God through extraordinary circumstances.

The writer says, And what more shall I say?

As if he's running out of breath, listing them all.

Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel, the prophets,

People who conquered kingdoms,

people who administered justice, shut the mouths of lions, quenched flames,

escaped swords, grew strong in weakness.

But then the tone shifts. It talks about others who were tortured,

mocked, flogged, imprisoned, sawn into two.

Some wandered in deserts and mountains and lived in holes in the ground. Some were destitute.

It's a reminder that the race of faith that we're on is not always run on smooth ground.

Some stretches feel like downhill fire trails. They're fast. They're exhilarating.

They're almost effortless as you descend.

Others feel like horrible climb up hills, like on the six-foot track,

the mini saddle, or what's called the treacherous pluviometer. They're steep.

They're punishing and seemingly endless.

You think you're about to get to the top, and then there's another bend,

and you see that the mountain is still ahead of you.

Yet all of them, whether it's downhill stretches or those uphill climbs.

Through all of those experiences, through that triumph and through the suffering,

all these people that we mentioned before, they described the same way.

They lived by faith.

They trusted God when the path was clear, and they trusted God when the path was done.

They kept running.

And now, in Hebrews it says, they surround us like a great cloud of witnesses.

They're not spectators judging our form, but they're encouragers cheering us on in this race.

People who've run the course and are calling out, keep going. It's worth it.

God is faithful. Now, I've mentioned about the uphill climb called the pluvium

meter on the six-foot track.

But if you ask the seasoned runners on that particular race,

they say that's when the race begins, once you get to the top.

You see at the very top of that hill, there's about 10 kilometers of undulating

up and downs in a really narrow section of the race where all around,

you can kind of lose yourself because instead of seeing the cliffs and the hills

and the valleys, you just see trees everywhere.

And you wonder if it's ever going to end, you start to doubt yourself.

But then you hear this sound, this magical sound.

That sound, that is the sound where you know you're coming towards the end of

that stretch because there are people who've run before on that race saying,

you're getting towards what's called the deviation.

It's not quite the end of the race, but getting out of that section.

And that's when there is that real, I guess, sense of mental torture that you're

going through and you hear that sound and you say, oh, it's so good to know

that there are people cheering me on saying, you can do it.

Then the verse, then the rite of Hebrews goes on to talk about weights that slow us down.

Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.

Anyone who has run a long race knows the importance of shedding unnecessary weight.

Last year in that particular race, they said, look, we're going to have to really

dial back all the water stops.

And what that meant was that you had to carry more stuff on you just so you

had enough nutrition or enough water to get through.

But I tell you what, that extra weight, when you're climbing up those hills,

you feel it. So you need to get rid of that unnecessary weight.

But that's like in life as well. Often we are carrying things that we don't

need to, that are slowing us down, are hindering our performance.

And that's why I bought my backpack. It's quite heavy.

You see, we carry things like resentment.

We carry things like fear. We

carry guilt and we carry the pressure to perform, to impress, to control.

We carry habits that drain us and we carry sins that trip us.

The writer of Hebrews is saying this, you don't have to run like that.

Faith is not about running harder. It's about running freer.

When I run that race, there's a moment early on when you start to see the pack,

thin out down the bottom of Nelly's Glen and you settle into a rhythm.

But if you're carrying too much physically or mentally, you feel it immediately.

Every step seems harder than it needs to be.

You know, some of us are running the race of faith with burdens Jesus never asked us to carry.

Some of us are running with wounds we've never let him heal.

Some of us are running with sins we've never surrendered. But the invitation that we have is simple.

Lay it down. Let it go. Run lighter.

It talks about the perseverance we need in Hebrews 12.1. It says,

let us run with perseverance. The race marked out for us.

Perseverance isn't a glamorous term. It's not Instagrammable,

like what influencers would put on there about their perseverance.

It's not the moment you cross the finish line with your arms raised.

It's that moment at kilometre 32 when your legs are screaming,

your lungs are burning, and you're wondering why you ever thought this was a good idea.

Perseverance is choosing to take the next step when everything inside you wants to stop.

I want you to notice the phrase, it's the race marked out for us,

not the race marked out for someone else, not the race that you wish you were

running, not the race you would have even chosen. It's your race.

It's your story. It's your challenges, your calling, your pace and your path.

Some of parts of your race will feel like the open plains, like when you first

hit the Megalong Valley. Wide, easy, joyful.

And a little advert here, some of the best little wineries you'll ever find.

But some parts will feel like the river crossings, messy, uncertain, cold.

And when you're crossing the Cox's River, usually up to your shoulders.

Some parts will feel like the climb, slow, painful, taking the wind out of you and humbling.

But every part of your race is marked out by God.

Every part has purpose and every part is shaping you.

Perseverance is not about pushing through on your own strength.

It's about trusting God that He is with you on every stretch of that course.

And then we fix our eyes, this beautiful phrase of fixing our eyes on Jesus.

Here is the heart of the passage. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus,

the author and finisher of our faith.

In any long race, your focus matters. If you stare at your feet, you stumble.

If you stare at the hills ahead, you get discouraged. If you stare at the runners

around you, you might compare and lose your own rhythm.

But if you lift your eyes, if you focus on the path that is ahead,

you find your stride again.

The writer Jesus is both the pioneer, the one who ran the race first,

and the perfecter, the one who completes our faith.

He endured the cross. He scorned its shame. He sat down at the right hand of God.

He ran the hardest race imaginable, and he finished it.

And now, He runs with us.

When you feel like quitting, look to Jesus. When the path is steep, look to Jesus.

When the obstacles are overwhelming, look to Jesus.

And when you're weary and discouraged, look to Jesus. He knows the course. He knows your pain.

And He knows the joy is set before you. And He is not just your example.

He is your strength. Thank you.

There is a moment in that race I've been talking about, the six-foot track,

when you're deep into the course, the novelty of running it has worn off and

your legs are heavy and the finish line still feels impossibly far away.

That moment is where the real race happens, and the same is true in faith.

The real race is not when life is easy, it's when life is confusing.

It's when prayers seem unanswered. It's when grief lingers.

It's when temptation returns. It's when you feel unseen, unheard or undone.

That's where perseverance is forged.

That's where faith becomes real. And that's where Jesus meets you.

And that's where the cloud of witnesses leans in and whispers, don't give up.

Keep going. You're not alone.

And so we get to the joy that's set before us. Jesus endured the cross for the joy set before him.

What was that joy? That joy was you and me.

It was your redemption. It was your restoration. It was the eternal life with

him that David talked about before.

And that same joy set before us. The finish line of faith, it's not a medal or a time or a PB.

Which means personal best. It's the presence of God. It's the fullness of life.

It's the renewal of all things. It's hearing those amazing words,

well done, good and faithful servant.

That's the joy that keeps us running. So as I conclude today,

here's the invitation of Hebrews.

Throw off what weighs you down.

Run with perseverance and fix your eyes on Jesus.

Your race is not random. Your race is not pointless. Your race is not run alone.

And just like the six-foot track with its climbs, its valleys,

its breathtaking views, and its brutal stretches, the race of faith is shaping

you into someone stronger, deeper, and more Christlike.

Keep running. Keep trusting. Keep your eyes on the one who ran before you and runs besides you today.

And when you cross that finish line, whether in three weeks on the trail or

one day in eternity, may you know the joy set before you. Let's pray.

Heavenly Father, I thank You that You are so faithful.

I thank You that You are not just the example, but You are besides us,

running this race of faith that You've called each one of us to run.

I pray, Lord God, that we will find Your grace, Your comfort,

and we will endure because we know the joy that has been set before us.

Lord, I pray for each person in this congregation. and Lord,

where there are things that may be weighing us down, whether it's disappointment

or grief or fear, anxiety,

lack of belief, whatever it is, Lord,

I pray, Lord God, that we would shed those things that are holding us back and

run the race that you've put before us.

In Jesus' mighty name, amen.