Consider
I want us to try something out. I’m going to say a phrase, and I want you to tell me what it makes you think of. “I’m lovin’ it.” (McDonalds) “Finger lickin’ good.” (KFC) “Eat Fresh.” (Subway) “Better Ingredients, Better Pizza.” (Papa Johns) “Eat Mor Chikin” (Chik-Fil-A).
Some saying can get into your psyche, and when you think about them, you can’t get what they represent out of your head. If I do the McDonald’s jingle a few more times, chances are you’re going to leave here, skip Sunday School, and go buy some McNuggets. And if I talk about Chik-Fil-A more, you will want to get you some chicken minis, but sorry, it’s Sunday…they’re closed.
A single thought can change your whole direction.
Now, think about this on a bigger scale. What you focus your mind on shapes your decisions, your actions, even your endurance when life gets hard. Hebrews 12:3 tells us, “Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.” What you consider—what you fix your thoughts on—can make all the difference. If a little jingle can redirect your cravings, imagine what fixing your mind on Jesus can do for your soul.
So, let’s consider Jesus.
Jesus endured unimaginable hostility.
“Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted” (Hebrews 12:3).
Take a moment to think about that verse. Don’t rush past it. Let the weight of those words sink in. Jesus endured hostility from sinners. He wasn’t just misunderstood or unfairly treated. He faced outright rejection, cruelty, and hatred from the very people He came to save. And yet, He didn’t fight back. He didn’t quit. He endured.
Have you ever stopped to think about what Jesus actually went through? He wasn’t just mocked or criticized. He was betrayed by one of His closest friends. Think about that. Imagine someone you trust completely—someone you’ve poured your life into—selling you out for a handful of coins. That’s what Jesus faced with Judas. And it didn’t stop there. The religious leaders conspired against Him, twisting His words and accusing Him of blasphemy. Pilate, the man who had the authority to release Him, washed his hands of responsibility and handed Him over to the crowd. The very crowd of people who had shouted “Hosanna!” a few days earlier now screamed, “Crucify Him!”
And then came the physical suffering. Jesus was beaten, whipped, and crowned with thorns. He was forced to carry the heavy cross to the place where He would be crucified. By the time He was nailed to that cross, His body was broken, bleeding, and trembling with pain. And yet, in the midst of all this, He didn’t open His mouth to curse His accusers. He didn’t call down angels to rescue Him, though He could have. He endured it all—every lash, every insult, every ounce of agony. Why? Because He loves you.
If we’re honest, most of us can barely handle a fraction of that kind of hostility. Someone criticizes us, and we’re quick to lash out. Someone wrongs us, and we hold onto bitterness. But Jesus didn’t just endure hostility—He carried it for us. He took the weight of it so that we could be free of it.
This wasn’t just physical pain for Jesus. It was spiritual agony. Before He went to the cross, He was sweating drops of blood because of the inner turmoil He was facing. Once He was on the cross, He cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46). Jesus experienced separation from the Father as He bore the full weight of yours and my sin. He took the punishment we deserved so that we could be reconciled to God. That’s the hostility He endured—not just from people but from the wrath of God against sin. And He did it willingly. And He did it till the end. He endured.
He didn’t endure because He had to. He endured because He wanted to. He chose to go to the cross in order to save, of all people, you.
When you think about that—when you truly consider what Jesus endured—it changes everything. Your trials don’t disappear, but they look different in light of Christ’s sacrifice. You realize that no matter how much pain you’re facing, Jesus has been there. He’s walked that road. He knows what it feels like to be abandoned, rejected, and overwhelmed by suffering. And He’s with you in the middle of it.
You see, Jesus doesn’t just invite you to look at His endurance from a distance. He invites you to draw near and find strength in Him. When you’re tempted to quit, consider Jesus. When the pain feels unbearable, consider Jesus. When you feel like no one understands what you’re going through, consider Jesus. He endured it all so that you wouldn’t grow weary or fainthearted.
But here’s the amazing part: Jesus’ endurance didn’t end with the cross. Three days later, He rose from the grave, defeating sin and death forever. His endurance wasn’t just for a moment—it was for eternity. And because of His victory, you can endure too. The same power that raised Jesus from the dead is living in you if you belong to Him. That means you’re not running this race alone. You’re running with the One who has already won it.
Jesus endured unimaginable hostility so that you can have unimaginable hope. He faced the worst this world has to offer so that you could run your race with endurance.
Fixing your eyes on Jesus gives you strength to face the impossible.
“Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2).
Imagine trying to run a race while constantly looking over your shoulder, distracted by every noise, or focused on the people in the stands instead of the finish line. It wouldn’t take long before you stumbled and fell. The writer of Hebrews knew this. That’s why the command to “look to Jesus” is so important. It’s not just a suggestion. It’s a necessity. Where you fix your eyes determines whether you endure or give up. We looked at this in more detail last week, but it bears some repeating here, because if we are to consider the suffering of Jesus, it requires us to look to Him, to fix our eyes on Him, not on our own problems. We are only to look at our sufferings in light of His.
When you focus on anything other than Jesus, you’ll grow weary and fainthearted. You’ll stumble under the weight of trying to carry it all on your own. Fixing your eyes on Jesus doesn’t make your problems disappear, but it changes how you see them.
The world tells you to look inward, to find the strength within yourself. But Jesus offers you something better. He says, “Look to Me. I’ve already walked this road. I’ve already won this race. And I’m here to carry you when you can’t take another step.” Fix your eyes on Jesus, and you’ll find the strength to face the impossible.
Jesus endured so that you can endure.
Think about what the end of Hebrews 12:3 says: “Consider him who endured… so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.” The writer doesn’t say, “Try harder” or “Figure it out on your own.” He says, “Consider Jesus.” Why? Because Jesus knows exactly what it’s like to feel the crushing weight of suffering. He endured hostility, rejection, and pain far beyond what any of us will ever face. And He endured it not just as an example but as your Savior. He endured so that you wouldn’t have to carry your burdens alone.
Jesus promised in Matthew 28:20, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
This promise is all throughout the Bible as well, God’s promise to be near to those who are suffering. He says, “I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Deut. 31:6; Heb 13:5). “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit” (Ps 34:18). “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (Ps 23:4). And then Jesus says, “I am with you always.”
He’s not watching you from a distance, hoping you’ll figure it out. He’s right there beside you, running this race with you, step by step. And when you stumble, He doesn’t scold you for being weak—He picks you up, holds you close, and gives you the strength to keep going. The same hands that were pierced for you on the cross are the hands that hold you when you feel you can’t go on.
Isaiah 40:29-31 says,
29 He gives power to the faint,
and to him who has no might he increases strength.
30 Even youths shall faint and be weary,
and young men shall fall exhausted;
31 but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint.
Jesus isn’t asking you to muster up your own endurance. He’s offering you His strength. When you feel fainthearted, when your legs are shaking and your spirit feels like it’s about to give out, remember that Jesus is with you, offering all the power and grace you need to keep going.
This has been a series about running and races, and we haven’t looked at any races at this point. There’s a powerful, inspirational thing that happened at the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona that adds weight to this point for us.
Derek Redmond was running the 400-meter race, and halfway through, he tore his hamstring. He collapsed on the track in pain. Everyone thought it was over. But Derek got back up. He started hobbling toward the finish line, determined to complete the race no matter what. Then, out of nowhere, his father ran onto the track. Security tried to stop him, but nothing was going to keep him from helping his son. He put his arm around Derek and supported him all the way to the finish line. Together, they finished the race.
This moment reminds us of what Hebrews 12:3 says. Just like Derek’s father came to his side, Jesus endured everything—betrayal, suffering, and the cross—coming alongside us. He endured so that you and I can endure. Sometimes, we think we need to be strong to keep running this race. But the truth is, it’s not your strength that will get you to the finish line—it’s His. Jesus endured the cross not just to show you how to endure but to ensure that you don’t have to endure alone. He took your sin, your shame, and your weariness on Himself so that you could run with endurance till the end.
So what does this mean for you today? It means that when you feel like you can’t take another step, you don’t have to. You can lean into Jesus and let Him carry you. It means that your struggles don’t disqualify you from the race. They’re the very reason Jesus came to run it with you and for you. And it means that no matter how hard life gets, you are never, ever alone.
The beauty of the gospel is that your strength doesn’t determine your completion. Christ’s strength does. And His strength never fails. The finish line is closer than you think, and He’ll make sure you get there.
Considering Jesus gives you hope for the finish line.
What keeps you going when the race gets hard? When your legs ache, your lungs burn, and everything in you screams, “Stop!”? The answer is simple: hope. Without hope, the finish line feels impossible. Without hope, the pain seems pointless. But with hope—real, lasting, unshakable hope—you can endure anything. Hebrews 12:3 reminds us that this hope isn’t found in our circumstances or even in our own strength. It’s found in Jesus.
The finish line isn’t just the end of your race—it’s the beginning of something far greater than you can imagine. It’s the moment when you’ll see Jesus face to face, when every pain will be redeemed, and every tear will be wiped away.
But here’s the hard part: life has a way of making us forget the finish line. The trials of today feel so heavy that we lose sight of the glory waiting for us. That’s why Hebrews 12:3 tells us to “consider him.” When you consider Jesus—when you reflect on His endurance, His suffering, and His victory—you’re reminded that this race has a purpose. You’re reminded that the pain is temporary, but the glory is eternal. You’re reminded that Jesus is alive right now, and all the pain you feel has been conquered and will ultimately be redeemed.
Jesus didn’t just endure the cross for His own joy. He endured it for yours. He looked at you—your sin, your struggles, your weariness—and said, “You’re worth it.” You are His joy. And now, as you run your race, He is your joy. He is your finish line. The promise of seeing Him, of being with Him, is what makes the race, the agony, worth it.
I love the story of Eric Liddell, who the “Chariots of Fire” movie is about. It puts all of this into perspective.
Hear some of his quotes:
“God made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure.”
“The secret of my success over the 400m is that I run the first 200m as fast as I can. Then, for the second 200m, with God's help I run faster.”
“I have no formula for winning the race. Everyone runs in her own way, or his own way. And where does the power come from, to see the race to its end? From within. Jesus said, 'Behold, the Kingdom of God is within you. If with all your hearts, you truly seek me, you shall ever surely find me.' If you commit yourself to the love of Christ, then that is how you run a straight race.”
He was the fastest man alive, but that wasn’t his heart. He won the gold medal in the Olympics, but that wasn’t his prize. He was a follower of Jesus and a missionary. Here what he says about winning the gold but about the true prize for all of us:
“It has been a wonderful experience to compete in the Olympic Games and to bring home a gold medal. But since I have been a young lad, I have had my eyes on a different prize. You see, each one of us is in a greater race than any I have run in Paris, and this race ends when God gives out the medals.”
Today, if you feel like giving up, remember, the finish line is closer than you think, and Jesus is waiting for you there. Every step, every struggle, every ounce of pain is leading you closer to Him. So don’t lose heart. Don’t let weariness steal your hope. Consider Him, and let His endurance fill you with strength and joy. The race is hard, but the reward is eternal. And Jesus—your Savior, your joy, your prize—makes it all worth it. Keep running. You’re almost there.
