Divest
Today we’re kicking off a new series called “Run with Endurance”—and I don’t know about you, but when I hear that, it makes me tired. Running with endurance isn’t a quick sprint where you’re done in thirty seconds. No, it’s more like a marathon. A race like that requires grit, perseverance, and focus. The writer of Hebrews sets up this image perfectly, likening the Christian walk to a marathon race.
So, over the next three weeks, we’re going to unpack Hebrews 12:1-3. Today, we start with “Divest,” which is removing everything that slows us down.
Now, this imagery of running would have hit the original audience differently than it does us. The writer of Hebrews was speaking to a group of believers who were under immense pressure. They weren’t running for medals or trophies. They were running to survive—facing persecution, doubts, and the temptation to give up.
The Greek word for “weight” here[1] isn’t talking about sin specifically. It’s about anything that slows us down. It could be good things—our comforts, our routines, even our ambitions. But if they keep us from Jesus, they’re hindrances. Today, we’re going to explore what it means to strip away these weights so we can run the race set before us with endurance.
Hebrews 12:1-3
We all have a race to run.
Every one of us has a race to run, specifically laid out by God. Hebrews 12:1 doesn’t say, “Let some of us run the race.” It’s a call for all of us. Whether you feel equipped or not, you’ve been called to run. Hebrews 12:1 opens with an invitation and a challenge: “Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.” This race isn’t just about speed or skill. It’s about faithfulness, commitment, and endurance. It’s not about our comfort or ambition. It’s about living the life of faith, following Jesus wholeheartedly.
The Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 9:24-25 gives us a similar image: “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things.” Paul speaks to the need for intentionality in our lives, saying that we should pursue this calling with the same focus and discipline as an athlete. But here’s the difference: while athletes run for a perishable prize, our prize is eternal—it’s knowing Jesus more fully and becoming more like Him.
This race isn’t a “spectator sport.” F. F. Bruce notes, “The ‘race’ is the life of faith, lived with endurance, and following the example set by Jesus.”[2] Our path is unique to each of us, but the call is universal. Every believer is invited to run. Each of us has a unique set of challenges and circumstances, but all of us are invited to pursue Christ-likeness, no matter where our race takes us. As one commentary puts it, “The race that we are called to run is not undefined, but rather it is ‘the race marked out for us,’ specific to our lives, our calling, and God’s purpose” (Pillar NT Commentary, 589).
We’re called to run with endurance, the Greek word means not just patience but “active persistence in the face of difficulties.”[3] This isn’t a sprint but a marathon requiring steady, deliberate steps. God’s call isn’t simply to start the race, but to finish it faithfully, even when it’s difficult, inconvenient, or painful.
Hebrews 12 reminds us that this race has been set before us by God. He has designed every part of it—every challenge, every trial—to refine us, to deepen our dependence on Him, and to bring us into greater conformity to Christ. “Our progress in this race is not haphazard or coincidental,” notes one commentator. “It is directed toward a specific goal and overseen by God Himself.”[4]
The race is both rewarding and agonizing.
In Greek culture, a race was considered a serious, intense contest. The word used for it was ἀγών (agon), a word which also means conflict or struggle. It’s where we get our word “agony” from. It carries with it the meaning of effort, discipline, and perseverance, a struggle not only against physical limits but against the very desire to give up when things get tough. One commentator notes that “the footrace, while highly esteemed in Greek athletic games, was about the test of stamina and commitment, requiring everything of the runner to reach the finish line.”[5] Just like in the athletic contests of ancient Greece, our race of faith calls for complete dedication and self-sacrifice.
This race isn’t just a contest; it’s a conflict, one that often involves pain, loss, and sacrifice. Hebrews 12:4 reminds us of this struggle, saying, “In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood.” The race demands that we confront sin head-on, and sometimes this struggle feels like agony. It requires endurance. And the work it takes to be able to run well is agonizing as well. If you want to run with endurance, you have to train.
The Apostle Paul says, in 1 Timothy 4:8, “for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come.” We’re to train ourselves spiritually in the same way a marathon runner would train themselves physically. And that’s not easy! A few verses later in Hebrews 12:11, the author says, “For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it.”
To truly run this race, we need to see both the beauty and the challenge it represents. Though it’s agonizing, it’s even more rewarding. The prize is worth every bit of the pain, for the race brings us closer to Christ. But we also need to acknowledge the conflicts we face along the way—those moments of discouragement, temptation, and struggle. This race will stretch us, challenge us, and sometimes bring us to the end of ourselves. But it’s in those moments of weakness that we find the strength of Christ to carry us forward.
You are not alone in this race.
Hebrews 12:1 opens with the word “therefore.” Any time you see “therefore,” do you know what you should do? See what it’s there for. Well, what follows is that is says that we are “surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses.” What comes before is chapter 11, which is the Hall of Faith of the Old Testament. All the saints who have gone before, living with their eye on the prize. It’s as if the writer of Hebrews is saying, “Look, you’re not alone in this race. Noah, Abraham, Moses, Rahab—they all ran before you.” These witnesses aren’t just spectators. They’re testifying that the race can be won, and it’s worth running.
This imagery of a “cloud of witnesses” invites us to envision an arena filled with those who have run the race of faith before us, cheering us on, encouraging us to persevere. We’re not running in isolation. The saints who have come before are now witnesses to our journey. Their stories remind us that God has been faithful to His people through every trial and triumph, and He will be faithful to us as well.
These witnesses aren’t just spectators. They’re a source of encouragement and strength for us to keep going when it’s easy to give up. The word “witness” in Greek, μάρτυρες (martyres), refers to those who have lived out their faith as examples for us to follow. It’s where we get our word for martyr, someone who dies for their faith. They endured suffering, persevered through hardships, and finished their race, showing us that it’s possible to remain faithful even when the path is agonizing.
Their lives bear witness to the power of God’s sustaining grace. As we read in Romans 15:4, “For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.” These witnesses provide hope and assurance that God’s promises are true. They serve as proof that when we put our faith in God, we can persevere through whatever pain we face along the way.
And beyond this cloud of witnesses, we have the ultimate companion—Jesus Himself, who runs alongside us, empowering and guiding us. Jesus promised in Matthew 28:20, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” He is not just waiting at the finish line. He is with us every step of the way. So, how do we run well? How do we run with endurance? We need to lighten our load.
Cast aside every barrier to Christ-likeness.
Hebrews 12:1 urges us to “lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely.” This isn’t just an abstract idea. It’s a practical call to action. If we’re going to run the race of faith with endurance, we have to be intentional about identifying and casting aside the things that hold us back. Especially the sins that entangle us.
The phrase “lay aside” in Greek, carries the meaning of stripping off, like removing heavy, restrictive clothing.[6] Imagine trying to run a marathon in a suit of armor or dragging a weight behind you. It would be nearly impossible. Hebrews calls us to “strip off” these weights so that we can run freely and unhindered. And what are these weights? They’re anything that keeps us from Christ-likeness. Anything that hinders our sanctification. So, let’s get practical. We’re running a race. What do we need to do to run well? How do we cast aside these weights?
Identify your weights.
Casting aside sin starts with identifying the weights and entanglements in our lives. This requires a brutally honest look at ourselves. What are the sins that we cling to or the habits that distract us from God? It could be something obvious, like a particular addiction or a pattern of lying, but it could also be more subtle, like pride, bitterness, or resentment. Sometimes, these are “respectable” sins—things we justify or downplay. But even these subtle sins create barriers in our relationship with God. Hebrews 12 uses the phrase “sin which clings so closely” to show how easily sin can slip into our lives and wrap around us like vines, keeping us from moving forward.
Confess and Repent.
Once we identify these sins, the next step is confession and repentance. 1 John 1:9 reminds us, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” Confession isn’t just admitting we did something wrong. It’s a way of acknowledging the barriers between us and God, asking for His strength to remove them, and committing to turn away from those habits. Confession breaks the power of sin over us because it brings what’s hidden into the light. If you truly desire repentance, you will confess your sin. You won’t get rid of what you keep hidden. We are sin hoarders. Put a little sin here. Put a little sin there. I’ll come back to that sin later. Maybe they won’t notice that sin. Pretty soon we’re consumed. We must confess and repent if we want to look like Christ.
Replace sin with Christ-likeness.
Casting off sin also means replacing old habits with new, godly ones. Paul speaks to this in Colossians 3:9-10, where he says, “Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator.” As we cast off sin, we must actively pursue habits that reflect Christ’s character. If impatience is something we struggle with, for example, we can replace it with prayer for patience. (Be careful, though, because you will get what you ask for!) If pride is a stumbling block, you will cultivate humility by intentionally serving others. This isn’t a one-time fix. It’s a daily choice to let go of the old and put on the new.
Create boundaries to protect against sin.
Practical boundaries are key to keeping sin from creeping back into our lives. If we’re prone to envy, we might need to limit our time on social media. If we struggle with gossip, we need to avoid conversations that lead us into that temptation. Boundaries aren’t about restriction. They’re about freedom—freedom to run without the heavy weight of sin pulling us back.
It’s like guardrails on the side of a cliff or a fence on top of a skyscraper. Those things don’t hinder your freedom. They allow you to live more freely.
We should view this process as a daily exercise. “The command is to lay aside every weight, which must happen repeatedly in the life of a Christian. This process involves constant evaluation and re-commitment.”[7] This means we need to ask ourselves regularly, “What do I need to lay down today to follow Jesus more closely?”
Be accountable to others.
Finally, we need others to help us cast off sin. Accountability can be a powerful tool for removing sin’s hold on us. James 5:16 says, “Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.” When we invite trusted people into our struggles, we bring our burdens into the open. They can encourage us, pray with us, and gently remind us to stay on course.
When you’re training for a race, do you know what helps you stay committed more than anything? To have a running partner. Because there are going to be many times you don’t feel like discipling yourself. But having that person you know you have to meet to go run, you do it anyways. Accountability matters.
Run with freedom.
Hebrews 12 isn’t just telling us to cast aside sin as a heavy-handed command. It’s inviting us into a life of freedom—no weight, no chains, just a clear path toward Jesus. That’s the life God calls us to, but it starts with letting go of the things that hold us back. The race isn’t about perfection. It’s about progress. Each day, each step, choosing to run lighter, freer, and closer to Christ. But the ultimate freedom comes because of the price paid on the cross. We don’t run to attain the prize. We run because it has been won for us. This reminds me of John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress when Christian makes it to the cross on his way to the Celestial City. Listen to these words as we close, and think about the race you are running.
“Now I saw in my dream, that the highway up which Christian was to go, was fenced on either side with a wall, and that wall was called Salvation. Isaiah 26:1. Up this way, therefore, did burdened Christian run, but not without great difficulty, because of the load on his back.
He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat ascending; and upon that place stood a cross, and a little below, in the bottom, a sepulchre. So I saw in my dream, that just as Christian came up with the cross, his burden loosed from off his shoulders, and fell from off his back, and began to tumble, and so continued to do till it came to the mouth of the sepulchre, where it fell in, and I saw it no more.
Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said with a merry heart, “He hath given me rest by his sorrow, and life by his death.” Then he stood still a while, to look and wonder; for it was very surprising to him that the sight of the cross should thus ease him of his burden. He looked, therefore, and looked again, even till the springs that were in his head sent the waters down his cheeks. Zech. 12:10. Now as he stood looking and weeping, behold, three Shining Ones came to him, and saluted him with, “Peace be to thee.” So the first said to him, “Thy sins be forgiven thee,” Mark 2:5; the second stripped him of his rags, and clothed him with change of raiment, Zech. 3:4; the third also set a mark on his forehead, Eph. 1:13, and gave him a roll with a seal upon it, which he bid him look on as he ran, and that he should give it in at the celestial gate: so they went their way. Then Christian gave three leaps for joy, and went on singing,
“Thus far did I come laden with my sin,
Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in,
Till I came hither. What a place is this!
Must here be the beginning of my bliss?
Must here the burden fall from off my back?
Must here the strings that bound it to me crack?
Blest cross! blest sepulchre! blest rather be
The Man that there was put to shame for me!”
I saw then in my dream, that he went on…”
[1] ὄγκος (ogkos)
[2] Bruce, The Epistle to the Hebrews, 361
[3] ὑπομονή (hypomone)
[4] Christ-Centered Exposition Commentary, 204
[5] Lane, Word Biblical Commentary, p. 280
[6] ἀποτίθημι (apotithēmi)
[7] Christ-Centered Exposition Commentary, p. 207