Run with Endurance towards Him (Overview)

Good morning brothers and sisters. Thank you for your prayers. As we embark on our study of the book of Hebrews from the pulpit, I hope you would take a chance to read the book of Hebrews, not just once but as many times as possible. The speakers for the next 6 weeks have met together and have discussed the passages that they are covering and hopefully what you hear will be cohesive and interconnected, showing the wonders of Hebrews. Let’s open in prayer.

Hebrews can feel quite easy to read at first.
You can move through it fairly quickly.

But the more time you spend with it, the more you realise how much is packed into it.
It’s so theologically rich and deep,

And the argument holds together carefully from start to finish.

And yet, it doesn’t feel detached or academic.
the tone feels passionate and urgent.

As you read it, you keep hearing the same pattern
warning, reassurance, and then warning again.

And after a while you start to sense that the author isn’t just explaining theology.
He’s pleading with his listeners.

And the reason for that is this: àthe people Hebrews is written to are not unbelievers.
They are people who know the Scriptures deeply which is why the book is filled with repeated quotations from the Old Testament.

They know the story of Israel intimately.
They understand the weight and depth of their history.
They know the promises of God.
And most importantly, they have heard and believed the gospel.

But it is not only their knowledge that stands out.
→ Their lives speak as well.

They have confessed Christ publicly.
They have suffered for their faith.
Some have lost property.
Some have been marginalised.

→ And now… they are tired.

Not angry.
Not cynical.
Not rebellious.
Just weary.

They are still gathering.
Still listening.
Still praying.

But something inside is wearing thin.

If I’m honest, I recognise that kind of tiredness.

I saw something like this in my own life while serving in ministry.

There was a season quite a few years back where I was deeply involved in young adults’ ministry.
We were meeting.
We were planning.
We were teaching.

But over time, the fruit felt thin.
Attendance plateaued.
People came and went.
Eventually, the ministry was subsumed into something larger.

And through it all, I realised something uncomfortable about my own heart.

I hadn’t stopped serving.
I hadn’t stopped believing.

But I had slowly stopped looking to Jesus.

I had begun to tie my endurance to outcomes instead of Christ.

Hebrews understands that danger.
Because when our eyes shift from Christ to results,
even faithful service can quietly exhaust us.

And that is exactly the kind of moment Hebrews is written for.

→ Hebrews is written for people whose faith has not failed
but whose strength is running low.

If Hebrews is written for weary believers, then Hebrews central verse has to be 12:1-2 as it tells us how weary believers survive.

→ So for today’s overview we are going to dive deep into Hebrews 12:1-2

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

These verses calls us to endurance, calls us to steadfastness to keep going.

Hebrews is not mainly about how to start the Christian life.
It is about how not to quit.

→ If I had to summarise Hebrews in one sentence, it would be this:
Run to Christ and do not let go because Christ will never let you go.

And that summary tells us something important about the book.

Hebrews is not merely giving us doctrines to admire or doctrine to increase our base of knowledge.
It is aiming at our perseverance. Our steadfastness
It wants to produce a response.
It is written to keep people from quitting.

And the controlling image of this book is a race, a long, demanding race that requires endurance.

The author of Hebrews writes like someone watching people slow down near the finish line.

He sees their hesitation.
He senses their weariness.

And instead of scolding and discouraging them, he comes alongside them.

Notice the language he keeps using.

→ Again and again, he says, “Let us.”

Let us pay closer attention.
Let us hold fast.
Let us draw near.
Let us run with endurance.

He does not stand over them saying, “You must.”
He stands with them saying, “Let us.”

And he urges them to keep running.

Not because running is easy
but because stopping would be tragic.

That is why Hebrews calls the Christian life a race.
Not a moment of intensity,
but a long obedience that must be finished.

And significantly, the author does not begin by telling us what we must do.
He begins by reminding us of what is already true.

→ Notice how Hebrews begins the exhortation in chapter 12.

It begins with “therefore.”

Which means the command is grounded in something already true.

Christian endurance does not begin with effort.
It begins with reality and that reality is that:

→ We are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses.

Hebrews 11 has just named them
→ Abel, Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Moses, Rahab, and many more.

They are witnesses, testifying  that faith is possible
even when life does not resolve neatly.

They testify that obedience often looks costly and unresolved.

Hebrews 11 is not a hall of fame.

It is a catalogue of people who trusted God without seeing the outcome.

Some were delivered.
Some were not.

Some saw promises fulfilled.
Many died without receiving what was promised.

And the author tells us this deliberately.

Because Hebrews is teaching us that faith is not optimism.

Faith is trust in God’s future when the present remains unresolved.

These witnesses testify to us:

God is faithful.
God is trustworthy.
Even when obedience is costly.
Even when the ending is not visible.

So the author has lifted our eyes outward toward witnesses who prove that faith can endure without resolution.

But now he turns from the stands to the track.

Because if the witnesses show us that endurance is possible, the next question is personal:

→ What is it that keeps us from running well?

→ We are called to “Lay Aside Every Weight and Sin Which Clings So Closely”

Hebrews is remarkably honest about what threatens faith.

The danger is not usually dramatic sin, not that we shouldn’t beware of serious and dramatic sin. But the danger is of sin that is subtle, that weight us down that entangles.
Things that drain strength.
Things that quietly loosen our grip on Christ.

Hebrews helps us name at least three pressures.

→ Sin  The Quiet Entanglement of the Heart

When Hebrews speaks of “the sin that clings so closely,”
it is not primarily talking about scandal.

Hebrews actually names this sin for us.
→ In Hebrews 3:12, the author warns believers directly:

“Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God.”

The author warns about an unbelieving heart to believers.

A heart that slowly stops trusting God.

A posture of self-protection.

A subtle shift from dependence to control. From Jesus being in the driving seat to us quietly taking over.

Sin in Hebrews convinces us that managing life ourselves is wiser than trusting God to do so.

→ Secondly, Sight — The Pressure of the Visible

The original audience of Hebrews was tempted to return to what looked solid and impressive.

The temple.
The priesthood.
The rituals.

Things you could see.
Things you could touch.
Things that made faith feel concrete and socially respectable.

Hebrews keeps pressing one argument:

→ What you see is often only a shadow.

What you cannot see is the reality.

Faith weakens not because Christ is untrue,
but because He feels less tangible.

Less impressive.
Less safe.

Hebrews reminds us again and again:

What looks real now will pass away.

What is unseen, Christ, His priesthood, His kingdom, is eternal and will last forever.

→ Lastly, Shame — The Pressure of Social Cost

Following Jesus brings reproach.

Loss of status.
Misunderstanding.
Marginalisation.

Hebrews does not minimise shame.
It names it.
And it reminds us that Jesus Himself faced it.

But Hebrews says something more precise.
→ Jesus did not only endure shame
He despised it.

Shame was real.
But love, obedience, and God’s verdict were greater.

→ Now these pressures don’t only show up in dramatic moral failures.
They show up in ordinary, everyday faithfulness.

I see this most clearly in my own life as a parent.

I have two children.
And there are moments when I realise how quickly my heart shifts away from trust in God and toward trust in what is visible.

It’s easy to stop trusting the Lord’s slow, patient work in them,
and start trusting systems, comparisons, competitiveness.

To think, “They need to keep up.”
“They need to look and behave a certain way.”
“There’s a better method, a safer path, for more impressive outcome.”

And sometimes, if I’m really honest, shame creeps in.

When they make noise.
When they don’t behave the way I hope.
When I become more aware of who is watching than of who I am trusting.

In those moments, I’m not just managing behaviour.
I’m revealing where my eyes are.

 

And I want to be clear parenting itself is not the problem.

Loving our children and wanting them to behave and wanting the best for them is good.

The danger Hebrews warns about is what happens quietly in my heart

 

→ a slow shift from dependence to self-management.

Not a rejection of God,
but a quiet replacement of trust in Him with trust in myself.

And Hebrews would gently say to me:
This, too, can become a weight.

Not because children are a problem.
But because even good things can quietly loosen our grip on Christ
when we stop trusting Him and start managing everything ourselves.

→ Put these together, sin that entangles, sight that seduces, shame that intimidates
and you can see why Hebrews does not simply say, “Try harder.”

Instead, the author gives a command that matches the reality.

→ “Let Us Run with Endurance the Race That Is Set Before Us”

And it is important to notice what the command is and what it is not.

Hebrews does not say, “Run faster.”
It does not say, “Run harder.”

It says:

Run with endurance.

Endurance is continuing when the adrenaline is gone.
Endurance is obedience when motivation is low.
Endurance is faith when circumstances remain unresolved.

Hebrews understands something deeply human:

Most people do not abandon faith because they stop believing it is true.

They abandon faith because continuing feels too costly.

So Hebrews reframes what faithfulness or steadfastness looks like.

Faithfulness is not brilliance.
Faithfulness is not visible success.

→ Faithfulness is not quitting.

This is why Hebrews talks so much about drifting.

Drifting does not require effort.
Drifting happens when attention weakens.

→ Hebrews 2 says, “We must pay much closer attention… lest we drift away.”

No one wakes up one morning planning to abandon Christ.

They drift through neglect.
Through distraction.
Through unresolved disappointment.

Endurance, then is faithfulness and steadfastness over time.

→ Notice something else Hebrews says.
It speaks of “the race that is set before us.”

It means the race is not self-chosen.
You do not design the course.
You do not choose the terrain.
You do not decide how long it will be.
God sets the race.

Which means endurance often involves accepting a path you did not choose,
At a pace you would not prefer,
and in a season you would rather avoid.
Hebrews does not tell us the race will feel fair.
It tells us it must be finished.

→ And that is precisely why the warnings in Hebrews feel so strong.
Some people feel uncomfortable with these warnings
passages about falling away,
about judgment,
about terrifying consequences.
But we misunderstand the warnings if we think they are meant to terrify sincere believers into despair.
The warnings are pastoral instruments.

That means they are tools of care.
They are the language a shepherd uses when the sheep are close to danger.
They are the raised voice of love, not the cold tone of rejection.

Hebrews does not warn because God is impatient.
Hebrews warns because God is merciful.

In effect, the warnings say:
Do not drift.
Do not shrink back.
Do not loosen your grip.
→ because Christ is too precious to lose.

And lest we think endurance is just a personality trait
something strong people have and weak people lack
Hebrews reminds us of this simple truth:
the race is given, not chosen.
Which means our calling is not to redesign it
but to finish it.

→ so how do we endure or finish it? By “Looking to Jesus”

Now we come to the centre of everything Hebrews has been saying.

Everything the author has done so far
every warning,
every comparison,
every long argument about angels, Moses, priests, sacrifices, and covenants
has been moving us toward this one command:

“Looking to Jesus.”

This is not an optional instruction.
It is not a helpful tip for tired Christians.

This is the only way endurance is possible.

You do not endure by looking inward.
You do not endure by monitoring your own faith.
You do not endure by measuring how well you are running.

You endure by fixing your eyes on Christ.

And Hebrews has been teaching us how to do that from the very first verse.

Hebrews opens, not with a command, but with a declaration.

Before it says anything about us, it says something about God.

→ “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke…
but in these last days He has spoken to us by His Son.”

Hebrews begins by telling us who God is.

God is a speaking God.

He has not been silent.
He has not been distant.
He has not left His people to guess.

Hebrews affirms everything that came before.
The prophets and revelation are all true.
God genuinely spoke.

But it was partial.

→ because God has now spoken finally in His Son.

Jesus is not just a messenger.
He is the message.

Hebrews describes Him in absolute terms, come next week to hear Yong Jian elaborate further.

→ But this is where Hebrews begins to show us what it means to say that Jesus is the author or founder of our faith.

Faith does not begin with us deciding to trust God.
Faith begins because God has spoken.

Before I even trusted in Christ

He revealed himself to me

And all my trusting is simply a response to his voice

And God’s final word is not a set of instructions.
It is a person.

To hear Jesus is to hear God Himself.

That is why Hebrews immediately presses the implication:

→ “Therefore we must pay much closer attention… lest we drift away.”

Again, the danger is not loud rejection.
It is quiet neglect.

Drift is dangerous precisely because it feels harmless.

And Hebrews says something sobering:

→ If the law delivered through angels brought judgment,
how much more serious is neglecting salvation spoken by the Son Himself?

He is the Word we live or die by.

So to look to Jesus as the author of our faith means this:

→ Keep listening as if God is still speaking, because He is.

But Hebrews does not stop with what God has said.

God’s final word is not only spoken.
It is accomplished.

→ If chapters 1 and 2 tell us who Christ is,
chapters 3 through 10 tell us what Christ has done.

This is the doctrinal heart of Hebrews.

The people Hebrews was written to were tempted to go back.

→ Back to Moses.
Back to the law.
Back to the sacrificial system.
Back to what felt familiar and controllable.

Hebrews does not say those things were evil.
It says they were incomplete.

They were shadows pointing forward.

To go back to them after Christ is not maturity.
It is regression.

So Hebrews patiently, repeatedly builds its case.

→ Jesus is greater than Moses, not a servant in the house, but the Son over the house.
Jesus provides the true rest Joshua never could.
Jesus is the great High Priest who sympathises with weakness.
Jesus belongs to a better priesthood: permanent, not passing.
Jesus mediates a better covenant: internal, not external.
Jesus offers a better sacrifice: once for all, not repeated.

Over and over again, Hebrews contrasts:

→ Temporary with permanent.
External cleansing with internal cleansing.
Repetition with completion.
Shadow with reality.

The message is unmistakable:

What God has spoken in the old testatment,
He has accomplished through the Son.

→ This is why Hebrews calls Jesus the perfecter of our faith.

He does not merely begin the work.
He brings it to completion.

Christ’s sacrifice does what nothing else could do.

That is why Hebrews keeps returning to the same image:

→ “For the joy that was set before Him, He endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”

He sat down because the work was finished.

No more sacrifices.
No more priests dying and being replaced.
No more reminders of sin without removal of sin.

To return to the old system is not safer.
It is to walk away from forgiveness itself.

That is why the warnings intensify.

If Christ’s sacrifice is final,
then rejecting it is fatal.

But notice something crucial.

The warnings are never disconnected from grace.

Hebrews never says, “Try harder so God will accept you.”

→ It says,
“Hold fast, because Christ has done everything necessary.”

So to look to Jesus as the perfecter of our faith means this:

Rest your confidence entirely in what He has finished.

And now Hebrews moves from hearing to enduring.

Because knowing that God has spoken,
and knowing that Christ has finished the work,
still leaves one pressing question:

→ How do we keep going when faith becomes costly?

This is where Hebrews turns our eyes again to Jesus
not only as the One who spoke God’s word,
and not only as the One who completed God’s work,
but as the One who endured.

→ Faithful perseverance happens when believers grasp:

Who Jesus truly is: the crowned Son.
What He has accomplished: liberation from sin  through death.
What is at stake: sharing in the future kingdom God is bringing, not just comfort in the present.

Endurance is not self-generated grit.

It is sustained by knowing that Jesus
calls believers brothers and sisters,
has suffered before them and for them,
and continues to help those who are tempted.

→ Hebrews 11 reminds us that faith is not optimism.

Faith is trust in God’s future when the present is unresolved.

→ And Hebrews 12 shows us that Jesus Himself lived that way.

“For the joy that was set before Him, He endured the cross.”

The joy was not present.
It was future.

Jesus endured suffering by orienting His life toward God’s promised future.
He trusted that obedience would lead to glory.
That suffering would give way to joy.
That the Father’s purposes would be fulfilled.

This is exactly how Hebrews defines faith.

And when Hebrews tells us to endure, it is not asking us to do something Jesus has not already done.

→ Jesus also endured shame.

Crucifixion was not just painful.
It was humiliating.

It stripped dignity.
It marked a person as cursed.
It declared public disgrace.

Hebrews does not minimise this.

It says Jesus despised the shame.

He interpreted rejection through the lens of God’s approval.
He interpreted suffering through the promise of joy.

→ And now, He is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

His endurance was vindicated.
His obedience was honoured.
His suffering did not have the final word.

This is where our endurance is anchored.

The race does not end in exhaustion.
It ends in glory.

Not because we are exalted,
but because we are united to the One who is.

→ And Hebrews 13 shows us that this endurance always spills into ordinary life:

Love.
Hospitality.
Contentment.
Submission.
Praise.
Bearing reproach with Christ.

It is life shaped by a greater reality.

→ And the book ends not with a command, but with a prayer:

“May God equip you with everything good that you may do His will.”

Endurance is demanded
but endurance is also supplied.

→ So to look to Jesus who endured for joy finally means this:

See Him clearly enough that you can keep running.

When Hebrews tells us to look to Jesus,
it is telling us to centre our entire vision on Him.
Because God has spoken finally in His Son.
God has acted decisively through His Son.
And God now calls His people to endure faithfully in His Son.

Hebrews is not asking you to be impressive.
It is not asking you to be strong.
It is asking you to remain, to be steadfast.

To keep listening when you are tired.
To keep trusting when the future feels distant.
To keep running when obedience feels slow and unseen.

So Hebrews does not end by demanding more effort from weary believers.
It ends by fixing our eyes once more on Christ Himself.

→ The call is simple,
and severe,
and full of grace:
Do not let go of Christ.

Not because your grip is strong,
but because His grip on you is stronger and He is the only sure hold you have.
Not because the race is easy,
but because the finish line is real.
Not because endurance comes naturally,
but because Christ has already endured to the end.

And I’ve seen what this kind of endurance looks like up close.

I think of some of the brothers I know
men who are not performing faith,
but carrying it.

One brother spoke honestly about his struggle with anger as a father.
Another shared through tears about watching his parents decline,
knowing the end is near.

What struck me was not how strong they sounded.
It was what they chose not to do.

They did not run away.
They did not isolate themselves.
They did not let suffering drive them from Christ.

They chose to be vulnerable.
They chose to stay.
They chose to ask for prayer.

And in doing that, they were living exactly what Hebrews calls us to
not escaping suffering,
but enduring it by holding on to Christ together.

That is not weakness.
That is faith.

→ So keep running.
Not because you are strong.
Not because your faith never wavers.
But because Jesus is better.

And I want to end by singing a song
not a song about how tightly we cling to Christ,
but about how faithfully Christ holds His people fast.

The hymn is called He Will Hold Me Fast.
It was written by Ada Ruth Habershon for believers who feared they might not be strong enough to endure.
And the hope of the hymn is not confidence in our grip on Christ,
but confidence in Christ’s grip on us.

That is exactly the hope Hebrews has been holding out to us.

So as we sing, let this be our confession
not “I will try harder,”
but “I will look to Jesus”: