Notice how Hebrews 12:1 opens: “Therefore.” That little word is doing a lot of work. It’s the hinge the whole passage swings on, and you can’t really understand what follows without looking at what came before.
Back up to Hebrews 1:1–3. The writer has spent chapters building a case—God spoke through prophets, through angels, through the Law, through the Temple and its sacrifices. All of it pointed forward. But none of it compares to what came through Jesus. He’s not one more messenger in a long line of messengers. He’s the Son, the exact representation of God’s being, the one who dealt with sin fully and finally (1:4–10:22). Everything before Him was a shadow. He’s the substance.
Then the writer pivots. Chapter 11 listed dramatic examples of God’s use of faith. This included references to personal examples of faith, such as Abraham (Hebrews 11:17–19), as well as some of the amazing feats which Old Testament believers were able to achieve (Hebrews 11:30–35). And yet, this discussion also included mention of the hardships faced by these faithful ones (Hebrews 11:35–38). Amazingly, God’s love for us—those who are still able to hear and respond to the gospel today—is the reason He has waited to fully deliver His ultimate victory over sin and suffering (Hebrews 11:39–40).
So when 12:1 says “therefore,” it’s gathering up all of that—the supremacy of Christ, the roll call of faith, the reality of suffering, God’s patient timing—and asking: given all this, what now? What do we do with it?
The answer is almost startlingly practical. Since we’re surrounded by this great cloud of witnesses, “let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles” and “run with perseverance the race marked out for us” (v. 1). Picture a runner before a race. You don’t wear a winter coat. You don’t carry a backpack. You strip down to what’s necessary and nothing more. That’s the image. Not just sin—which obviously slows us down—but also things that aren’t sinful in themselves, just heavy. Distractions. Preoccupations. Good things that have become too much.
And where do we run this race? With our eyes fixed on Jesus, “the pioneer and perfecter of faith” (v. 2). He endured the cross, scorned its shame, “for the joy set before him.” He knows what it costs. Hebrews 2:10–11 says He was made perfect through suffering. And because He faced every temptation we face, yet without sin, He can sympathize with us completely (Hebrews 4:15).
Paul picks up this same thread in Philippians 2:8–11: Christ humbled Himself, became obedient to death, and God exalted Him because of it. Suffering wasn’t a detour from His purpose. It was the road itself. Romans 8:28 promises the same pattern for us—God works all things together for good for those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose. Not that every hardship feels good. Just that nothing is wasted.
So what does this look like on an ordinary day? Take stock of what you’re carrying. Some of it is obvious—habits you already know are sin, patterns you’ve been meaning to break. But some of it hides in plain sight. A grudge you’ve justified. A schedule so full there’s no room left for prayer. An ambition that’s quietly become more important to you than obedience. None of these announce themselves as dangerous. They just add weight, one small thing at a time, until you’re moving slower than you should be, breathing harder than you need to.
The writer of Hebrews is pointing to a crowd of ordinary people who trusted God through impossible circumstances, and to Jesus Himself, who ran the race before us and now runs alongside us. Strip off what doesn’t belong. Keep your eyes forward. Trust that the one who finished the race is the same one holding your hand through it.
By: Frank Mulder