The communion of saints
What it means to be connected to all of them
The cloud of witnesses is not a metaphor.
The writer of Hebrews says it after the great roll call of the faithful — Abel, Enoch, Abraham, Sarah, Moses, Rahab, Gideon, David, the prophets — and the statement is that these people are present as witnesses to the race still being run.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.
They are watching. Not in a performative, pressuring way. In the way that those who have finished the race and know it was worth it watch those who are still running — with encouragement, with the particular authority of people who have been where you are and kept going.
Polycarp is in the cloud. Perpetua is in the cloud. Hus and Tyndale and Bonhoeffer and Teresa and the four girls in choir robes from Birmingham.
They are your family. Not by blood — by faith, by the shared inheritance of the creed, the table, the prayer, the scripture, the body of Christ.
The communion of saints means you are never alone in this. You are surrounded. The cloud is dense with people who went through what you are going through and held what you are holding and gave what you are being asked to give.
They are cheering. They are witnessing. They are yours.
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.”
— Hebrews 12:1
“Therefore let us also, seeing we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, lay aside every weight and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”
You are surrounded.
Not by people who have it easy, or who are cheering you on from a position of comfort. By people who ran the same race in harder conditions, who laid aside greater weights, who faced more direct opposition — and who are now on the other side of it, watching you run.
Lay aside every weight. The specific things that are slowing you down — the sin that clings, the fear that inhibits, the comfort that seduces — they already know what those are. They had versions of them too.
Run with endurance. Not speed. Not brilliance. Not impressive performance. Endurance — the refusal to stop, the decision to keep going when stopping seems reasonable, the faithfulness that shows up tomorrow as well as today.
Looking to Jesus. Not to the cloud — to the one the cloud is looking at.
Run.