Last week we looked at The Art of Resting and Running, but didn’t finish. We only looked at what it means to rest—and what it doesn’t mean. Today, it’s running!  

How do you run well when you’re physically, mentally, and spiritually weary? Do you simply crank up the will power, push through, wreck yourself, and crawl across the finish line a wounded, exhausted mess? Or is there a better way? 

The author of Hebrews presents a better alternative. You can stay strong and finish well if you rest and run at the same time. It sounds crazy, but it’s the Christian thing to do.

Chapters 3 and 4 deal with resting. Chapter 12 addresses running. Same book. Different commands, but not mutually exclusive events. The author not only says to run the race, he says to run it with endurance. That is, with a steady determination to stay put and keep going. In other words, the Christian life is a marathon, not a sprint.      

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. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. -Hebrews 12:1-3 

By running, he doesn’t mean an insanely hectic life of exhaustion that leads you to chronic panic, mental fatigue, and fits of anger. That may be running, but not the Christian race. That’s a rat race, and it only leads to burn out and bitterness. 

Running is not being “crazy busy.” It doesn’t mean chasing perfection, or trying to live up to all the hype on social media. Running is not devoting all of your time to somebody’s guilt-induced formulas or shallow measurements for success. 

It’s not feeling the opinions of others breathing down your neck, or imagining a spiritual yardstick always being held up next to your life. That’s exhausting and creates anxiety, not endurance. The problem with that kind of race is that there’s no finish line. In fact, if you look carefully, there’s no track either! The New Testament authors call us to a much more strategic race. One you can actually enjoy—and win!  

So what does it mean to really run the race? The Greek word for race in that verse is agōn, from which we get agony. It means a struggle or battle, a contest of some kind that involves a fight. It means that you’re actively engaged in the mission of Jesus. You are called to war. You’re fighting against your sin while following Jesus. You’re willing to take the next step of obedience, and the next, and the next. 

In a race, we face pain, and experience fatigue. The struggle is real. Becoming a Christian doesn’t eliminate that, but it does provide God’s peace, presence, and purpose in the mist of the agony. In other words, the finish line doesn’t move, the lanes don’t change and the goal posts never get moved in this contest. They’re constant. The prize is Christ. That’s where are eyes are focused. 

With spiritual exhaustion, everyone looses. Nobody looks at a spiritual burn-out and finds his or her faith compelling. But there’s something appealing about the constant, steady, peaceful pace of a faithful believer. 

Eugene Peterson wrote a book in 1980 that holds timeless truth for today’s exhausted Christian runner. The title says it all, “A Long Obedience in the Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society.” Peterson writes: 

One aspect of world that I have been able to identify as harmful to Christians is the assumption that anything worthwhile can be acquired at once. We assume that if something can be done at all, it can be done quickly and efficiently. Our attention spans have been conditioned by thirty-second commercials. 

Long obedience in the same direction. That’s running the race. That means we can stop panicking about what’s going on around us and stop worrying about how other people perceive us. It means we can have confidence about where we stand with God and focus on the race he’s given to us.  

That same passage in Hebrews encourages us to set aside every weight so we can run the best race. Have you ever tried to run while carrying something heavy or with weights strapped to your ankles? Weights are great for strength training. But when the actual event happens, that’s ludicrous. Cast aside the weight!

The final instructions in that passage are crucial: “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” (vs. 2).

If you want to run well, you have to fix your eyes on Jesus. Not on the crowds, not on other runners, not even on yourself. Keep your eyes on Jesus. Follow him.

Jesus ran a perfect race. He already crossed the finished line with a flawless performance. We share in his triumph. We’re united to his victory through faith. We’re just running the victory lap. But we’re putting forth maximum effort because we’re so blown away at what Christ did for us! The Gospel empowers us to run with endurance.   

Since our our identity is based on Christ’s perfection and not our performance, we can both rest and run. The pressure is off! That’s not a pass for mediocre effort. It’s fuel to run hard, knowing God is with us and for us. The race is his. We are his!       

We belong to Jesus.There’s nothing we’ve ever done that will make God love us less and there’s nothing we can ever do to make God love us more. So throw away the scorecard and just run.