Day 41

Cloud of witnesses

To Start

You’ve been sitting in silence for at least a minute every day for forty one straight days. Enjoy your new habit!

Pray

Yahweh, thank You for meeting me in Your Word. Thank You for revealing Yourself to me. Thank You for loving, challenging, and stretching me as I read. Don’t stop now.

Read

Read Hebrews 12:1.

As you read, consider…

• The word “therefore” is the hinge between all we’ve read and learned in Hebrews 11 and the encouragement to run the race with perseverance. Now that you’ve spent more than a month soaking in Hebrews 11, do you find yourself strengthened in perseverance? What about it makes you want to keep going?

• Why do you think the Hebrews author uses the imagery of a cloud to describe the witnesses? Outside of Scripture, what does a cloud usually symbolize? Think perhaps of cloudy weather or a cloudy future.

  What clouds do we see in Scripture? Name at least three important cloud moments. What does the cloud usually represent in the kingdom of God?

• What are the possible definitions of the word “witnesses”? What have the people listed in Hebrews 11 witnessed (seen firsthand)? What is their testimony on the witness stand?

  (The Greek word translated “witnesses” is μάρτυς or “martus.” It’s where we get our word “martyr.”)

• How is the cloud of witnesses “surrounding” us? What does that look like?

  (If you’ve read the Harry Potter books (the movie isn’t as helpful here), consider the moment with Harry in the forest before he duels Voldemort—the moment when the philosopher’s stone does its work. Is this something like a “cloud of witnesses”?)

Hebrews 12:1 (CSB)

Therefore, since we also have such a large cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us lay aside every hindrance and the sin that so easily ensnares us. Let us run with endurance the race that lies before us

Hebrews 12:1 (RSV)

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 perseverance the race that is set before us

Hebrews 12:1 (The Message)

Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit!

From JL

We said it at the start and we’ll say it again, the goal of Hebrews 11 is to inspire perseverance. All along the way, the Hebrews writer has been teaching us, “Life is hard; here’s how God’s people kept going. You can do it, too.”

How did they do it? By faith. How will you do it? By faith. By keeping your eyes locked on the unseen (very real) world.

This is our last “from JL” message, so I don’t want to waste it. I’m going to tell you a story. A story is almost never a waste. This is one of my favorites. It’s the story of the moment I fully understood the power of Hebrews 11:

My daughter London graduated from Voigt Elementary School in 2019¹. Voigt wasn’t an easy school for her. Over 60% of students lived below the poverty line. Very few students had two parents at home. Standardized testing scores were low. Behavior was out of hand. Kids threw chairs. Teachers cried in class. The superintendent of schools said the state of Texas watched schools like Voigt to determine how many prison cells to build in the future.

The other thing that made Voigt hard for London was that most students were first or second generation immigrants who spoke Spanish at home (many didn’t speak English well at all). So London was a minority, usually one of two or three white students in a class of 25.

Also, London is dyslexic. School was always going to be an uphill battle.

By the time fifth grade graduation rolled around, London was a little battle weary but also really proud of herself. Yes, she’d made good grades, but more than that, she’d been a friend. She’d created a club for the kids in her class who seemed to be struggling. (When I asked her what they did in her club, I discovered it was essentially a group therapy session over which London presided as counselor. She listened to their problems, offered a little advice and then handed out stickers.) She’d been a friend to a girl whose parents were going through a divorce. She’d negotiated classmates out of fist fights. She was a volunteer in the kindergarten art classes.

One day I stopped by London’s classroom to drop something off, and a boy with leg braces was waiting outside. He asked who I was. I said, “I’m London’s mom.” He broke into a giant smile. He said, “London’s my best friend.”

London had done what we put her there to do. She’d been light.

A week before fifth grade graduation London’s class held a meeting to vote on which one classmate would be named “Valiant Viking.” Her teacher said, This student should be someone with character, someone who helps other people, someone we all respect. Everyone wrote a name on a sheet of paper. The papers were collected, names counted, and two students emerged as finalists. London was one of the finalists.

She was very excited.

On the day of the graduation ceremony London wore a new dress. Each student had a partner. Hers was the boy in braces, but his disease had progressed and now he was in a wheelchair. I’ll never forget the two of them shaking hands after walking down the aisle.

Graduation went like graduations do, and eventually it was time to hand out the Valiant Viking award. The whole class started hopping up and down and whispering. The teacher started describing the student who’d won. The description sounded just like London. Students started pointing at her. A few of her classmates whispered loudly, “It’s London.” And then her teacher announced another student’s name.

I couldn’t see London’s face from where I was sitting, but I saw her shoulders fall.

London put on a brave face when we came up to take pictures. She acted like nothing had gone wrong at all. She said nice things about the student who’d won. But in the car on the way home I asked, “Did you think you’d won Valiant Viking”? And she nodded. Tears dripped onto her cheeks.

I sighed. Justin sighed. Eve cried. It had been a long year. A long year at our church (growth too fast, staff and friends moving away, disagreement, the pain of change). A long year in our house (it just kept falling apart). A long year for our friends (losses, addictions, mental health issues). A long year at school. A long year in all the ways. Every Gerhardt was tired.

At that moment, London wasn’t the only Gerhardt wondering if all the hard work was worth it. Had anyone even noticed how hard we were all trying to live by faith?

That’s when I had an idea.

As soon as we arrived home, before everyone was out of the truck, I ran to the porch and put on my official announcer voice: “Ladies and Gentleman, please gather at the end of the sidewalk and come when I call your name.”

Justin, Eve, and London did as they were told. This is the kind of family where announcer voices may be employed and weird rituals aren’t uncommon.

“Welcome,” I declared, “to the cloud of witnesses awards ceremony.”

London’s eyes sparkled. Justin smiled. Eve stood extra straight.

I looked up and motioned to my left then to my right:“I officially welcome all those who have lived by faith. Guests of honor today include Able, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Moses, Rahab, and other distinguished men and women. Thank you for your attendance. I’ve gathered you here today to honor three people who are living by faith.”

And then, one by one, I called them down the aisle:

Justin Gerhardt who, though not a carpenter, by faith re-sided his entire house, one rotting board at a time.

Eve Gerhardt who, by faith, loves her sister even when her sister is hard to love.

And London Gerhardt who, by faith, persevered at Voigt Elementary School, showing love to her classmates above and beyond the call of duty. Who respected her teachers, saw the overlooked, and represented Jesus with integrity and joy.

London smiled. As she walked down the sidewalk toward the house, Justin and Eve and I clapped and hollered and cheered. Then she laughed. Then she cried.

When she arrived at the porch I knighted her with an invisible sword.

I hugged her and said in her ear, “Welcome to the cloud, Valiant London.”

And then we went inside and went back to our normal lives—cooking dinner, emails, cleaning our rooms. But it wasn’t the same as it had been a few hours earlier, because we’d been freshly reminded:

What we’re doing matters.

And we’re not doing it alone.

Pray

Thank You, Yahweh, for the cloud.

Take a moment to list the people of faith who’ve empowered you to keep going. Thank God for them by name.

In the Comments

Would you like to give out an award? Nominate someone in the comments:

To the cloud of witnesses who lived by faith, I nominate______________ who, by faith, ______________________________________.

Godspeed,

JL

1. London wasn’t zoned for Voigt. Our church had decided to sponsor the school, and Justin and I wanted to lean in and really invest. So we transferred the girls; we put our treasure at Voigt so that our hearts would be there also.