Faith

Last week’s chapter ends very bleakly. God’s people are cowering in the caves, hiding in the dark, and the Philistines are rampaging and controlling the area that God had given to his people.

And so, verse 1: Jonathan, the son of Saul, turns to his armor bearer and says, “Let’s go look and see what those Philistines are up to.” Right from the beginning of this chapter, we see Jonathan’s not content to stay hiding in this hole. He hasn’t given up. He’s not letting the circumstances define him. He’s still looking up to see what God might have. So, let’s go take a look.

But then verse 1 ends this way:

“But he did not tell his father.”

Isn’t that interesting? Family drama. Everybody’s got it, right? He didn’t tell his father, his father who was king. Why didn’t he tell him? Reading the context of the last chapter, there are several reasons. His father has been shown over and over again to be a man led and dominated by fear. Jonathan’s probably thinking, “If I ask my dad, my dad’s going to say no because he’s always so afraid.”

But Saul’s not only dominated by fear, he’s also vain. In the last chapter, there was a victory over the Philistines. It wasn’t Saul’s—Jonathan did it. Saul had 2,000 warriors, Jonathan had 1,000, and Jonathan went and attacked a garrison of the Philistines, and God gave Jonathan and his warriors that victory. And then what happened? 1 Samuel 13:4 says,

“All Israel heard it said that Saul had defeated the garrison of the Philistines, and also that Israel had become a stench to the Philistines.”

So Saul took credit for what Jonathan had done.

It’s not hard to imagine the mindset of a young man whose father is, in one sense, a coward and, in another sense, likes to steal the glory that others earn. Jonathan’s like, “I’m going to do something, but I’m not telling Dad.”

The Hebrew word translated as “staying” literally means “sitting.” He’s just sitting. There’s a contrast here throughout this chapter between Saul and his son, Jonathan. Saul has, in so many ways, accepted his defeat. He’s not doing anything. He’s just sitting—sitting in the dark, sitting in a cave or under a tree. It says he’s staying in the outskirts of Gibeah in the pomegranate cave. Some translations say “under the pomegranate tree.” The Hebrew word there is “Rimon.” In the context, it’s probably a cave called the pomegranate cave, so that’s why the ESV translates it this way. He’s just sitting, hiding, cowering, doing nothing in the cave in the dark.

The people who were with him were about 600 men. Fear is contagious. Have you ever noticed that? Fear can be contagious. Here’s Saul with 600 men, and they’re just sitting there, going over and over in their heads how bad things are and how desperate the situation is. The one who’s supposed to lead them, Saul, is just doing nothing, just sitting still.

The people who were with him were about 600 men, including Ahijah, the son of Ahitub, Ichabod’s brother, son of Phinehas, son of Eli, the priest of the Lord in Shiloh, who was wearing an ephod.

Some interesting details in that verse. He’s got 600 warriors, but he’s also got the acting priest of Israel, the high priest. In a couple of verses, we’ll see they’ve actually got the Ark of the Covenant with them. So they’ve got the ark, the priest, the king—where are they? Hiding in a cave.

There are other interesting details in this genealogy. Ahijah, the acting high priest, is traced back to Eli, who we met at the start of 1 Samuel. Eli’s sons, Hophni and Phinehas, were not good men. Because Eli didn’t discipline his children or lead well, God removed his favor from Eli and said the priesthood would be stripped from his descendants and go to another descendant of Aaron. That did not end well for them. They went to battle, took the Ark of the Covenant as a magic talisman, and were defeated. The Ark was captured by the Philistines, and the two sons of Eli, Phinehas and Hophni, were killed. When the message came back to Eli, he fell over, broke his neck, and died (1 Samuel 4).

After Eli’s death, his daughter-in-law delivered a son and named him Ichabod, which means “the glory has departed.” That’s why Ichabod is thrown into this little genealogy. The author wants you to visualize this: the king, the disgraced priest, and 600 beaten, discouraged, broken men hiding in a cave in the dark, sitting, doing nothing. It’s a dark picture of God’s people.

3 And the people did not know that Jonathan had gone. 4 Within the passes, by which Jonathan sought to go over to the Philistine garrison, there was a rocky crag on the one side and a rocky crag on the other side. The name of the one was Bozez, and the name of the other Seneh. 5 The one crag rose on the north in front of Michmash, and the other on the south in front of Geba.

The people did not know that Jonathan had gone. Within the passes by which Jonathan sought to go over to the Philistine garrison, the verb for “go over” is the same as crossing the Red Sea or the Jordan. It’s an echo: Jonathan is once again going to trust God to cross over into promise.

There’s a rocky crag on one side and a rocky crag on the other. The name of one was Bozez, which means “slippery,” and the other was Seneh, which means “thorny.” This is not an easy walk. It’s a mountainous pass. Jonathan is coming up in a dry riverbed—a wadi. On one side, you’ve got slippery; on the other, thorny. He’s on one side, the Philistines are on the other. To cross over, he’ll have to climb down slippery, walk across the dry riverbed, and climb up thorny to see what’s there. This is a dangerous activity, and he’s brought his armor bearer along.

6 Jonathan said to the young man who carried his armor, “Come, let us go over to the garrison of these uncircumcised. It may be that the Lord will work for us, for nothing can hinder the Lord from saving by many or by few.”

Jonathan said to the young man who carried his armor, “Come, let us go over to the garrison of these uncircumcised.” That’s intentional. He doesn’t say, “Let’s go up against the Philistines.” He says, “Let’s go up against the uncircumcised,” which tells us how Jonathan is framing and understanding what’s going on.

You might be tempted to think this is an ethnic slur, but that’s not how circumcision is viewed among the people of God. It’s not a purely ethnic thing. When God, through Moses, led the people out of Egypt, it wasn’t just descendants of Abraham who went. There were people from Egypt and many other nations who came together on the mountain and received the law and the covenant. It was always a spiritual reality.

So when Jonathan says, “Let’s go see what the uncircumcised are up to,” he’s saying, “Let’s go see what God’s enemies are up to.” This is a spiritual view of reality. “We are the circumcised”—that’s the sign of the covenant. “We belong to God. We’re God’s people.” Uncircumcision is the sign of those who are not yet God’s people. He’s not just seeing them as his enemy, as Israel’s; he’s understanding them as enemies in rebellion against God.

Let’s go over to the garrison of the uncircumcised. And then what a statement he makes: “It may be that the Lord will work for us, for nothing can hinder the Lord from saving by many or by few” (1 Samuel 14:6).

What a statement of faith. Notice, it’s not a conclusive, deterministic statement of faith. It’s, “Who knows? Let’s go see.” That is, in its essence, the essence of faith. It’s not certainty. It’s not conclusive. It’s, “Who knows? Here’s what I do know: God can take care of this. God doesn’t need a big army. God can handle this with one or with a thousand. Who knows? God can handle it. Let’s go see what could happen.” That’s the posture of faith: “I don’t know. I can’t see. I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen, but I’m going to operate on what I do see and what I do know. These Philistines have nothing on God. So let’s go see.”

This is not an abstract faith in God’s power. This is Jonathan claiming the promises of God in the covenant. He’s going up against the uncircumcised. He is circumcised, a covenant member of God’s people, and he knows the promises of God. Promises like:

“If you walk in my statutes and observe my commandments and do them, then I will give you your rains in their season, and the land shall yield its increase, and the trees of the field shall yield their fruit. Your threshing shall last to the time of the grape harvest, and the grape harvest shall last to the time for sowing. And you shall eat your bread to the full and dwell in your land secure. I will give peace in the land, and you shall lie down, and none shall make you afraid. I will remove harmful beasts from the land, and the sword shall not go through your land. You shall chase your enemies, and they shall fall before you by the sword. Five of you shall chase a hundred, and a hundred of you shall chase ten thousand, and your enemies shall fall before you by the sword.”

Jonathan understands he has anything but peace in the land because of the covenant breaking, the unfaithfulness of Israel. But he is trusting still in the faithfulness of God. God says, “I’ll give peace in the land. You’ll lie down, and none shall make you afraid.” Jonathan knows the promises of God. He chooses to believe the power of God, the possibilities of what God can do if God will be trusted. “Who knows what will happen? Here’s what I know: God can take care of this if we will trust him.”

Over and over again, God has proven this to be true. Joshua meditated on this and declared:

“One man of you puts to flight a thousand, since it is the Lord your God who fights for you, just as he promised you.”

It’s not about the size of your army. It’s not about how many swords you have. If you remember, there are only two swords in the whole army—Saul’s got one, Jonathan’s got one. Israel’s in a really bad place because of the decisions and choices they’ve made. But God is still faithful. Jonathan is a model of faith, a stark contrast. Saul, the anointed king, is huddling in fear in a cave. Jonathan’s like, “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know God is able.” So he acts.

This is a constant theme throughout scripture. God does not need large armies. God doesn’t need the power of man to accomplish his purposes. “Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord of hosts” (Zechariah 4:6).

We just came out of Judges. Remember Gideon? Gideon blows the horn, a massive army forms, and God says, “That’s too many.” Not because there weren’t enough, but because there were too many. God didn’t want them to take credit for the victory. So God whittles it down and whittles it down until, with a very small force, God defeats the enemies—not just of Israel, but the enemies of God. Because it’s not by might, not by power, but by the Spirit of God. It just takes one who is trusting in Yahweh. It just takes one who will walk in faith, and God moves.

Keep Gideon in mind here. I’ll come back to him in a minute.

Many of the Psalms exalt in how Yahweh fights for his people. I spent some time this week in Psalm 44, a Psalm of the sons of Korah:

“O God, we have heard with our ears, our fathers have told us, what deeds you performed in their days, in the days of old: you with your own hand drove out the nations, but them you planted; you afflicted the peoples, but them you set free; for not by their own sword did they win the land, nor did their own arm save them, but your right hand and your arm, and the light of your face, for you delighted in them.”

What a contrast to the context in Samuel, where the nation, in radical disobedience and unfaithfulness, decides, “We need a king like everybody else.” Israel asks for a king like all the other nations, asking to move forward not with God as their warrior, but with human power. They’re asking to go a different direction than what God has done. It’s never been about Israel’s strength or might. It’s always and only been about God.

Jonathan gets this. His armor bearer in verse 7—I love this—his armor bearer is never named. It’s one of my missions in the kingdom to come: I want to find the armor bearer. Because he’s a good man. Jonathan and this unnamed armor bearer. Jonathan’s like, “Let’s go do something crazy.”

And the armor bearer says, “Do all that is in your heart. Do as you wish. Behold, I am with you, heart and soul”

That’s a ride or die. “I’ve got your back. I’m with you.”

I said earlier that fear is contagious. Faith is also contagious. Faith is awesome. I think that’s what we’re witnessing here. Jonathan’s like, “Who knows? But I know what God can do.” The unknown armor bearer is like, “Cool, let’s go.” Faith is contagious. There’s a lesson here: faith is communal. It’s not just Jonathan by himself. That’s important and significant. Jonathan goes, but he goes with this unnamed armor bearer. He needs that, because it’s not good to be alone, independent, or isolated. Jonathan is acting, but not by himself. Faith is contagious and communal.

We’ve seen that in the story. Moses needed Aaron. Even Jesus—God made flesh—when he began his ministry, the first thing he did was gather a community. He didn’t do it alone; he did it in relationship. When he sent his disciples out to do ministry, he sent them out two by two (Mark 6:7; Luke 10:1). That’s not accidental or incidental; it’s intentional. We’re better together than we are by ourselves.

8 Then Jonathan said, “Behold, we will cross over to the men, and we will show ourselves to them.

Jonathan said, “Behold, we will cross over to the men, and we will show ourselves to them.” This is his plan. They’re not going to try to sneak in; it would be nearly impossible, given the geography. So they’re going to go and stand on the top of the cliff and reveal themselves to the enemy on the other side.

“If they say to us, ‘Wait until we come to you,’ then we will stand in our place and not go up to them. But if they say, ‘Come up to us,’ then we will go up, for the Lord has given them into our hand. And this shall be the sign to us”

Jonathan is acting in faith, but he’s seeking God’s blessing and leading. He comes up with this sign: “We’ll show ourselves. If they say, ‘We’re coming over to you,’ we’ll stay put. But if they say, ‘Come up to us,’ we’ll go, and that will be the sign that God is with us.”

So both of them showed themselves to the garrison of the Philistines, and the Philistines said,

11 So both of them showed themselves to the garrison of the Philistines. And the Philistines said, “Look, Hebrews are coming out of the holes where they have hidden themselves.” 12 And the men of the garrison hailed Jonathan and his armor-bearer and said, “Come up to us, and we will show you a thing.” And Jonathan said to his armor-bearer, “Come up after me, for the Lord has given them into the hand of Israel.”

“Look, the Hebrews are coming out of the holes where they have hidden themselves.” Imagine the mocking, the ridicule. “Oh, look at the little Israelites coming out of their holes.” The men of the garrison hailed Jonathan and his armor bearer and said, “Come up to us, and we’ll show you a thing.” Jonathan said to his armor bearer, “Come up after me, for the Lord has given them into the hand of Israel”.

I mentioned Gideon. Gideon sought a sign from Yahweh as well—he put out the fleece, and it wasn’t enough, so he did it again (Judges 6:36-40). What’s the difference between Gideon doing that, which is condemned as a bad thing, and Jonathan doing this? There’s a world of difference. Gideon was given explicit instructions by God. Jonathan hasn’t been given any of that. He has no instruction. God hasn’t told him. God hasn’t given him a detailed pathway. All he’s acting on is faith—what he knows about God, the covenant, faithfulness, and God’s ability to do the impossible.

Gideon says to God, “If you prove yourself to me, then I’ll move.” Jonathan says, “I’m moving, and I need you to direct me as I go.” This is the central issue in this passage: the active nature of faith. The contrast is between Saul, who’s just sitting, waiting, doing nothing, and Jonathan, who, though God hasn’t said, “Go up and do this,” acts on what he knows. “I know we’re the people of God and they’re not. I know this is a land of promise. I know if we’re faithful, God will fight for us. I know God is able to deliver us. I know it’s not about how many warriors we have. So I’m going to act.”

He doesn’t sit around waiting for God to roll out the red carpet or give a detailed explanation. He just starts moving. But it’s not, “Hey, God, I’m going to do this, you better back me up.” No. “God, I’m going. If you don’t want me to do this, I need you to stop me. If you do want me to do this, I need you to show me. So here, I’m asking for a sign.” This is not disobedience or a lack of faith. That was Gideon. Jonathan is demonstrating his faith by asking for a sign. “God, I want to serve you. I want to be used by you. I don’t want to sit and cower in a cave in fear. So, God, I need you to show me where to go, how to go, when to go. God, give me a sign.” That is his act of faith—actively seeking God’s will.

13 Then Jonathan climbed up on his hands and feet, and his armor-bearer after him. And they fell before Jonathan, and his armor-bearer killed them after him. 14 And that first strike, which Jonathan and his armor-bearer made, killed about twenty men within as it were half a furrow’s length in an acre of land.

So Jonathan climbed up on his hands and feet. That tells you about the steepness of the incline. There’s something about that: climbing down, walking across the river, climbing back up. It’s so steep, so treacherous, he has to use his hands and feet. His decision to walk forward in faith put him in greater danger, but he was trusting in God. He did what he had to do. It wasn’t easy, convenient, or comfortable. They named the cliff “Thorny” for a reason.

He’s climbing on his hands and feet, his armor bearer after him, and they fell before Jonathan, and his armor bearer killed them after him. They climb up to the top, Jonathan pulls out his sword and gets to work. He attacks, his armor bearer comes behind, cleaning up the mess.

They said, “Come on up, and we’ll show you a thing.” Jonathan’s like, “Cool, let’s go.” He climbs up, takes out his sword, and twenty of them fall like grass before him. Because it’s not by might, not by power, but by the Spirit of God.

15 And there was a panic in the camp, in the field, and among all the people. The garrison and even the raiders trembled, the earth quaked, and it became a very great panic.

Then there was a panic in the camp. He killed twenty guys. They had 30,000 chariots, thousands and thousands of horsemen, uncountable numbers of foot soldiers. He killed twenty guys. From a physical, earthly perspective, it’s nothing. But he kills twenty, and panic erupts in the camp, in the field, and among all the people. Panic begins to spread throughout the entire Philistine army. The garrison and even the raiders trembled, and then the earth trembled; it quaked, and it became a very great panic (1 Samuel 14:15).

This is one of God’s moves. He likes to shake the ground. All Jonathan does is start moving forward, say, “God, if you want me to go, give me the sign.” God gives him the sign, so he goes, takes out twenty guys, and God says, “Now watch.” The earth begins to shake, fear spreads, the army loses it. There’s a great panic—even the earth trembles before Yahweh.

16 And the watchmen of Saul in Gibeah of Benjamin looked, and behold, the multitude was dispersing here and there. 17 Then Saul said to the people who were with him, “Count and see who has gone from us.” And when they had counted, behold, Jonathan and his armor-bearer were not there.

When the earth starts to shake and you’re in a cave, you pay attention. They come out of the cave, look around, and see Philistines running around in panic. It’s chaos. Saul said to the people with him, “Let’s do a head count and see who has gone out from among us.” When they had counted, behold, Jonathan and his armor bearer were not there. Saul looks out, sees something happening, and figures out it was Jonathan and his armor bearer—the only ones not present.

18 So Saul said to Ahijah, “Bring the ark of God here.” For the ark of God went at that time with the people of Israel.

Saul said to Ahijah, the priest, “Bring the ark of God here.” The ark of God went at that time with the people of Israel. The ark—the footstool where the Shekinah glory, the very presence of God, would manifest—has been dragged by Saul and the high priest into a cave in fear. There’s something tragic about that imagery.

Saul’s faith is reactive, not proactive. It’s religious, but not reliant. This comes after the fact. “Oh, something’s happening, I guess we better ask God.” Why were they not asking God before? Why was it only Jonathan and his armor bearer who decided to trust God? Why did it take an earthquake to get Saul to do something?

19 Now while Saul was talking to the priest, the tumult in the camp of the Philistines increased more and more. So Saul said to the priest, “Withdraw your hand.”

Once again, Saul, in the midst of chaos, chooses not to do the right thing and not to trust God. The high priest is there, wearing the ephod, which contains the Urim and Thummim—some sort of divination tool for seeking God’s will. Saul says, “Bring out the ark,” calls the high priest, who would be asking God for revelation. But it’s getting so crazy that Saul says, “Don’t bother. Don’t even want to hear what God has to say. Withdraw your hand.” It’s a tragic irony, because God had already withdrawn his hand from Saul and his kingship.

20 Then Saul and all the people who were with him rallied and went into the battle. And behold, every Philistine’s sword was against his fellow, and there was very great confusion. 21 Now the Hebrews who had been with the Philistines before that time and who had gone up with them into the camp, even they also turned to be with the Israelites who were with Saul and Jonathan. 22 Likewise, when all the men of Israel who had hidden themselves in the hill country of Ephraim heard that the Philistines were fleeing, they too followed hard after them in the battle.

God didn’t need Saul to kill the Philistines. He didn’t need the Israelites—they didn’t have swords anyway. God just had the Philistines kill each other. God is pulling this off, and there was a very great confusion.

There are other details: the Hebrews who had been with the Philistines before that time and who had gone up with them into the camp, even they turned to be with the Israelites who were with Saul and Jonathan. There had been some traitors—Israelites who decided to go with the Philistines. When 30,000 chariots show up, you might be tempted to go with them. A group of Israelites, in covenant unfaithfulness, just went to hang out with the Philistines. Now, they return to Israel.

23 So the Lord saved Israel that day. And the battle passed beyond Beth-aven.

The author wants us to be clear about who saved Israel. It was God. The Lord saved them. The Lord saved Israel that day, and the battle passed beyond Beth-aven. Beth-aven is a corruption of Bethel, “house of God.” It means “house of idolatry,” “house of worthlessness.” God is cleansing the land. Even while Saul is king, while the high priest and the army are unfaithful and hiding, all it took was the faith of Jonathan and his armor bearer for God to faithfully move and do what he had promised to do.

It just takes some mustard seeds. It just takes a little bit of faith. Because it’s not about the amount of faith, the amount of people, or anything we might judge as sufficient. It’s always and only about God’s sufficiency, God’s ability—if we will but trust him. Yahweh saved Israel that day.

What a great story this is about faith—faith in action. We live in a world, a culture, a church culture here in the West, where faith is talked about all the time, but radically misunderstood and discussed in radically different ways. There’s a whole spectrum of how we talk about faith.

On one hand, some see faith as nothing but intellectual belief and certainty: “I know these facts to be true, and that’s my faith.” No experience, no action—just the facts. On the other end, faith is seen as a magical ability to control God, to have God do what we want: “Just name it and claim it.” Faith becomes either incredibly passive, like Saul sitting in the cave—“God, I’m just waiting for you to make the way”—or way too active: “God, this is what you must do, and I demand it in the name of Jesus.”

But Jonathan stands in the middle. He shows us a beautiful picture of what faith is like. Faith isn’t the ability to manipulate God. It’s also not passive, just sitting and waiting for God to do everything. No, God has invited us to join Him in His work and to actively trust Him. It’s when we step out in faith that God meets us there. Faith isn’t passive; it’s active.

“For we walk by faith, not by sight.”

You know what it doesn’t say? It doesn’t say we sit by faith. We wait by faith. No, we walk. We live. It’s active. It’s stepping out into the unknown, trusting that God will meet us there.

Faith is not certainty. It’s also not irrational. Faith isn’t blind in that sense. Faith is trusting God with the unseen because of what we have seen about God. Faith is the ability to trust God with the unknown because of what we have come to know about God already. So it’s not certainty, but it’s also not foolishness.

I love Jonathan. He’s like, “I’m not going over there unless God is going to get me over there. I’m not putting myself in that danger unless I know God is there. But it’s also, ‘Who knows? God can do it, so let’s try.’”

There are far too many in the church today who are paralyzed by grace—just sitting and waiting. “Oh, God, I’ll serve you as long as you make it really clear. I’ll do whatever you want, but you’ve got to give me a detailed GPS, turn-by-turn, highly detailed map, and then it’s go time.” And God’s like, “I want you to walk by faith, not by sight.”

The most powerful image of this kind of faith I’ve ever experienced was when I was a youth pastor in Oregon. I took my youth group to the coast for a day on the beach. One of the kids brought a friend I’d never met before, who got out of the car and pulled out a white cane—he was blind. We got to the beach, and his friend led him down onto the sand. Later, the blind boy turned to me and said, “I’ve always wanted to run.” That hit me. He’d never run. As children, we take running for granted, but he was born blind and had never run. He said, “If I understand this right, this might be the safest place for me ever to run.” I said, “You want to run? Let’s run.”

He took off his glasses, put down his cane, I got on one side, his friend on the other, and soon the whole group was around him. We just started running down the beach. He fell in three steps, laughed, got up, and with wild glee, ran. He couldn’t see where he was going, but he had people around him he trusted, so he was willing to run. He fell, got back up, and kept running. I’ll never forget that moment.

When I think about faith, I think about that moment. I want God to turn the light on, to give me LED strips to show me the path. But God says, “Walk into the dark. I’ve got you. I’m with you. I will never leave you or forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5). “I’m not going to abandon you. I’m not going to give you all the information you’d like to have. That’s not how this is going to work. You’re going to walk by faith, not by sight. But come join me, because that’s where I am.”

This is the reality of faith. Hebrews 11 says it so well:

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

So often, we flip that around and say, “God, I’ll have faith in you if you just show it to me.” No, that’s not faith then. That’s sight. Sometimes God does show it. Sometimes God does give us sight, and that’s okay. Then you’ve got to walk on that. But most of the time, God says, “I want you to trust me. I want you to come. Let’s go. Stop sitting in the cave. Let’s go. It’s time to walk. It’s time to run. It’s time to go. I need you to trust me.”

Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Just because it is not seen does not mean it is not real. Faith isn’t the enemy of reason. It’s not the absence of reason. Faith is the ability to trust God that even though we may not see it or understand it, at the end of the day, it will be worked together for good (Romans 8:28). Just because we can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there. Just because we can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not real.

Hebrews 11 is called the faith chapter because it starts with this declaration and then walks through the story. It starts with creation, then Abraham, the father of faith. Remember Abraham? He trusted God, and it was credited to him as righteousness (Genesis 15:6). God came to him and said, “If you follow me, I’ll make you into a nation. I’ll make your name great. Anyone who blesses you will be blessed. Anyone who curses you, I will curse. In you, all the families of the earth will be blessed” (Genesis 12:2-3). Abraham’s like, “Cool, let’s go.” God said, “That’s faith. You’re able to step into the unknown.” “Where are we going, God?” “Just follow me. I’ll show you the place.” And he went.

Abraham and his wife Sarah had Isaac. I love what the next verse says:

“Therefore from one man, and him as good as dead, were born descendants as many as the stars of heaven and as many as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore.”

You’re not 100 years old and barren and infertile, and God says, “That’s the one I want to create a nation out of.” But that’s exactly what God did. From this one man, as good as dead, came descendants as many as the stars. How good do you need to be? Are you breathing? You’re good. Because it’s not about you. It wasn’t about Abraham. It was always about God.

But these all died in faith—not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth (Hebrews 11:13). We walk by faith and not by sight, but actually walking by faith is its own kind of sight. It’s seeing beyond the circumstances of the present to the promises of God in the future. They never saw it, but they saw it, and so they lived it out.

God’s playing the long game. It’s not your lifetime, not the lifetime of your kids or grandkids. God’s playing the long game, and faith is a long game. That’s hard for us because we’re immediate gratification people. We want it now, our way, instantly. Faith says, “It’s coming, but it’s a long game.” Faith is a journey, a process, part of our identity.

This was true for all the saints mentioned in Hebrews 11. After this, it lists saint after saint—some with great victories, some martyred for their faith. The chapter ends:

“And all these, though commended through their faith, did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect.”

God’s not interested in rescuing one person or one people. God is absolutely determined to reclaim all of his creation for himself. On the basis of what has come before, on the basis of a life of faith by all the saints of old, the author continues in chapter 12:

“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.”

We are surrounded by this cloud of witnesses. Abraham’s watching. Isaac’s watching. David’s watching. Jonathan and the unnamed armor bearer are watching. They lived and died in faith. Therefore, let us lay aside every weight, cast aside every sin that clings so closely, and run with endurance the race set before us. Faith is not passive; it’s active. You’re not called to sit; you’re called to run with endurance what God has called you to do.

Let us run with endurance the race set before us, looking to Jesus. Isn’t that what it’s always about? Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith. He is the object of our faith, and his faith itself is that which we live in. Looking to Jesus, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is now seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

Last week, we saw Jesus never caved in to fear. This week, we see Jesus always demonstrated perfect faith. He lived by faith. It’s the faith of Jesus that satisfies the wrath of God. It’s the faithful obedience of Jesus that allows his death on the cross to become our freedom from the power of sin and death. Jesus not only shows us how not to live in fear, he shows us how to live in faith.

That’s why the author of Hebrews says, “Look at Jesus, remember Jesus, watch Jesus, think about how Jesus operated, and walk that way”—not waiting in passivity, but walking and actively trusting God.

I mentioned last week the Garden of Gethsemane, that great moment, the night he was betrayed before the crucifixion. Jesus tries to get his friends to pray with him; they all keep falling asleep. He goes to the Lord and prays, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done” (Luke 22:42).

Some would look at that and say, “That’s a lack of faith in Jesus.” No, this is, like Jonathan, a demonstration of faith. “I know that, God, with you anything is possible. I know what you’ve asked me to do. If there’s another way…” But he ends with, “Yet nevertheless, not my will, but yours be done.” Jesus is the ultimate example of faith, and his faith changes everything.

Jonathan’s faith invites us into this race of faith—not a sprint fueled by certainty or control, but a long, enduring journey marked by trust in God’s promises and power. Like Jonathan, we may not always see the full path ahead, but faith calls us to step out courageously, trusting that God is working even when the outcome is unclear.

Jesus shows us that we are called to lay aside the weights of fear, doubt, and sin that slow us down. Scripture calls us to fix our eyes on Jesus, who has already finished and run the race perfectly and now empowers us to run with perseverance. Church, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.

So today I challenge you: What weights do you need to lay aside? What cave have you been cowering in? What fears or doubts are holding you back from stepping out in faith? May Jonathan’s example inspire us. “Perhaps the Lord will act for us” (1 Samuel 14:6). Faith is not certainty, but confident trust in God’s character and promises.

So let’s run the race together, encouraging one another, inspired by the great cloud of witnesses and empowered and focused on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith. Let’s step forward today knowing that God is with us and he is able to do far more than we could ever ask or even imagine (Ephesians 3:20).

Amen.