The Great Cloud of Witnesses

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 perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

Hebrews 12:1-2

I have always considered this passage from Hebrews to be comforting--the assurance of heavenly company during our earthly trials, the promise that faithful people who have run their races and now rest from their labors are presently being attentive and sympathetic to us as we run ours.  I have thought there was no better place to read this passage than a place like Duke Chapel, where the images of many of the witnesses are visible--in stone carvings, in colored glass, in rich tapestries.  The silent witnesses stared down at me and my open Bible, the Scripture writer asking me to believe that we undergo no trial alone.


The moments of deep contemplation in a space as holy and grand as Duke Chapel have been for me a touchstone in my later ministry.  I’ve always assumed I’d never experience anything remotely comparable to those sublime moments in the magnificent Gothic surroundings of that place of worship.  







Until now.  As I've enjoyed a deep Ativan-induced slumber on the eve of my bone marrow transplant, a vibrant cloud of witnesses has been pleading, praying, promising on my behalf.  After the nurse came to draw my blood at 3:30 this morning, it broke me from the spell of the Ativan and I lay awake in the darkness, suddenly wide awake and aware of the day’s significance.  To keep from chasing my imagination down too many rabbit trails, I picked up my smart phone and was immediately overwhelmed.  There, in the most mundane instrument of my life, used to text and call and occasionally catch up on Bible or newspaper reading, I was suddenly staring at a cloud of witnesses not named in Hebrews.  These witnesses run their races in settings from corporate consulting to church leadership, from stay-at-home-parenting to sustainable farming.  And here, through the seldom-used Facebook app on my phone, their smiling faces and words of encouragement, their moving prayers and even their sacred songs--all of these crashed and crescendoed into my darkened hospital room, and I knew without a doubt that the Cloud of Witnesses described in Hebrews is still alive and present and as eager as ever to help us run this leg of our race.  And so, miraculously, mysteriously, my humble hospital room took on the grand dimensions of Duke Chapel, where this passage had originally taken on deeper meaning in my life.  This time, however, the cloud of witnesses became visible and audible in the least likely medium--the icons and comment boxes of Facebook.  And I was suddenly reminded that the Savior who became the pioneer and perfecter of our faith is the same one who first showed up in a lowly grotto, surrounded by the first witnesses that ranged from cattle to sheep-herders.  And so it should not surprise me in the least that my phone is now a brimming repository of witnesses that inspire me to lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely and to run with perseverance the race that is set before me.  

Even as I am finishing the last lines of this entry, a decisive leg of this race has begun, with the first of 612 cc’s of marrow cells beginning their journey into the darkened places of my body.  My prayer-enlivened imagination now considers these millions of cells to be part of my internal cloud of witnesses, testifying to the extra-mile generosity of an unknown donor, the miraculous capabilities of medical science, and a grace that asks for nothing but the balance of my life in return.