The Coach Who Played Through the Pain

In 2018, former NBA player Jason Collins volunteered to coach a youth basketball league in South Los Angeles. Collins could have run drills from the sideline with a clipboard and a whistle. Instead, on the first day of practice, he laced up his sneakers and stepped onto the court with a group of fourteen-year-olds who had never had anyone believe in them.

He ran every sprint they ran. He took every elbow under the boards. When one kid, Marcus, wanted to quit after a humiliating turnover, Collins didn't deliver a speech from the bench. He said, "I turned the ball over in an NBA Finals game. Millions of people saw it. I wanted to disappear. But I stayed on the court. So will you."

Marcus stayed.

Collins understood something most mentors miss — authority earned from a distance rarely changes anyone. But when someone who could have stayed comfortable chooses to enter your struggle, to feel what you feel, to sweat and ache alongside you, that presence becomes a lifeline.

This is the staggering claim of Hebrews 2. The Author of salvation did not coach humanity from heaven's sideline. He took on flesh, felt hunger and grief, endured temptation's full weight, and tasted death itself. He is not ashamed to call us brothers and sisters because He became one of us. And because He suffered when He was tempted, He knows exactly how to help when we are tempted too.