Because it is a faith ina trustworthy Savior, genuine faith begins with asking and persisting and proceeds with walking and sharing. Have you asked the Lord to save you? Have you asked as one who knows deep in your heart that there is nowhere else to go, since He alone has the words of eternal life (John 6:68)? Have you set out on a path of obedient trust, walking where His Word has directed you? And have you found this faith you’ve walked in worth sharing?
These are the attributes of a true faith that has the Lord Jesus Christ as its object. But we must remember that we can’t manufacture it. It doesn’t come by verbal manipulation or human constraint. It comes by the work of the Holy Spirit, who alone is able to turn us in faith to the only one worth believing in. The Scriptures tell us, “If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved” (Rom. 10:9). Believe in Jesus, confess Him, and be saved! He is trustworthy, and He will do it. “Everyone who believes in him will not be put to shame” (Rom. 10:11).
This article was adapted from the sermon “An Illustration of Faith” by Alistair Begg.
As he was going down, his servants met him and told him that his son was recovering. So he asked them the hour when he began to get better, and they said to him, “Yesterday at the seventh hour the fever left him.” The father knew that was the hour when Jesus had said to him, “Your son will live.” And he himself believed, and all his household. (John 4:51–53)
As the official made the long journey home on the basis of Jesus’ word, his servants arrived with the astounding news that his son was living and well. They expected him to be dead. They had no explanation. But the official had the answer—and he couldn’t keep it to himself.
This was no time for secrecy! A happy, relieved father, he now had the privilege of sharing his faith with his household, who believed along with him. It may not have been easy to do so. Just like his going to Jesus in the first place, his proclaiming faith in the Galilean peasant may have come with a social cost. But genuine faith will always, sooner or later, become vocal.
We ought to be skeptical of any approach to Christianity and proclamation of the Gospel that does not first confront men and women with the necessity of seeing their sin and their need of Christ.
In Acts chapter 4, when the religious officials in Jerusalem told the apostles not to preach anymore of this man called Jesus, Peter and John replied, “We cannot but speak of what we have seen and heard” (Acts 4:20). It’s completely understandable that having faith for faith’s sake is not much to talk about. It is, after all, an empty faith. But when our faith has an object as wonderful as the divine Word who became a man to save people from their sins and welcome them into the life of God, it would be strange for us to keep quiet.
This article was adapted from the sermon “An Illustration of Faith” by Alistair Begg.
Jesus said to him, “Go; your son will live.” The man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him and went on his way. (John 4:50)
The simplicity of Jesus’ words that follow is almost mind-boggling. Here is a man who has traveled all this way, risked his reputation, cried out for mercy, been confronted with this question of the miraculous signs, and replied with a word of desperately persevering faith—and the response of Jesus is simply to send him off with the promise that his plea has been granted.
You can imagine the official standing there, just dumbstruck for a moment, saying, “Is that it? Shouldn’t I have a certificate or something? Shouldn’t I take a little snip off your garment, Lord Jesus, and take it down and stick it on his forehead?” But Jesus simply says, “You may go. Your son is well.” He gives this man the opportunity of putting his faith into action. He gives him the chance to move from walking by sight (by looking at a miraculous wonder) into the realm of walking by faith (by listening to and believing a miraculous word).
We, too, are often preoccupied with signs and wonders. Some of us have almost a strange dependence on tangible, visible evidences—but they can quickly prove to be the trappings of empty faith. With true faith, we hear the promise of Christ to us, believe it, and, like the official, may set out again in obedience to the Lord’s word, knowing with certainty its truth.
While we have not all received a promise of physical healing as this royal official did, Jesus has offered us salvation from sin and death. In spite of the desperate condition to which sin has brought us, we may walk in His promise of life: “Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life” (John 5:24).
This article was adapted from the sermon “An Illustration of Faith” by Alistair Begg.
So Jesus said to him, “Unless you see signs and wonders you will not believe.” The official said to him, “Sir, come down before my child dies.” (John 4:48–49)
In responding to the official, Jesus also addresses the larger crowd, challenging their preoccupation with the sensational. Even the official himself, if he was really from Herod’s court, may have been influenced by Herod’s sensational approach to things (Luke 23:8). So Jesus turns to the people and essentially says, “Is that all you’re interested in—that I would come around and do miraculous signs and wonders?”
True Christian faith begins with the humility of heart to come as the royal official did and to ask Christ to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves.
In this challenge was a test. If the official had given up despairingly on the spot or turned away petulantly, unwilling to accept the implied rebuke, Jesus would have known that he was a mere trifler like the rest of the crowd. Jesus is not an unwilling Savior, but He is not willing to be treated as a sideshow. We must be in earnest before the help of Christ can come to us—and an earnest faith is a persistent, persevering faith. It is faith that hangs on to Christ in the way a man fallen overboard clings to the lifeline offered him. And the official reveals such a faith with his desperate words: “Sir, come down before my child dies.”
We ought to be skeptical of any approach to Christianity and proclamation of the Gospel that does not first confront men and women with the necessity of seeing their sin and their need of Christ. That confrontation is ultimately the work of the Holy Spirit, who may come to a heart in a moment and say, “You’re drowning in the sea of your rebellion and indifference.” It is one thing to fill out a card at church and say, “I believe in Jesus Christ”—but words confessed from a heart that doesn’t believe flow from an empty faith (James 2:19). We will have true faith in Christ when we realize that there is nowhere else to turn and so persevere in crying for His mercy. True faith is “Help me!” faith.
This article was adapted from the sermon “An Illustration of Faith” by Alistair Begg.
He came again to Cana in Galilee, where he had made the water wine. And at Capernaum there was an official whose son was ill. When this man heard that Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee, he went to him and asked him to come down and heal his son, for he was at the point of death. (John 4:46–47)
Genuine faith begins when a man or a woman is humble enough to come to Christ for help. In John 4:46, we see a royal official—perhaps a member of King Herod’s court—come to someone many thought of as a mere peasant for aid. It is an improbable scene, an event that would cause more than a ripple in this man’s social circle. But neither convention nor custom stopped him. He came humbly and sincerely, without caring what others might have to say.
We often would like to be among the ranks of the faithful. We like to say, “I have faith.” But too frequently, we want a faith that fits. We want a faith that saves face. We want a faith that allows us to do what we want to do with a Christ who will embrace us at the level of our interest and allow us some measure of control over our lives.
You may believe whatever you like about Christ, but it is an empty faith if you have not bowed at the feet of Jesus the Nazarene to ask for the mercy. True Christian faith begins with the humility of heart to come as the royal official did and to ask Christ to do for us what we cannot do for ourselves .
This article was adapted from the sermon “An Illustration of Faith” by Alistair Begg.
This week we will be sharing from an Alistair Begg sermon series “An Illustration of Faith”.
To one degree or another, everyone has faith. Anyone who has sat down in a barber’s chair has exercised faith in the barber’s skill. Anyone who has used an app to send money has trusted that it will get to the right person. But when it comes to the realm of religious experience, all kinds of spurious notions about faith abound. Indeed, one of the great barriers to an experience of true faith in God is confusion about what that faith actually is.
People often say, “As long as you have faith, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?” To that we can say both yes and no. Yes, faith does matter, and yes, faith alone is the means by which we take hold of God’s salvation. But true faith is not in and of itself. A large man may step out onto a sheet of ice one inch thick with great faith that he will not fall through—and he’ll soon be swimming! No amount of faith will make the ice hold him up. But a foot of ice and a mustard seed’s weight of faith (Matt. 17:20; Luke 17:6) will mean a dry (if slippery) walk. It is not the amount of faith but the object of the faith that matters. Faith is genuine and lasting when it is placed in the most trustworthy object of all: Jesus Christ, the divine Word made flesh (John 1:14).
The Gospel of John offers us an illustration of this kind of faith in the account of a royal official who came to Jesus seeking a miracle for his sick son. He directed his faith to the only one who has the power to do something—and Jesus indeed proved himself faithful. This short account reminds us that when we have true, saving faith, we will, like the royal official, seek the Lord’s help, persist in seeking Him, walk with trust in Him, and share the good He has done.
This article was adapted from the sermon “An Illustration of Faith” by Alistair Begg.
Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord. (1 Corinthians 1:31)
There are two ways to respond wrongly to the good news of the gospel: the self-righteous response that refuses to see a need for Christ and the self-deprecating response that refuses to see Christ’s ability to forgive. Both issue from the common root of pride.
The self-righteous response says, “I’m actually a pretty good person. I’m not sure I need forgiveness. Maybe it’s good for some other people, but to be honest I don’t need it.” People who respond this way perhaps sense slight deficiencies in themselves and try to make up for them with good behavior. Maybe they even go to church to get some more “frequent attender miles” so that they’ll get better seats in heaven. But still, their place in eternity will be, they think, secured by themselves—their goodness, their efforts. The pride at the heart of this response is obvious: it is to think we are too good to need the gospel. Christ’s sacrifice is a nice example of love to us but unnecessary for us as a way to be saved.
The self-deprecating response says, “I’m such a mess that I don’t think there’s any hope for me. I am too terrible to deserve forgiveness. It must be great to know you’re forgiven, but to be honest I know I could never have that.” People who respond this way simply cannot bring themselves to believe that Jesus could ever love and forgive them. The pride in this response is subtler than in the first, but just as real: we believe we are too dreadful for the gospel, that our actions have taken us too far away for Jesus to reach us. Christ’s sacrifice is great for those who are better than us, but it could never be enough for us.
Whenever someone feels too good or too bad for the gospel (and Christians are not immune from this temptation), it is pride that is restraining them from coming to Christ. Their confidence—their boasting—lies in what they have done, for good or for ill. What pride misses, however, is that we can be neither good enough nor too far gone. The self-righteous among us need to hear that even our best days are filled with more flaws than we know. The self-deprecating among us need to hear that even our worst days are never beyond the reach of God’s grace.
Both responses miss the core gospel truth that Christ’s cross simultaneously knocks down your self-worth and lifts you from your worthlessness. When you’re tempted to boast about your worth, then, remember that what you most need—salvation—comes from Christ alone. And when you’re tempted to despair in worthlessness, remember that what you most need—salvation—was only ever yours because of Christ alone. No matter what, Christ is your confidence, your boast—and you can never brag about Him too much!
Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth. (Ecclesiastes 12:1)
Not everyone ages at the same rate or in the same way. Some people are full of life well on into their twilight years, while others fade long before their time. But all of us, no matter how young or old, no matter how we feel or how frail we are, are moving one day at a time toward the day that the lights finally go out.
It’s with that end in mind that the author of Ecclesiastes calls us to remember our Creator while we still have time. But when he says “Remember,” he’s not calling us to a mechanical exercise such as recalling irregular English verbs or multiplication tables. The call to remember encourages us to drop every sense of self-sufficiency and to cast ourselves unreservedly on God as our Creator and Sustainer. To “remember your Creator” means to know Him, love Him, and serve Him as your highest joy.
The timeframe in which this exhortation is to be responded to is significant: the writer specifically urges his readers to remember God “in the days of your youth.” If you are no longer young, don’t worry—this may apply to you much more than you think! The Bible is far more flexible concerning youthfulness than we are. Even so, there is no question that those who are younger particularly need to heed these instructions.
We must beware of saying to ourselves, “I’ll get around to the serious stuff when the serious time comes.” This is the serious time! The days will soon come when you will not be able to see as you once saw, hear as you once heard, or walk as you once walked. However fast or slowly, the house of your life is breaking down. How tragic it would be to assume that you can remember your Creator tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, but never today, and then find that there is no more tomorrow. Beware of allowing the best years of your life to pass filled with things that will ultimately prove to be worthless. Remember your Creator while you have the opportunity. And if you feel your best years are already behind you, remember this also: God is able to “restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten” (Joel 2:25). It is better to remember now than to spend eternity with regret.
Now I would remind you, brothers, of the gospel I preached to you, which you received, in which you stand, and by which you are being saved, if you hold fast to the word I preached to you—unless you believed in vain. (1 Corinthians 15:1-2)
The good news of the gospel can so easily be forgotten or taken for granted. If we begin to feel that we need to go beyond it, or we find it irrelevant in our lives or affections, we should be concerned, not complacent. Just as young children need regular reminders to keep them from forgetting what they need to remember, we need to recall routinely the transforming power of Jesus Christ in human hearts.
Why? Because the gospel is not just the way in to salvation but the way ofsalvation; it is not only the ABC of the Christian life but the A to Z. It is the word to which we must “hold fast.”
As Paul describes it in 2 Corinthians 4:3, life without the gospel is like living with a veil covering our eyes: we are blinded by our own sin, by our pursuit of comfort or doing “enough” good, or even by our own theology or religious adherence. This clouded vision is common to all mankind; by nature, we all face a No Entry sign at the gate of heaven. The road is flooded, and there is apparently no way through. But the gospel, the glorious news, is this: there is one who stands ready to clear the way. In His living, dying, and resurrection, Jesus lived the life we can’t, died the death we deserve, and conquered death once and for all so that all who believe can have a relationship with God.
On the day we first understood the full weight of this—the day when God’s grace opened our clouded eyes, unplugged our ears, and softened our hardened hearts—we could run no other way than toward Him, crying, “Save me!” As the old hymn says:
Long my imprisoned spirit lay Fast bound in sin and nature’s night; Thine eye diffused a quickening ray, I woke, the dungeon flamed with light; My chains fell off, my heart was free; I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.[1]
Now, having run to Him as the gospel bids us, we need to remain with Him as the gospel reminds us. So, where does the gospel find you today? Are you living in this freedom? Or are you still occasionally living as though imprisoned, trying, trying, trying with all your might to find the freedom only Christ gives?
To the Christian, the gospel is and must be as water in a dry land. It is the priceless, payment-free water that the Lord Jesus offers—it is the water of life (Revelation 21:6). Be sure to rehearse to yourself the simple gospel today, and every day, so that it never grows cold to you and so that you live in the freedom that Christ died to win for you.
FOOTNOTES
1 Charles Wesley, “And Can It Be, That I Should Gain?” (1738).
Sandra Bivens Smith 