(parallel with Luke 8:41-56)
(Text and Audio)
Title: A Dialogue on Faith
Two blind men followed him from the event where Jesus raised Jarius’ daughter to life. This brings a question to mind: Did Jesus say to crowed “…the girl is not dead, but sleeping…” because He wanted to not draw too much attention to His power?
In other words, to what degree is Jesus trying to keep his ability and Kingship quiet? These men hear of these events and they, like Jarius and the woman with the bleeding before them, start following this man, in hope that he may be able to heal them.
When does hope become faith? More specifically, for these two men, what makes them believe that their hope is in something legitimate?
If I buy a lottery ticket I can hope that I will win, but that doesn’t make it so. If I watch a Browns game I can hope they will win, but, believe me, years of personal experience has taught me that my hoping doesn’t make it so. (Side note: I personally guarantee the Browns will not lose today.)
Now, on the other hand, if I play a game of basketball against Cory I can hope that I will win. But that hope is very different than a hope to win the lottery or hoping the Browns will win. In this case, me and Cory playing basketball, my hope is based on some factors that I know. I know what I am capable of the basketball court, I know my strengths, my weaknesses. I know my opponent. I’ve played with him before. I’ve played against him, I’ve played with him. I know what he is better than me at, I know where I am better than him, and I play my strategy to those advantages.
Thus, my knowledge, my belief, turns my hope into faith.
Hebrews 11:1 tells us “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”
The key word here is substance. What is the thing you are placing your hope in? If it is something that is a bad bet, something with low odds, like winning the lottery or the Browns winning, then you really don’t believe these things can happen, thus it is not faith. I can buy the lottery ticket and truly hope to win. But if someone says, “Do you really believe that you have a chance to win? Do you have faith that you will win?” I must concede I do not.
Why?
Because, using the Hebrews passage, I do not believe in the substance of the thing I am hoping for. At best, winning the lottery is a desperate long shot. It is not, in any degree, a certainty.
So let us return to our opening question: When does hope become faith? It does so when the substance of the thing hoped for is a certainty.
Let us play a game of variables using my basketball example.
I first used Cory as an example because, for the most part, we are an even match. On the court, Cory is bigger and taller than me, and I am quicker and more ruthless than he is. We are, for the most part, an even match.
If someone asks me, “Ben do you have faith that you can beat Cory in a game of 1 on 1?” My response is, “sure.” Why?
I believe it is possible, based on my experiences with Cory in the past.
But if we sub Cory out of the game, and put Eric Politz in his place, now my faith takes an extreme hit. Why? Same reasons. I’ve played with Eric, I’ve played with his twin brother Tim. I’ve seen what they can do. I recognize they are Division I scholarship players, I admit that there is very little I can do on the court to stop them defensively, and while Eric is even bigger than Cory, he is also much quicker than me.
So when Jesus turns to these two men who have been following him solely by sound for what appears to be quite some time, He asks them one simple question, “Do you believe that I am able to do this?”
What is Jesus doing by asking this question?
He is validating the substance of things hoped for.
He’s really asking, “What do you think I am?”
When the response is given, “Yes, Lord.” We see not the first, but the fourth piece of evidence that suggests what these two men believe about Jesus. Anyone catch the first two?
- “Son of David”
- “Have Mercy on Us”
- The fact that they’ve followed him thus far already.
And Jesus’ perfect response is “According to your faith, let it be to you.”
Wow.
Men, your faith tells me, you believe I am the messiah. I see it in the way you address me, both as Son of David. You recognize my authority over sin by asking for my mercy. You are willing to follow me quite some distance and you call me Lord, showing your willingness to bear my burden as loyal subjects of my kingdom.
Pastoral Questioning moment: could the same be said about your faith? I’m not trying to call anyone out here publicly, I truly hope you pass this test with flying colors, but let me give you a faith quiz using this passage:
- Do you believe that Jesus was the son of God?
- Do you believe that He has the power to show mercy on your sins? (Do you believe his grace is sufficient to cover your sin?)
- If you’ve said yes to the first two questions, here comes a harder one: have you followed him thus far, already? Even when you can’t see where you are going?
- Do you confess him as Lord, or just savior?
Close:
Ironically, Jesus leaves these two with only one command, “Don’t tell anyone.” (Presumably because Jesus time of being fully revealed as Messiah had not yet come.)
But they just can’t help themselves.
Today, our problem is just the opposite isn’t it?
We get saved, healed, made whole, and are told in scripture to tell everyone, and, more often than not, we keep silent.