One Faith

Well, I invite you to turn to Ephesians and to chapter 4. And for some time now, we’ve been here in verses 4, 5, and 6, and here we are again in verse 5: “one Lord, one faith, one baptism,” and our focus this morning simply on two words, “one faith.”

I didn’t mean to go as slowly through this verse as we have ended up doing, but perhaps it is purposeful. And we end up tackling each of these phrases almost in a topical manner—in an expositionally topical manner. But nevertheless…

So we need to pause for a moment and ask God’s help:

Father, we always need the help of the Holy Spirit when we turn to the Bible, so that beyond the voice of a mere man, we might not simply understand things intellectually, but that we might have a divine, meaningful encounter with you, the living God, through your Word. We sang in our song that we take our stand on this Word. And so then, come, and meet with us, we pray. For Jesus’ sake. Amen.

Well, it’s important as we move through this sort of in an atomized way that we remember that what Paul has begun to do here at the beginning of chapter 4 is urge the believers in Ephesus to maintain the unity which is theirs in and through the Lord Jesus Christ. This is not a unity that they are to create—they couldn’t create it—but it is a unity which arises from the unity that exists within the Godhead himself, so that there is “one Lord”; there is “one Spirit”;[1] there is “one God and Father of all.”[2]

And we have been looking at this sevenfold foundation, as we’ve put it, of Christian unity. We’ve said “there is one body” because there is only “one Spirit” that indwells each of us and together. We’ve been “called to … one hope.”[3] That is part of the birthright of our call to salvation. There is “one Lord.” We’re not free to believe anything other than he has taught. We’re not free to believe except in the way that he demands. We’re not free to live in isolation, because in being united to Christ, we are united to one another in Christ. And this “one Lord” is the foundation of this “one faith.”

So, what I’d like to do is think about faith. In fact, I woke up early this morning with a thought in mind. I thought, “I think I have a title for this morning. I’ll call it ‘What a Difference Faith Makes.’” And then I thought, “No, that’s not very good at all,” so I dispensed with it. But we’re dealing with it in a way that is almost immediately accessible, and then it is very possible for us to go immediately wrong.

So, let’s just think in terms of faith as it is presented to us in Scripture—defined, if you like, discovered; and then a moment or two on how we see faith worked out and displayed; and then, in conclusion, just say something about the implications of life lived where biblical Christian faith is denied. All right?

So then, first of all, we’re thinking about defining this faith.

All of us live in the realm of faith, to one degree or another, don’t we? There is a faith that we all exercise. I didn’t come to check to see if you all checked the seats before you sat in them. I would imagine that you didn’t. You just sat down. That was an exercise of some kind of faith. Some of you have had your hair cut recently. That is an expression of faith—in some cases, greater faith than is customary. You deposit money in the bank in the awareness that apparently, they’re going to look after it. You take medication that some lady in a white coat, or gentleman in a white coat, rustles around with, and you take it home, and you swallow it. You ever think about that? You’re exercising a measure of faith that the person, the pharmacy, is actually reliable. We understand that kind of thing. It’s straightforward.

But that is not what Paul is referencing here when he says that there is this “one faith.” Because remember, each of these characteristics are expressions of the nature of unity which is enjoyed in the body of Christ. So that helps us from going off at a tangent. Everything that he’s referencing here, including baptism—which may become an expression of division, actually—is a foundation of unity. So, the faith to which Paul is referring takes place in the realm, if you like, of that natural capacity, but it differs in this vital dimension: that natural faith—what I’ve just been describing, the kind that drinks from the water faucet without doing research project—natural faith is not spiritual faith, because spiritual faith is not natural faith.

“Well,” you say, “what is this faith?” Well, you just look in your Bible. He’s mentioned it. Ephesians 2:8: “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.” So, if you like, natural faith comes by natural birth, and spiritual faith comes from God. It is actually “the gift of God.”

The Westminster divines gave their attention to this and provide us with a very helpful statement in section 14 of the Westminster Confession and part 1. It reads as follows: “The grace of faith, by which [we] are enabled to believe to the saving of our souls, is the work of the Spirit of Christ in [our] hearts, and is ordinarily produced through the ministry of the Word,” and by the same means, “faith is [strengthened] and [increased].”[4] I plan on memorizing that for myself. I find it profoundly helpful. Let me read it to you again: “The grace of faith, by which [we] are enabled to believe to the saving of our souls, is the work of the Spirit of Christ in [our] hearts, and is ordinarily produced through the ministry of the Word,” and by that same means—i.e., the ministry of the Word—“faith is [strengthened] and [increased].” All right?

Natural faith comes by natural birth, and spiritual faith comes from God.

So, in other words, it is ordinarily the case that since God has ordained preaching, even though men and women regard it as foolishness and say, “Nobody wants to listen to it. Nobody can hear it. Nobody can understand it. In the Twitter age, unless you’re a Twitterer, you will just be irrelevant. If you go and try to talk for a long time and ask people to think, it can’t happen”—God knew all of that when he said, “I want you to actually stand up in a monologic form and preach the Word of God.” Why? Because ordinarily, it is the means whereby the grace of saving faith is imparted to those who believe to the saving of their souls.

Now, when the Westminster divines wrote this in the seventeenth century, they were not launching off. They were simply substantiating what the Bible itself says. If you want, you just look at Romans chapter 10, where Paul makes the very same point. Romans 10, he says, “How … will they call on him”—that’s Jesus—“in whom they[’ve] not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they[’ve] never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? … So faith comes from hearing”—verse 17 of that same section—“faith [through] hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.”[5] “Through the word of Christ.” All right?

How about in Ephesus? Well, Ephesians chapter 2, and Paul has been reminding the Ephesian believers of the amazing dimension that has taken place amongst them, where a Jew and gentile, who have been separated from one another not only ethnically but philosophically and in so many different ways—they’ve been separated from one another quite literally by a physical barrier, a barrier that represented hostility (as significant a barrier as the Berlin Wall, in many ways)—that existed; that has been broken down.[6] They have now been united in Christ. How did that happen? Ephesians 2:17: “And he came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near.” To whom does the “he” refer? Jesus. So what is Paul saying? Paul says that Jesus came and preached to the gentiles, who were far away, and to the Jews, who were near by virtue of their privileged background in the Old Testament.

But, of course, we know that Jesus never physically came to Ephesus to preach. So why would Paul say, “And he came and preached”? Because he did come and preach. How did Jesus preach to Ephesus? In the same way that Jesus preaches to Parkside Church. He preached to Ephesus through Paul and Paul’s companions—so that actually, when the Word is truly preached, the preacher is entirely subservient, may be significantly lost sight of, in the awareness of the fact that it is ordinarily the work of the Spirit of God to take the Word of God, whereby Jesus preaches it by the Holy Spirit, in and through the voice of a mere man, in and through personality. But when anything ever of significance happens, it is because Jesus came and preached.

Now, you go and research this on your own. You go and read, for example, Psalm 22, the great messianic psalm, which is Jesus’ words from the cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”[7] That’s Psalm 22. Read down in Psalm 22, and the psalmist says, “And I will proclaim your name in the assembly, in the congregation of the righteous. I will sing your praise amongst your people.”[8] Okay? You go to the book of Hebrews, and the writer to the Hebrews puts those words in Jesus’ lips. He says, “This is Jesus.”[9]

So we don’t actually have a “worship leader.” We have someone who helps in leading us in our praise. But the leitourgos, the “minister” of Hebrews 8:2, is Jesus. Leitourgos, which should make you think of liturgy—the liturgist is Jesus. Jesus leads the singing. Jesus does the preaching, ultimately. It is by the word of Christ. Where is the word of Christ? Inscripturated for us here. How is it to be proclaimed? Through flawed human beings doing their best to study the Bible and say, “This is what it says. But you’re sensible people; see if you can get ahold of it for yourselves.” And mysteriously, in and through and beyond and under all of that, God is at work ordinarily, bringing men and women to faith in Jesus Christ.

That’s why I love it in the baptisms, when I’m standing or sitting somewhere, and someone stands up out of the blue and says, “On the twenty-second of May seven years ago, at a morning service, I believed in Jesus Christ as my Savior.” I never knew a thing about it. I never had any idea about it. I apparently had no part in it at all, save being simply a trumpet on which the Lord Jesus Christ chose to blow for half an hour or so.

See how it sets us down and sets Christ up? See how it says it’s abhorrent when people who fulfill this role are preoccupied with themselves and fascinated by their abilities or bemoaning this or that? No, it’s a wonderful thing.

“Lastly,” he says, “was revealed to me, as one untimely born, the mystery of it all.”[10] Faith. Sixteen forty-nine, one of those Westminster divines, a fellow by the name of William Greenhill, he said this: “Where the word of God is not expounded, preached, and applied … the people … perish.”[11] “Where the word of God is not expounded, preached, and applied … the people … perish.” Drive around the United States, drive past churches where there is virtually not a soul in there, and I can guarantee you that it is because the Bible is not expounded, preached, and applied. Where you find the Bible being expounded, preached, and applied, whether the company is small or large, you will find life. You will find vibrancy. You will find truth. You will find evangelism.

Come back to my own country, in Scotland, and I can take you down the streets. I can guarantee you, “This place will be darker than a cave. This one will be filled with light. This one will have three old ladies in it and an old man with a stick. This will be bursting with university students.” And the person on the outside says, “What is the difference?” I’ll tell you what the difference is: this is the difference. This is the difference.

Now, when people like me say this, it sounds as if we’re just, you know, trying to create job security for ourselves. But no. Because that’s why… How can you preach unless you’re sent? It’s wonderful, isn’t it?

Now, that’s enough concerning this by way of introduction. Turn back to 1 Corinthians 15, and let’s ask the question, “Well, how then… Give us an illustration of what it means for the Word of God, then, to take root in lives and in a congregation.”

So, we could stay in Ephesians, but just for a change, let’s go to these familiar words in 1 Corinthians 15. What he’s doing in this chapter on the resurrection is he’s reminding his readers, at the head of it, that they have a shared faith and that this faith—this “gospel,” as he refers to it—is understandable and is definable and is there to be considered. And I want you just simply to notice the progression: “I [want to] remind you, brothers [and sisters], of the gospel I preached to you.”[12] “I preached to you.” That’s the first and straightforward. He says, “I came, and I preached this to you.”

Now, if you go back to the beginning of 1 Corinthians, you remember he says, “When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I didn’t come with wise words and impressing everybody by these things. I didn’t employ high-sounding arguments. I didn’t try to be wiser than I am. I didn’t try to do signs so that you would think it was spectacular. No,” he says, “I actually determined to know nothing among you save Jesus Christ and him crucified. And,” he said, “the reason I did this is because I wanted to make sure that your faith would rest in the power of God and not in the wisdom of man.”[13] He says, “Because if you think about it, God’s apparent foolishness in the cross is actually wiser than man’s wisdom. And in the wisdom of God, he has determined that it wouldn’t be through human wisdom that a man or a woman would come to know God but rather through the foolishness of what we preach.”[14] It all ties in.

And so he says, “I came, and I preached to you. I preached this gospel to you.” And in verse 3 he says, “[And] I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins.”[15] This is so vitally important. He says, “I made sure that I explained to you that at the cross of Jesus Christ, the justice of God and the love of God were made clear.”

He writes to the Roman church, and he says, you know, “All [of us] have sinned and fall[en] short of the glory of God, and are justified,” declared right in God’s sight, “by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.”[16] So the very heart of the gospel—the very heart of the gospel—is what in theological terms we refer to as the substitutionary atonement—that God has placed upon Jesus our sins and the punishment that attaches to them.

He has done so, says Paul, “in accordance with the Scriptures.”[17] In other words, he says, “If you read the rest of the Bible, you will find that it points in this direction and underpins it.” So you go back into Isaiah the prophet, who stands on his tiptoes, writing Isaiah 53: “Surely he has borne our griefs.” He’s “carried our sorrows; … we esteemed him … smitten by God, and afflicted. [Yet] he was [wounded] for our transgressions; he was [bruised] for our iniquities; … the chastisement,” the punishment, “that brought us peace” was “upon him.” And by his stripes, “wounds we are healed.”[18] This is the gospel, you see. This is the fact. This is “the faith.”

So, when you have a congregation that is grounded in “the faith,” in the nature of redemption and justification, it’s not that you’ve put together a group of people who are interested, you know, like, in faith—faith in faith. You hear it all the time at the end of news broadcasts: “Well, we’re sending our thoughts out.” Well, that’s nice. Or, “I’m sure our faith is” whatever. What does that mean?

When you come to the Bible, there’s nothing vague about it. When you listen to Paul, he says, “This is what I preached to you. I preached the gospel to you. And of first importance, right in the cornerstone of it all, I said to you, ‘The issue is this great exchange—that God has made us for himself; he’s created us for his glory and his purpose; he has given us gifts and abilities and intellect and everything, in order that we might acknowledge him. But we have exchanged the truth of God for a lie. We have worshiped the creature rather than the Creator.[19] And the implications of that have followed us.’” That’s exchange number one. Exchange number two: we have exchanged his glory for things that crawl.[20] He has exchanged the glory of heaven in order to take our place in punishment, in order that we might enter into his glory. This is at the heart of the Christian faith. They were brought to believe that Jesus is the Son of God, that Jesus died for their sins, that Jesus was raised on the third day, that Jesus appeared.[21] “So,” he says, “we preach[ed]” and “you believed.”[22] “You believed.” “I … remind you, brothers, of the gospel I preached …, which you [yourself] received.”[23]

Thirdly: “And in it you have taken your stand.”[24] “And you have taken your stand.” “Here I stand,” said Luther. “I can do no other.” Not a standing in social status, or intellectual capacity, or moral philosophy, or religious zeal, or legal rectitude, or good deeds. No. They have taken their stand on the Lord Jesus Christ. Only a perfect man could die for the sinner. An imperfect man could not die for the sinner; he would need someone to die for him. Christ kept the law in all of its perfection. This is our stand.

Is this where you stand? Someone asks you about your faith—say to you, “Well, are you a person of faith?”—say, “Oh, yes.”

They’ll say, “Well, what is your thing?”

Well, you’ll tell them. You say, “Well, I’m not going to sing it to you, but I could give it to you in a song.”

“Okay. Go ahead.”

So you’ll tell them. You say,

My faith has found a resting place,
Not in device [or] creed;
I trust the ever-living one,
His wounds for me shall plead.[25]

They’re going to go, “What?”

You’re going to say—then you’ll tell them—“The whole story of the Bible is about sacrifice, about substitution.” You’ll tell them about the skins of the animals clothing the nakedness of Adam and Eve. You can tell them about the story of Abraham and Isaac. You can work your way through all the stories that you learned at Sunday school, pointing to the one who was to come, who would take the place of sinners. And then you can tell them, “My faith is resting in the Word, the living Word of God.”[26]

And people say, “Well, that’s fascinating. So that’s what you mean about being saved, is it?”

You tell them, “Yes.”

“Do you even use that terminology?”

You say, “Well, the Bible uses it.”

Christ kept the law in all of its perfection. This is our stand.

“I preached. You received. You took your stand. And by this you are being saved.” “You’re being saved.” On what basis are you being saved? On the basis of what Jesus has done. Not on the basis of what we’re doing, and certainly not on the basis of how we’re doing. The answer to the question “How am I acceptable before God?” is the same all day, every day: on the strength of what another has done. I am accepted in him—in the same way that you can’t just walk into Augusta National, just go, “Hey, I’m Alistair. I just wanted to come and play at Augusta.” They’ll give you the bum-rush right down Primrose Avenue or whatever you call it—Magnolia Way. But I can go in with somebody who’s got the green jacket, and all I have to say is “I’m with him.” Are you going to stand at the gate of God’s heaven? Are you going to tell him about yourself? Not a good idea! But there is one thing you can say: “I’m with him. I’m in him.” “If any man is in Christ, he’s made new. The old is gone; the new has come.”[27]

“If”—if—“you hold fast to the word I preached to you—unless you [have] believed in vain.”[28] Whoa! “Unless you believed in vain.” That means you can believe in vain. That means you can think you believe, and you don’t believe. You remember Jesus says in Matthew chapter 7, “Many in that day will call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and they will say, ‘We cast out demons in your name. We preached. We did all kinds of stuff.’” And he’ll say, “Depart from me. I never even knew you.”[29]

He then goes on to say, “There was a man who built his house on the sand. And when the winds and the waves hit it, it collapsed. There was another man who built his house on the rock. When the winds and waves came, it stood firm.” He said, “Now, let me explain what I’m talking about. If anyone hears my words and does not actually put them into practice—believe them, receive them, take their stand on them—that man, that woman, will be like somebody who builds a house on sand. And as soon as the implications of life and the realities of eternity hit them, they will collapse.”[30] The distinction, you see, is not in the hearing of it, but it is in the believing of it. “Anyone who hears my word and does not put it into practice: sand. Anyone who hears my word and puts into practice, believes it, rests in it: rock.”

Now, what is Paul doing here? He’s doing what the writer to the Hebrews does—that is, there’s a little zinger here at the end of this great affirmation: “Here is the gospel I preached to you, which you have received, on which you have taken your stand, and by which you are being saved, if…” If. If what? “If you’re really being saved.”

Hebrews says the very same thing—the writer to the Hebrews. You can read this for your homework. Hebrews chapter 3: the writer says, “We belong to him, if indeed we hold fast our confidence to the end.”[31] If we don’t, then it will be apparent that we don’t. He’s not talking about losing your salvation. He’s talking about a spurious profession of faith. He’s talking about somebody who, like in the parable of the seed and the sowers, where the seed falls down, and there’s an immediate reaction, and it blooms immediately. Wow, what a success! You come back ten days later, it’s gone! There’s no evidence of life at all.[32] Read the parable for yourself. What is Jesus saying? He’s saying that when the Word of God is sown, there are all kinds of reactions to it. Some people actually make a great profession of believing immediately, and there’s no life there at all. There’s no root. There’s no reality. It never happened. Others may be sitting there chewing on it day after day after day, and eventually, the seed germinates. It may be tiny at first, but it’s going, and there’s life, and it brings forth fruit.[33]

Again in Hebrews: “We have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold [on to] our … confidence firm to the end.”[34] Hebrews again: “See to it, brothers and sisters, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God.”[35] What’s that in there for? Because the inclination of my heart is sinful!

I mean, we sing about it. Let’s just get straightforward: “Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.”[36] I mean, we sing that. Are we quite happy about that? We should have our hankies out, singing that. “See to it.” In other words, “as it is in your power.” That’s why you need this Bible. That’s why you need to listen to the Bible preached, as tough as it may be many times. Why? Because ordinarily, as the Confession says, it is through the preaching of the Word that not only is faith engendered but faith is sustained and faith is strengthened. So when you absent yourself from the teaching of the Bible, from whatever source it comes, you lay yourself open to the difficulties that then are there.

“See to it that you don’t have a sinful, unbelieving heart.” What is one of the ways to do that? Make sure you’re in the Word. Make sure you read your Bible. Make sure you keep short accounts with sin. Make sure you stay in touch with God. You don’t want to be like some of the characters in Pilgrim’s Progress, do you? Pilgrim sets off from his home, got his fingers over his ears. His people are calling him back: “Don’t be crazy, Pilgrim! You’re nuts! You’re a crazy man!” “No! No! I’m going! I’m going!” And he hooks up with Obstinate. Obstinate’s there for, you know, like, fifteen minutes. As soon as Obstinate gets an inkling of what’s involved, he says, “Tush! Away with your book!” he says. And he says to Pliable, his friend, “Come back with me. Don’t go on with that guy Pilgrim. He’s nuts! There’s a company of these crazy characters!” He says, “They’re wiser in their own eyes than seven men that can render a reason.” And Pliable says, “No, no. You go ahead, Obstinate. I’m sticking on the pathway. I’ll be good.”

“Now,” says Bunyan, “I saw in my dream that when Obstinate was gone back, Christian and Pliable went talking over the plain; and thus they began their discourse.” It’s wonderful! And so Pilgrim is explaining to Pliable, who’s asking, “Well, what’s this like, you know? What can we expect?” And in almost pre–C. S. Lewis terms, he gives him this amazing picture of all the crowns and the seraphim and everything that is before them, and Pliable’s really quite excited about it. It seems like you’ll be transported to heaven “on flowery beds of ease.”[37] This is terrific! And then, all of a sudden, boom!—they walk right into the Slough of Despond. Pft! Right up to their knees, covered in mud, splattered all over their face. And Pliable goes, “Hey, wait a minute! I thought we were going to the Heavenly City. I thought we had the seraphim and the kings and the royal crowns. What is this about?” And he says,

“Listen, is this the happiness you told me about? If it’s this bad and we’ve only set out, what can we expect at the journey’s end? I need to get out with my life. You go! You go possess the country on your own.”

And with that, he gave a desperate struggle or two, and he got out of the mire on that side of the Slough, which was next to his own house; and so he went away, and Christian saw him no more.[38]

The epistles of John: “They went out from us, [because] they were not of us; … if they had been of us, they would have [remained] with us.”[39] He’s not talking about church membership. He’s talking about those who are the genuine followers of Jesus.

And you read on in the Progress, and you say, “Well, what happened to Pliable? After he got out, what did he do?” Listen:

Then I saw in my dream, by this time Pliable was got home to his house. So his neighbors came to visit him. And some of them called him a wise man for coming back.

“Man, you got rid of that Christian stuff! That was smart! Heh-heh! I can’t believe you even went!”

And some of them called him a wise man for coming back; some of them called him a fool for hazarding himself with Christian.

“What? I can’t even believe you would even hang around with that guy. He’s a nut! You know, that book—he’s always reading the Book, and he’s heading for a city, and phew! Phew!”

Others mocked his cowardliness, saying, “Since you began the venture, why couldn’t you have stayed with it? A few difficulties and you’re back already?”

And Bunyan writes,

So Pliable sat sneaking among them. But at last he got more confidence, and then they all turned their tails and began to deride poor Christian behind his back. And thus much concerning Pliable.[40]

“I preached it. You received it. You took your stand in it. You are being saved by it, if—if—you continue.” The ground of our salvation is entirely outside of us in the work of Christ. That’s why we sang the song “My Faith Has Found a Resting Place.” The evidence of it is in our continuance—that we’re still on the horse; that “through many dangers, toils, and snares,”[41] ups and downs, fits and starts, fears, failures, messes, chaos, we’re actually still in the game. Why? Because the grace of God that saves us keeps us, makes us awful thankful to him.

Now, my time is gone, but I want to say two more things—and say it quickly. Ask yourself the question, then: If this saving faith is imparted to me, what are the evidences that might be apparent in reflecting on things and in looking to the future? For this, for your homework, I suggest Hebrews 11. Justin has already quoted from Hebrews 11 this morning, before he led us in prayer, and helpfully so. The first six verses will get you on the right track: “By [faith] the men of old gained approval.”[42]

The ground of our salvation is entirely outside of us in the work of Christ.

And so, read the story. Think about it in these terms. Think about Moses. You’ll find him there in Hebrews 11, in the Hall of Fame, as it were. Moses, we’re told, decides to forego the pleasures, the immediate opportunities that are before him for prominence, success, aggrandizement and so on.[43] And it says that the reason that he forsook these things was because he was looking to a city whose builder and maker is God.[44] It’s a very straightforward but wonderful statement. “He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than [all] the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward.”[45] In other words, he was looking to see a Messiah who was going to come and who did not show up for more than fourteen hundred years. For “the reproach of Christ,” who was to come fourteen hundred years later, Moses ditched all this stuff and chose to suffer affliction with the people of God. That was faith. You see, he saw what others couldn’t see.

You have the exact same thing… You take, for example, from another place: Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. They’re taken away, along with Daniel and the others, into the exile. Their parents have brought them up. We’re going to find out how they do. Now they’re confronted by the big, visible, powerful King Nebuchadnezzar. Are they going to do what big King Nebuchadnezzar says, that they can see, and respond to and fear? Or are they going to submit to the living God, whom they have never seen?[46] You see, by faith they see “him who is invisible.”[47]

What about Noah?

“Noah, we’re going to have a flood.”

“A what? We haven’t even had rain.”

“No, there’ll be a flood. Now, I want you to build something.”

“A what?”

“It’s an ark. Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you how to do it.”[48]

And Noah did it, “seeing him who is invisible.”[49] You see, because “faith is … the conviction of things not seen.”[50]

And we could go on. But we don’t need to go on. You see, because the unbeliever doesn’t see. That’s why we sing in the hymn “Holy, Holy, Holy,” “Though the eye of sinful man thy glory may not see.”[51] You see, the unbeliever is like a blind man who refuses to believe that there’s such a thing as light, because he’s never seen it: “I don’t believe there’s light. I’ve never seen such a thing.” Well, the fact that you don’t believe it doesn’t call in question the reality of it. It just means you’ve never seen it. And the reason you’ve never seen it is because you’re blind. But God opens blind eyes. God softens hard hearts. God provides men and women with the ability, whatever their background—scientific, artistic, whatever it is—for a denouement to take place and for, if you like, a light to go on and, against even their own inclinations, to say, “Goodness gracious! I think I’ve begun to see this.” This is faith! This is Christian faith.

Now, people say to me, my friends say to me, “Wow! I can’t believe you’re involved in that stuff. Why don’t you get in the real world? You know, why don’t you get in the world—the world of the rationalist? Why don’t you enjoy life, you know? And just get rid of that sort of category up there, that supernatural stuff you’re into. Who knows about that? Why don’t you get with us? We know about everything.”

Oh, you do, huh? Okay. Well then, let’s just put it up. We can have a debate. There’s no time now, so we won’t. But okay. You say this is reality; I say it’s absurdity. You say I’m in the realm of absurdity and you’re in the realm of reality. Okay. Let’s just do it pragmatically. All right? I say to you the Christian faith answers the cries of the human heart in a way that a godless philosophy does not. We can’t go through them all, but let me just take one.

Man and women live their lives… I know this. I saw the Super Bowl. I read the newspaper. I see it. I have friends. I look around. Men and women are in search of meaning. They’re in search of peace. They’re in search of security. They’re in search of significance. They are trying to make sense of this weary struggle from birth to death—understandably so. Don’t want to hear anything about God, who made the universe. Don’t want to hear anything about Jesus. Don’t want to hear anything about the Bible. They want to live “in the real world.” How’s it working? Jesus answers the cry for meaning.

Sartre, the great existentialist—I can imagine him sitting in one of the cafés in Paris, and he looks at one of his friends, and he says, “You know, here we are having another meal, eating and drinking to preserve our precious existence. And there is nothing—nothing—absolutely no reason for our existence. Have a good day!” Doesn’t work. Jesus says, “I’ve come that you might have life and that you might have it in all of its fullness.”[52]

The search for love. Jesus says to the woman at the well, “Why don’t you go call your husband?” She says, “I don’t have a husband.” He says, “Well, I know.” He says, “In fact, I know you’ve had five men, and you’re living with a guy now. Honey, aren’t you just looking for love in all the wrong places? Do you think there’s a person on the face of this earth that can satisfy the longing of your heart in relationship to these things? There is. You’re looking at him. I’m the Messiah.”[53]

The cry for freedom. For freedom. I watched two musical documentaries that depressed me horribly in the last eight days: one, the documentary on Harry Nilsson (“I can’t live if living is without you”;[54] that guy), which is a sad, sad story; and my girl Janis Joplin, epitomized by the screeching sounds, wonderfully rendered, of Kristofferson’s song, “Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose. And freedom ain’t worth nothin’, but it’s free.”[55]

If ever there was a picture of a girl that knew nothing about freedom, it’s got to be Janis. She was trapped in her own designs and desires to break free from everything, without ever having discovered that Jesus says, “You[’ll] know the truth, and the truth will [make] you free.”[56]

Where can a person go to find forgiveness? Christianity answers the cry for forgiveness.

I finish with this. David Watson, who was an amazing evangelist… He was an Anglican minister in the ’60s—’50s, ’60s. I had the privilege to hear him preach when I was a student myself. He was the best evangelistic preacher I’ve ever heard in my life. And he did lots of university missions. He was always engaged with… He was a clever man. He was a Cambridge guy, and he could handle these folks, but he was simple enough for a child to understand.

And he records how at one of the university missions, as he’s preaching, as he’s looking out in the group, there’s one girl’s face that just stands out. And it stands out because she just obviously doesn’t like what he’s saying, and she’s sort of rebellious. And actually, she’s smoking. (Those were the good old days.) And he finishes his talk, and he encourages people to embrace Jesus as a Savior and a King, and he leads them in a prayer. And it ends, and people begin to leave, and who comes forward but this girl? She’s still smoking. And he said she just looked so hard and so empty. And she comes up to him, and she says, “Mr. Watson, I listened. I heard what you said. I believe it. I’ll be back tomorrow.” And she walked away. And Watson says in his book, “As she walked away, I said to myself, ‘We’ll see.’”

He describes how the following evening, at the end of his talk, she comes back. She is so visibly different that he doesn’t even recognize her. Her face has changed. She says, “So, Mr. Watson, since last evening, I have cried for virtually twenty-four hours.” She says, “Because you see, behind all of my toughness, behind all of my bravado,” she said, “for years I have felt as guilty as hell. And it never once occurred to me that Jesus loved me, that he died for me, and that he will save me. And when you told me that last night, that brought about the change that changes everything.”[57]

This, you see, is the faith in which the believers are united. Is it your faith? It may be.

Let us pray:

God our Father, thank you that your Word says that you are able to save to the uttermost all who come to God through Jesus.[58] You save us from the uttermost and to the uttermost. Only you can do this. So I pray, Lord, that you’ll help us to think these issues out. For those of us who believe that this kind of thing is just a leap into oblivion, help us to think it out. For some of us who are toying with these things, help us, Lord, so to take our stand and to rest in you. Save us, Lord, from Pliable and from Obstinate, from Timorous, from Mistrust, from Mr. Worldly Wiseman—from all those characters along the pathway, the narrow pathway that leads to that Wicket Gate, to that yonder shining light, to that heavenly home. Thank you that you’ve given us the Bible so that we can read it—so that we can actually go away and see, “Well, let’s see if what he said is actually in there”; that “your word is … fixed in the heavens.”[59] We take our stand here. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

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[1] Ephesians 4:4 (ESV).

[2] Ephesians 4:6 (ESV).

[3] Ephesians 4:4 (ESV).

[4] The Westminster Confession of Faith, Modern English Study Version, 14.1.

[5] Romans 10:14–15, 17 (ESV).

[6] See Ephesians 2:11–14.

[7] Psalm 22:1 (ESV).

[8] Psalm 22:22 (paraphrased).

[9] See Hebrews 2:12.

[10] 1 Corinthians 15:8 (paraphrased).

[11] William Greenhill, An Exposition of the Prophet Ezekiel, with Useful Observations Thereupon (London, 1837), v.

[12] 1 Corinthians 15:1 (ESV).

[13] 1 Corinthians 2:1–5 (paraphrased).

[14] 1 Corinthians 1:21, 25 (paraphrased).

[15] 1 Corinthians 15:3 (ESV).

[16] Romans 3:23–24 (ESV).

[17] 1 Corinthians 15:3, 4 (ESV).

[18] Isaiah 53:4–5 (ESV).

[19] See Romans 1:25.

[20] See Romans 1:23.

[21] See 1 Corinthians 15:3–5.

[22] 1 Corinthians 15:11 (ESV).

[23] 1 Corinthians 15:1 (ESV).

[24] 1 Corinthians 15:1 (paraphrased).

[25] Eliza E. Hewitt, “My Faith Has Found a Resting Place” (1890).

[26] Hewitt. Paraphrased.

[27] 2 Corinthians 5:17 (paraphrased).

[28] 1 Corinthians 15:2 (ESV).

[29] Matthew 7:22–23 (paraphrased).

[30] See Matthew 7:24–27 (paraphrased).

[31] Hebrews 3:14 (paraphrased).

[32] See Matthew 13:1–9.

[33] See Matthew 13:18–23.

[34] Hebrews 3:14 (ESV).

[35] Hebrews 3:12 (NIV).

[36] Robert Robinson, “Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing” (1758).

[37] Isaac Watts, “Am I a Soldier of the Cross?” (1724).

[38] John Bunyan, The Pilgrim’s Progress (1678). Paraphrased.

[39] 1 John 2:19 (ESV).

[40] Bunyan, Pilgrim’s Progress. Paraphrased.

[41] John Newton, “Amazing Grace” (1779).

[42] Hebrews 11:2 (NASB 1995).

[43] See Hebrews 11:25.

[44] See Hebrews 11:10. This passage, however, references Abraham, not Moses.

[45] Hebrews 11:26 (ESV).

[46] See Daniel 3:1–30.

[47] Hebrews 11:27 (ESV).

[48] See Genesis 6:13–21.

[49] Hebrews 11:27 (ESV).

[50] Hebrews 11:1 (ESV).

[51] Reginald Heber, “Holy, Holy, Holy” (1826).

[52] John 10:10 (paraphrased).

[53] John 4:16–18, 26 (paraphrased).

[54] Harry Nilsson, “Without You” (1971).

[55] Kris Kristofferson, “Me and Bobby McGee” (1969). Lyrics lightly altered.

[56] John 8:32 (ESV).

[57] Through the Year with David Watson: Devotional Readings for Every Day, ed. Jean Watson (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1982), 308. Paraphrased.

[58] See Hebrews 7:25.

[59] Psalm 119:89 (ESV).