Episode 285: Faith That Blows God Away! | Mike Massey

Introduction

Good morning, Holy Spirit. I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Mike Massey. I am the father of Cole and Emily Massey. That's my claim to fame here. No longer do I have my own stake here. It’s the father of them.

So, hey, guys. Did you know that you can wow God? Did you know it’s possible for you to blow God away and surprise Him? Did you know that you can astonish Him, that you can blow Him away, that you can even amaze Him? But did you know that the way that you and I can amaze or astonish or surprise God is not by our good deeds, it’s not by our good behavior, it’s not by our church attendance, or by our quiet times, although those are great things and we should do them. No, did you know that the way you can amaze, astonish, or surprise God is by your faith?

The way that you can blow Him away is by your faith. Did you know that there were two times in scripture that Jesus got wowed, amazed, surprised, or blown away? Now Jesus was fully God, but He was also fully man. I think often when we look at the life of Jesus, we focus on Him as the God part, which then means we're not held accountable to all the things that He did when He walked on this earth as a man—limited Himself to no longer be God on this earth but to be a man.

You see, Jesus did what He did—walked on water, raised the dead, healed the deaf, the blind, the leper—all as a man in a right relationship with God, surrendered fully to Him, fully surrendered, fully in love with His heavenly Father. He did all of that, and if He was a man doing what He did in right relationship to God, then we can't discount what He did as impossible for us or beyond our reach. It holds us accountable to live in risk and live lives of great faith just like Jesus did.

See, if we believe that He did everything that He did on this earth only as God, then it discounts scripture when Jesus says, you will do even greater things than I have done, which I don't comprehend. But if He said it, then it's true.

Jesus’ Moments of Marvel

There were two times in Jesus’ life on earth that Jesus, the man, and Jesus, the God, marveled, or He was wowed, or He was surprised, or blown away. The word marveled in Greek means to marvel, be astonished, wowed, amazed—literally, as I’ve said ten times now—be blown away.

The first of the two times was what we just read about in Mark chapter six, when Jesus went back to His hometown in Nazareth. It says He goes there after having done miraculous things, and when He starts reading in the synagogue, the people themselves are astonished. They are amazed. They say, wow, who is this? This reading with such authority, speaking with such authority. But then it says they start to go, isn’t this Jesus, the son of Joseph and Mary, the carpenter’s son? And it says they took offense at Him.

And then it says, as you read, He could do no mighty work there, and Jesus marveled, was wowed, was blown away and surprised at their unbelief. The word offense there in Greek means trap or trap snare—literally expectations that create a trap. A trap snare was a stick with a prong and a box went down in the prong, with a string on the end of it. The trap snare was set to lure an animal, with food underneath the box. When the animal approached, the string was pulled, the box dropped, trapping the animal. The animal expects to get something, but doesn’t, and gets trapped. That was the word offense.

That same word was used by Jesus in Luke chapter seven, when John the Baptist sends his disciples to Jesus because John is in prison. He was supposed to be Jesus’ right hand man, the precursor to the Christ. And so, maybe in his mind, he’s thinking, where’s the throne going to be? Why am I here in jail? What are you doing, Jesus? Aren’t you going to get rid of Rome? Aren’t we going to have the throne of David restored, that you're going to sit on here on earth forever and ever? And now I’m going to be killed?

He sends his disciples to Jesus to ask, hey, are you the one? This is John the Baptist who saw Jesus baptized and heaven open up. He’s sitting in prison, doubting because of expectations. And he asks, are you the one? The disciples get to Jesus, and Jesus doesn’t answer right away. He begins to heal people for a couple of hours. Then He turns back to John’s disciples and says, go tell John what you’ve seen and heard: the deaf hear, the lame walk, the blind see. And He adds, blessed are you, John, when you don’t fall away, when you don’t take offense on account of me.

Jesus was saying, “Don’t let your expectations of who I am, or how I’m going to move, or what I will do—and the order I will do it—trap you, John.”

The next time Jesus got wowed was in Matthew chapter eight, with the story of the centurion. Jesus was in Capernaum, walking along, and this centurion—a Roman soldier, a non-believer, a non-Israelite—approaches Jesus. He appeals to Jesus to heal his male servant at home. Jesus says, sure, I’ll come with you. The centurion responds, no, no, don’t bother. I like you, I’m a man under authority. I have people under my authority, and all I have to do is speak a command: do this, do that, and it will be done.

He says, Jesus, you are that man on this earth. All you have to do is say the word, and it’s done. And Jesus says, wow. He marveled, He was surprised, He was blown away. It says that Jesus told the crowd, never have I seen faith in all of Israel like that—and this non-Israelite gets it. Jesus was wowed by faith in both instances: once by unbelief created by wrong expectations, and once by a belief that came from simple faith.

What is Faith?

So it begs the question: what is faith? What is the kind of faith that wows Jesus? And no condemnation, only invitation. Please, if you hear nothing else today: does my faith—does your faith—wow God? Does it take Him off guard?

Let’s unpack it. What is faith? In Mark chapter 10, there’s the story of the rich young ruler. We don’t know if he was rich or young; that’s what the caption was later added by man. But the implication is that he was both. In the story, this young man approaches Jesus, runs up, and kneels before Him. He asks, good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?

Can you hear the cynicism, maybe expectation, maybe anticipation, expectancy, maybe some excitement or doubt? We don’t know. But maybe just in his question, you can hear, “Tell me the rules. Give me the one, two, three steps. Tell me what I need to do to get what I want.” Give me the boundaries, Jesus.

Religion teaches rules and methods to create boundaries to get God to do what we want Him to do. But Jesus, every time He steps into our lives and speaks, aims to create freedom. He sees a man knelt down, bound up in religion.

Then Jesus asks a simple but powerful question to create freedom: "Why do you call me good? Only God alone is good." I think Jesus was saying, “Let’s set aside the rules for a moment. Let’s set aside expectations, methods, boundaries.” He asks, “Do you believe I am God?”

And if you believe I am God, do you really believe I am good? You see, young man, you’re following the rules, following the commandments, doing all the stuff, but you’re not free. You’re bound in religion. But if you believe I’m God, and if you truly believe I am good, then your stuff won’t matter. You’ll hold it out to me freely because you know I am God, and you believe I am good.

There it is: a simple, beautiful, fascinating faith that pleases and wows God. The question is: in our simple faith, do I trust—do we really trust—that God is God? Not just theology, but do I truly trust? And then, will I take the next step to believe that God is not only God, but He is really good—and He’s good toward me?

If we’re honest, the answer “no” leads to fear, and “yes” leads to faith. Fear questions, “What if?” “What if this happens?” “What if that happens?” But faith says, “Even if.” There’s a lot of “if”s, but only one “even if.”

It’s like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, standing before the fiery furnace. They tell Nebuchadnezzar, “We will not bow down because our God will rescue us. But even if he doesn’t, we will not bow to fear because our God is God and He is good.”

Is God good because we declare it? Or do we declare it because we know and believe He is good?

If you don’t hear anything else today: remember, God does not withhold from you because you’re bad. God does not give to you because you’re overly good. God acts because He is God and He is good, based on the completed work of Jesus Christ on the cross—who conquered death, rose from the grave, and sits with the Father now forever.

Isn’t it all marked by love? Love and faith respond to love. He took a risk. He left heaven’s comforts, walked this earth as a man, and loved you and I. Faith is simple: no matter what, I trust you, Father—that you are God and you are good.

Now, I said faith is simple; I didn’t say it was easy. Hebrews 11 gives us a definition. Hebrews 11:1 says:

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.

And Hebrews 11:6 adds:

Without faith it is impossible to please God; for whoever would draw near to God must believe that He exists—and that He rewards those who seek Him.

That’s faith that pleases God. Let’s break that down.

The Greek word for faith is pistis or pistos. It means to come into agreement with a thing that’s already true, or to believe a thing that’s already true. My belief doesn’t make it true; it’s true. The question is: will I believe it?

Or, put another way, it’s to come into agreement with a reality that’s always been true, is true, and will be true. The question is: will I come into agreement with that reality?

I’ve used the example before: flat earth versus round earth. When they believed the earth was flat, it didn’t mean the earth was flat. The moment they realized it was round—our ships not falling off the edge—it didn’t mean the world suddenly became round. It always was. They finally came into agreement with that reality. That’s faith.

So, what is it that God wants us to come into agreement with? That is, was, and will always be true—regardless of what we believe or don’t believe. He’s asking us to believe it. It’s found in the word hope.

Hebrews 11:1 explains:

The word hope means the joyful anticipation of something good—or, literally, the joyful expectancy of complete and total goodness.

Faith is trusting that, in every circumstance, God is God and He is good—always good—regardless of circumstances, regardless of what we see or don’t see. Because He is good, we can come to Him freely, and He responds because He loves you and me.

And here’s the kicker: God defines the word goodness. Goodness doesn’t define God. We need to change our lens.

The great men and women of faith understood this. Hebrews 11:13 says:

These all died in faith, not having received what was promised, but having seen it from afar because they understood they were strangers in a foreign land.

And Hebrews 11:16 states:

They desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God, and He has prepared for them a holy city.

The word desire means to be fascinated by, or irresistibly attracted to. Faith says: I will remain fascinated by Jesus, despite what I see or don’t see. I will stay in this posture always because He is God and He is good.

Living by Faith

Faith is not about manipulating God to move in my favor. It’s not a power source. Faith is about submitting to God, trusting He is God, trusting He is good, in every circumstance. Then, living through that lens of His goodness.

Second Corinthians 5:7 says:

For we walk by faith, not by sight.

That doesn’t mean we’re blind; it means we have a different kind of vision. We see that God is God and that He is good. Because of that, we will do whatever He asks, go wherever He leads, because we trust Him. We are willing to risk it for Him.

Living with this faith invites us into risks, sometimes foolishness or perceived failure. But from God’s perspective, it’s faith that wows Him.

And let’s be honest: Western Christianity can tell a good story about faith but often forget to live it. If we believe God is God and He is good, then we will risk and live like it. We will step out on the brink. We will live not just as theology but as a reality.

Remember Peter walking on water in Matthew 14? Of course you do. It could have been titled that—Peter walks on water.

Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of Him to the other side, while He dismissed the crowd. After He had dismissed them, He went up on a mountainside by Himself to pray. Later that night, He was there alone, and the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.

They’re trying desperately to get across and can’t, the storm rages. It was around three a.m., the third watch of the night.

Then Jesus decides to walk on the water, and we’ve heard the story so many times. I wonder: was He close enough that they could recognize Him? Was He 50 yards away? 100 yards? I don’t know. But they saw Him and started screaming, “It’s a ghost!”

Jesus then calls out, “Don't be afraid, it’s me.”

And then Peter does something remarkable. He says, “If you really are Jesus, command me to come to you on the water.”

I wonder, was Jesus crying out, “Are you sure? Do you really believe I am God? Do you believe I am good?” But He responds, “Come.”

And Peter gets out of the boat. He focuses on Jesus, and begins to walk. We don’t know if he runs or walks—probably walks. But he gets all the way to Jesus.

As he approaches Jesus, he looks around. Oh my goodness—look at the storm. The wind. The waves.

He begins to sink, and he cries out, “Jesus, rescue me!”

Jesus immediately reaches down and grabs him. The voice of Jesus then speaks:

“You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

How do you hear that voice? Most of us hear, “You idiot! You fool! Why did you doubt?”

But I wonder: does that voice draw us closer or push us away? When we step out in faith and seemingly fail, sink, or fall, do we hear condemnation or compassion?

When they get back in the boat, they worship. They worship because they saw and heard love—unfathomable, unconditional love.

Is that your response? Worship when you feel scolded and chastised? Or do you worship knowing that it's love?

Think about Peter again. What if Jesus is looking at him, saying, “Peter, you had enough faith. You had what you needed. You didn’t have to look around or doubt—you had it. Well done. You nearly had it. Come on, do it again.”

I believe Jesus was applauding Peter, not scolding him. Faith that wows God takes risks repeatedly and then worships—even after sinking or belly-flopping.

We risk because we know we’re loved. He loved us first and risked it all.

If we trust that He is God—and that He is good—despite what we see or feel or think—we start doing backflips, even when there’s a real risk of belly flop, and He applauds.

Personal Reflection and Invitation

I was going to tell you a story about something that happened a couple of months ago, but I think it would distract from Jesus. So I won’t. But here’s the point:

If you’re waiting for God to call you out of the boat, you’ll keep waiting. If you’re waiting for Him to say, “Come,” then you’ll keep waiting.

But if you believe God is God, and He is good, and you ask Him, “Jesus, command me to come,” even if you’re terrified, He will say, “Come.” And you’ll start to walk. You might sink, belly-flop, or fall, but then He claps—slowly, intentionally, with love. No condemnation—only invitation.

Does your faith or lack of faith inhibit God from moving in your circumstances? Is it because of misplaced expectations? Or does your faith cause God to applaud?

I pray we are men and women of real faith—not just theology, but a living, breathing, risk-taking faith. You are loved, and God is good. Not just some of the time—every time. We need to change our lens.

I remember skiing in Utah this last January. I had these cool magnetic goggles. All day, it snowed—about 27 inches that week. I complained to myself about the goggles—no lenses available, frustrating. Later that evening, I looked at the lens I had left in the room—the low-light lens that helps see in snow. I’d been skiing all day with the wrong lenses.

And the Lord whispered, as I felt a fool, “Mike, you just need to change your lens.” Change your lens—see through the lens of My goodness in every circumstance.

If you’re here today and feeling led, the altar calls can just be that—an opportunity, no pressure. But wow—if we realize we serve a God who risked everything for us in Jesus, will we risk it back for Him? Will our faith wow Him? Because He is God—and He is good.

Closing Prayer

Lord, we love You. We trust You. We thank You that, despite what we feel or see, You are God—and You are good. We want to be men and women of great faith—faith like the greats of the faith, not just theology but a reality.

Today would be a marker, Lord—whether we step forward to this altar, step out on the water, or remain where we are—may this be a moment where we declare You are God and You are good. And we will live lives of risk because You risked for us. Because You loved us first, we will love You back, and we want to wow You with our faith. Amen.