Episode 308: You've Heard It Said... | Mike Massey

Introduction

Good morning, Church of the Holy Spirit. If I've not had the privilege or pleasure of meeting you, my name is Mike Massey. We've been a part of this family since 1994. That is crazy, crazy, crazy. Such a privilege to be with you guys. A place that speaks the word of God, stands on truth.

So a number of years ago, and I've been on many, many mission trips over the years. We take groups a lot—50 some plus mission trips over the years. And I don't say that with pride or arrogance, you see things all around the world when you go to all these different places.

And there were a number of years ago, right before COVID, that we were in Guatemala doing a fresh water dig or well dig for a village, a remote village in Guatemala. Our team was there excited all week long to unveil this well. The people in this village had only had stagnant putrid water for years. Finally, they would get fresh water and no longer have disease and all the stuff that comes with the putrid water they were getting.

And on the day of the unveiling, we were so excited with our expectations of how they would respond. But what surprised us was, they hated the water. It disgusted them. They were so used to the putrid stagnant water that the fresh water was disgusting.

Isn't that true about us? Oftentimes, when we're given truth, we don't understand how fresh and freeing and liberating it is, and we find it putrid and disgusting. It takes time sometimes, if ever—some of those villagers never started drinking the fresh water. What a shame.

That is much like when Jesus preached the Sermon on the Mount in chapters five through seven of Matthew. He brings this fresh water. He takes the belief system that the people had back then and maybe still have today—that to be a law-abiding good person, they flip it all upside down. Everything they had known, he flips it all on its head throughout the Sermon on the Mount.

And he does it in these passages in chapter five by saying things like, "You've heard it said, but I say to you," "You've heard it said this, but I am telling you a different way." I have a new way. Something that disrupts your thinking.

He said this regarding anger, lust, divorce, oaths, retaliation, and loving your enemies. For instance, you believed your whole life that all you had to do was not commit murder, and you're in the clear, you're okay. But I'm telling you, if you have anger in your heart towards someone, I'm raising the standard—that you've now committed murder in your heart and you are facing judgment. You're a murderer.

Then he says things like, "You've always heard that, as long as you don't commit adultery physically with somebody, you're good. But I am here to tell you that's not true. If you simply have lust in your heart with somebody, then you're an adulterer."

That draws a crowd, doesn't it? Then he says, "Hey, I told you before, you heard before that it's okay to hate your enemies as long as you love your neighbors, but I'm telling you, no, no longer. You not only have to love your enemies, you gotta pray for those who persecute you."

And he closes the whole teaching by saying, "You therefore must be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect." What a standard. It's impossible. What did they do with that? What do we do with that?

The Gospel of Righteousness

See, it would be really easy at this point for me to focus on your bad behavior, not mine—because I'm good. On your bad behavior and talk about your sin. I'm going to channel my inner Baptist Pentecostal holiness minister—your sin.

Nobody ever heard a pastor like that? Come on. And we could all slump our shoulders and think, "Oh, he hit me over the head with the holy two-by-four." It feels so good—the power of sin to destroy, and it separates us from God. You are dirty, rotten sinners.

You guys didn't go to the church I went to growing up, did you? And here's the thing—we actually are more comfortable with that. We're at ease talking about our sin, our struggle. It feels so holy and pious.

We walk in the door on a Sunday morning and someone says, "How you doing, Quig?" "Oh, let go and let God. I'm struggling; my sin has overtaken me."

Listen, listen—I’m not suggesting, we Christians, we often love to give lots and lots of attention to sin. We love to focus on that. And I’m not suggesting there are not times to talk about sin or address behaviors.

I'm an attorney. I do that all day long with everybody. Like, there are times for that, but our behaviors will never change if our focus is on our sin. Never happen. The cure is righteousness.

I'd prefer to talk about righteousness. See, righteousness should get all of our focus—every day, all day. We will only be transformed, and our behaviors will only begin to change to the degree that we receive, believe, and stand in the righteousness we have because of Jesus Christ.

That's so exciting, isn't it? I can't even stand it. You've just spoken words of life. Righteousness—it doesn’t get depressed like sin does. And yet, it alone holds all the power of transformation and freedom.

What is Righteousness?

What is righteousness? We talk about it. We read about it. But what really is righteousness?

Righteousness means right before God or right standing before God.

Sin is not the point of the gospel. It's rightness with God. Righteousness is the whole point. It's the point of the cross, the blood, the covenant, eternity, creation—it's the whole point.

And it isn't just that we've been rescued from our sin—that’s part of it. But we've been rescued into and set free into rightness with God.

And yet, it’s probably one of the points believers struggle with the most—on an ongoing basis—because we give so much power to sin.

Let this truth sink in—I'm going to say it again and again. It’s not just theory, but a reality:

You have been made right with God. End of story.

I could stop right now—that’s it. Anyone who is in Christ Jesus is a new creation. The old has passed away; the new has come. You forever have an unchangeable position of rightness before God—not because of your deeds or behaviors, but because of Jesus Christ. You cannot lose it because of your bad behaviors.

Most believers live thinking every day is a struggle to just stay out of the courtroom. Think about that. One day I do well, I don’t get called before the judge. The next day I act poorly, and I get called to account for my sin and punished.

We’ve convinced ourselves that it’s a good day if I can just get through it without standing in the courtroom. The judge sits with crossed arms and a scowl, gavel ready to punish.

That’s not righteousness. That’s not truth. Righteousness means we never stepped foot in the courtroom to begin with, and we never did.

The Deception of the Judgment Seat

For the longest time—maybe this resonates with you, maybe it was my upbringing—I believed that God couldn’t stand to look at me unless it was through the blood of Jesus.

It was like I was covered by a blanket of blood. But what if my foot popped out? What if he saw my foot? I was no longer covered by the blood. It was as if I believed I was behind a massive cutout of Jesus, and God only saw me because he saw Jesus.

I thought I was approved because he saw the cutout, but he didn’t see me—he just saw Jesus. Our job was to get more and more people behind that cutout. But what happens when it starts getting crowded back there? And then I get squeezed out?

Oh, he sees me. This doesn’t resonate? I feel like I’m such a fool up here and you guys are thinking, “Oh, yeah. Cool.”

But sincerely—I honestly believed that. I thought it was humble and holy. But it was the opposite of humility and holiness.

I did this because I had it drilled into my head that I was basically a criminal, bouncing back and forth before the judge. As long as we believe we’re a criminal—back and forth, in and out of the courtroom—we will never walk in freedom. Ever.

Like me, many believers—many followers of Jesus—have convinced themselves this is holiness. But it is not. No matter how holy it feels, it is the opposite of holiness.

The Love of the Father

This last week, my daughter Rachel and her husband Will had my first grandbaby—Mason Tiller Urban. It’s really cool because they believe the Lord gave them that name—that he would be a builder and a planter in urban places.

There's nothing like it. People tell me, but there’s nothing like it. My wife of twenty-nine years worked long and hard to decide what she’d be called. She refuses to be granny, grandma—or anything like that. She's Shuggs, Shugz. The kids call her Shugz now, and it’s really taking.

And what’s more exciting is my name. It’s gonna be Mav—Maverick.

Next picture, please.

There we go—Mav. Yes.

Haters can hate, hate, hate. As Taylor Swift says, you can hate as much as you want, I’m gonna be Mav. I’m not above bribery or anything I gotta do to get my grandbabies to call me Mav.

Want the sucker, son? What's my name?

My daughter and son-in-law owe me some money—never gonna make them pay it back, but as long as they get that kid to call me Mav, we’re good.

Can you imagine? Can you imagine Will, my son-in-law, holding Mason in his arms this week, looking at him and saying, “You’re such a dirty, rotten sinner, you piece of garbage. Look at you. You’re so far away from me. You can’t call me papa until you earn it.”

Or, can you imagine Mason looking up and saying, “Daddy, I’m a piece of garbage. I’m just so sorry I was born.”

That’s ridiculous. But that’s how ridiculous we are when we try to earn our way into the family of God and think that our behavior can earn us or take away our position—that we never could earn. It’s all the work of the cross, and it is finished.

Righteousness and The Real You

Righteousness means that we have forever been transformed. We are no longer criminals in the courtroom with a judge. We are now family. Sons and daughters in the living room, being held by our Father.

And because of righteousness, I forever stand in right relationship with my Abba. He sees me—not the cutout, not some blanket of blood, not rose-colored glasses. He sees me. He says, "He is mine, and he has right standing with me."

Wow.

Righteousness takes you out of the courtroom and puts you in the living room. Now you stand in right relationship.

Maybe I’ve done something to grieve his heart, or maybe my decisions have grieved him. Or I’ve run away, stopped engaging with him, or engaged in behavior quenching the Spirit. Or like the prodigal son, I’m in a pig pen of my own making, facing the consequences—not punishment, but the natural consequences of my choices.

But that never changes the reality—I stand in the living room with my loving Father in righteousness. I can never lose that.

Righteousness puts me in the living room. Deception—lies—puts me back in the courtroom.

Think of the deception of the prodigal son in that pig pen. He said to himself, “I’m not worthy to be a son. Surely, if I go back, he’ll take me like a servant. Surely, I’ll be in the basement or the outhouse.”

But he was wrong. The father was watching. When he saw him far off, he ran and embraced him. Gave him the robe, the shoes, the ring, killed the fatted calf, and had a dance party.

That is righteousness. The son had right standing—not because of his worth, but simply because of his birth.

And so when Jesus says at the end of Matthew 5, "You therefore must be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect," he is referring to righteousness. He’s saying it's impossible for you to be good enough. It’s impossible—you might as well not try, it’s a waste of time. But I can make you perfect. Do you trust me? It’s called grace.

The Power of Grace

It’s called grace. We’ve sung about it this morning. Mercy and grace—going hand in hand.

Mercy is not getting what you do deserve.
Grace is getting so much more than you could think or imagine, more than you could deserve.

To illustrate, I think I have to give a horrific example to shock our consciousness. It’s a metaphor. Mercy, that someone takes my entire family—my new grandbaby, my daughter and my sons and their spouses—and murders them. Drag them behind cars and burn them in the streets.

Mercy would be that I don’t destroy them in return and kill them. And not only do I not kill and forgive, I invite them into my home.

I give them the best room in the palace, access to everything I own, my bank accounts, the dinner table. I adopt them as my children, and I call them son or daughter. They get access to me all the time and an inheritance—an equal stake in what I leave behind.

That’s grace. And that is what will transform us—to the degree that we understand, receive, and believe it.

Remember, Quig said this a couple weeks ago:

It’s His kindness that leads us to repentance.

It’s not our good deeds, our groveling. No. It’s His kindness.

And repentance isn’t just turning from sin. It’s something we stay in all day, every day—running to the Father, whether we’ve done good or bad. We live in a posture of, “You made me right with you, and I run to you.”

Closing Challenge

Why do I tell you this? Why do I harp on this this morning? Because I think many of us are living in one or two places often.

Either we’re striving so hard to make ourselves approved or good enough to be accepted by the Father. As Paul asked in Galatians, "Who has bewitched you—having begun in the Spirit? Do you think you can be perfected by the flesh?"

Or we’re living in despair, thinking we’re cut off from God because of our behavior—believing we’ve been too bad, too dirty.

In reality, both forget our name, calling, and position in the family:

We did not—and could not—earn it.

The story of Mary Magdalene, as depicted in The Chosen, illustrates this perfectly. She’s called Lilith—"demon" or "belonging to the night"—locked in bondage, believing there’s no way out. She meets Jesus, who calls her by her real name:

Fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name. You are mine.

Dare not to be moved by that.

As the praise team comes up—and we sing "Reckless Love"—not to manipulate, but to worship—if you want to come forward or stay seated, stand, or kneel, do so.

Ridge will be open for prayer or to come to the side rails. The Lord does not look at you and see a "dirty, rotten sinner."

In spite of everything—what we’ve done, what we haven't—he looks at us and says, "I have called you by name. I have redeemed you. You are mine."

I challenge you to see scripture this way: imagine the Father looking at Mason. See how he sees you too. And whenever we see how he sees us, the focus shifts from us back to him.

He’s the Redeemer, the Deliverer, the Rescuer. He has made us right in his sight. Doing so will transform your behavior.

If you want to change behaviors, focus on Jesus. Meet Jesus, and behaviors will line up.

I believe in speaking truths over yourself daily. I bought my family a sheep rug. They all have it by their bed. When I get up, I say, "Lord, I am your sheep; you are my good shepherd." I quote Ephesians 2:1-10 over myself every morning because I need to.

And you were dead in your trespasses. You were dead to sin. You were by nature an object of wrath. You followed the course of the world and the prince of the air. But God—>

Because of God's mercy and grace, he has made me alive in Christ Jesus. He has seated me with him in heavenly places. He has saved me by grace through faith. I cannot boast. All of this is because of his kindness—to all generations and beyond.

He takes it further—says I am his workmanship, his poema, his work of art, created to do good works.

That’s my confession of faith: I have right standing with God. It’s the most humble and holy thing I can do. My behavior will follow that posture.

Conclusion

Jesus says, “You've heard it said that you’re a dirty, rotten sinner and you must prove your worth. But I say to you, I love you—you're forever righteous, and you're mine.”

Will you stand with me?

Lord, as we worship and sing about your reckless love—which we know isn’t reckless, but it feels so reckless—your grace and righteousness, we lift our hands in humility, declaring, “I am your beloved child, and you call me righteous.”

Because of you, I stand in right relationship, seated with you in heavenly places. I will live like that.

Thank you, Jesus.