First Baptist Church Litchfield
May 17, 2026

      • Isaiah 45:7–9ESV

  • Doxology (God Be Praised)
  • Yet Not I But Through Christ In Me

      • Ephesians 1:11–14ESV

  • Abide
  • 'Tis So Sweet To Trust In Jesus (Trust In Jesus)
  • Blessed Assurance

  • Where Is Your Faith Actually Resting?

    There is a particular kind of confidence that looks like faith but is not. It is the confidence of the man who has seen God work before, who knows the right words, who has the right experience, and who shows up to the next challenge assuming that what worked before will work again. He is not consciously rejecting God. He is simply no longer consciously depending on Him.
    We see this all around us, and if we are honest, we see it in ourselves.
    Think about the athlete who has trained for years, who has won before, who steps onto the field and finds that preparation alone is not enough. Or the surgeon who has performed the same procedure hundreds of times, whose hands move with precision and confidence, until the day they do not. Or the soldier who has survived every battle, who begins to believe that experience has made him untouchable, until the moment it has not.

    Competence can quietly become a substitute for dependence.

    This is not a problem of misplaced confidence. At its heart a problem of faith. And it is the problem Jesus exposes in Matthew 17.
    He has just come down from the mount of transfiguration, where three of His disciples witnessed His glory, heard the voice of the Father, and fell on their faces before Him. It was the clearest revelation of who Jesus is that any of them had yet seen. And now He steps back into the ordinary world, where a desperate father is waiting, his son is suffering, and the disciples who should have helped him have failed completely.
    They were given His authority. They had the experience casting out demons. They had seen Jesus work. And none of it was enough, because somewhere along the way they had stopped depending on Christ and started depending on what Christ had previously done through them. Their faith had turned inward. And inward faith is weak faith.
    That is the thread running through Matthew 17:14–27. Faith fails when it trusts in itself. Faith grows when it depends on the power of God. And when your faith fails, you can trust the Son who never does.
    This morning we are going to walk through this passage and ask a straightforward question:

    Where is your faith actually resting?

    Not where you believe it should rest, or where it rested last Sunday, but where it is resting right now, in this moment, in the challenges you carried through the door this morning.
    Jesus has something to say to every one of us who has ever confused experience with dependence, who has ever mistaken familiarity with Christ for genuine trust in Christ. And He offers us a gentle rebuke with hope. It is a rebuke that leads us straight back to Himself, which is exactly where He has always wanted us to be.
    In this passage,

    Jesus shows us why your faith fails, how your faith grows, and where your faith must ultimately rest.

    Faith Fails When It Trusts in Itself Rather Than Christ (17:14–18)

    John Calvin wisely tends to our souls when he writes,

    "So long as we look at ourselves, we cannot but despair; but when we look to Christ, we are at peace." John Calvin

    That word captures the heart of what Jesus exposes in this passage.
    He comes down from the mountain and steps immediately into a scene of desperation and disorder. A man pushes through the crowd, falls on his knees, and pleads for mercy. His son is suffering terribly, seized without warning, thrown into fire or water, completely overtaken by something he cannot fight and nor can he escape.
    You might be tempted to think the boy is sick. The text is clear: the kingdom of darkness is oppressing the little boy. It is a darkness that has been around oppressing God’s image bearers since the begining. It’s a cosmic and global oppression. It does not devastate only one family, or only really bad families. It oppresses all of us.
    The demonic darkness in our text reveals something true about the human condition. Paul reminds us in Ephesians 6:12 that "we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness." Disease and demonic oppression expose our weakness. We don't just feel powerless; we are powerless. And you see this in all three figures in the passage: the son, the father, and the disciples.
    The boy is powerless to help himself. Whatever the nature of this possession, he is at the mercy of something far stronger than he is. He is the living picture of what Jesus described in John 8:34, that "everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin." He cannot free himself.
    The father is powerless to help his son. You feel his desperation in the way he approaches Jesus, humbly and urgently, as a man out of options. He has likely tried everything. Nothing has worked. Jesus is his last hope. He comes much like the psalmist who cried, "Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord" (Psalm 130:1), a man at the end of himself, looking up.
    And then there are the disciples. They should have been able to help. Jesus had already given them authority to cast out demons (Matthew 10:1). They had seen His power. They had exercised it in their own ministry. But when this moment came, they failed. They were unable, somehow inadequate, and they did not know why.
    Brothers and sisters, powerlessness is not just their story. Powerlessness is the fallen human condition. In our natural strength, we are powerless to rid ourselves of sin, powerless to avoid suffering, powerless to be light in the darkness. Paul confesses this plainly in Romans 7:18, "For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out." We need something greater than ourselves, someone who empowers us and empowers our faith.
    The disciples sensed their need. They came to Jesus privately and asked, "Why could we not cast it out?" (Matthew 17:19). And Jesus gave a direct and sobering answer: "Because of your little faith" (Matthew 17:20).
    They had faith. But their faith looked a great deal like the faith they had in the boat when the storm raged and Jesus slept, the kind of faith that quietly doubted whether He cared or whether He could act. Jesus called it "little faith" there too (Matthew 8:26). Inadequate faith. A poverty of faith. It looked real on the surface, but it lacked the substance required when dark moments in our Genesis 3 world demanded it most.
    Then Jesus pressed deeper: "O faithless and twisted generation" (Matthew 17:17). He may have been addressing the crowd, but the disciples were not exempt from the rebuke. "Faithless" names the root problem. Unbelief had taken hold, the same kind of unbelief that had once limited Jesus' ministry in His own hometown, where "he did not do many mighty works there, because of their unbelief" (Matthew 13:58). "Twisted" names the direction. Their faith had not simply grown weak; it had grown misdirected.
    Somewhere along the way, the disciples had stopped depending on Christ and started relying on themselves.
    It is possible their faith weakened precisely because of their past success. They had cast out demons before, many times. And perhaps in the accumulated experience of those past victories, they stopped seeking Christ's power for the present moment. There is no indication they prayed. There is no desperation in the account, no posture of dependence. Only presumption. Proverbs 3:5,7 warns against exactly this: "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding…it is evil to be wise in your own eyes”
    I confess this from my own experience in ministry. There is a particular arrogance that creeps in quietly, subtle enough that you may not name it, but unmistakable in its fruit. It is the functional belief that the ministry actually happens, that the church actually grows, only when I am present, only when my hands are on it. You know the arrogance has taken hold when you find yourself preaching, counseling, planning, and leading without prayer. Without desperation. Without dependence. Somewhere along the way, you have quietly exchanged the living God for your own ability. Paul warned the Corinthians about this very drift when he said, "Let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall" (1 Corinthians 10:12).
    The Lord Jesus said plainly, "Apart from me, you can do nothing" (John 15:5), and He meant it absolutely. You are tempted to think, “I can do my part and Jesus can do his part.” That is absurd. He said nothing. Maybe you are tempted to think Jesus is speaking more about your potential.” No friend. Jesus said apart from me you can do nothing for the kingdom of God. And yet ministry can be conducted for long stretches with apparent effectiveness while the soul of the shepherd is utterly prayer-less. Pragmatism is not a sign of pastoral strength. It is the diagnostic symptom of a man who has begun to believe in himself more than his Savior. Jeremiah pronounced a curse on exactly this posture: "Cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, whose heart turns away from the Lord" (Jeremiah 17:5). And as it is for the pastor, brothers and sisters, so it is for the sheep.

    Weak faith trusts in itself more than Christ.

    When uncertainty hits, weak faith says you must work this out on your own. When the church faces a hard season, weak faith reaches for strategy, metrics, and methods instead of the mercy of God. At the heart of weak faith is pride, and pride turns faith inward. Pride makes you believe you can manage the power of God. Pride assumes control rather than expressing dependence. Scripture is unsparing on this point: "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble" (James 4:6).
    Mark's Gospel gives us further insight into the situation with the boy. Jesus says, "This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer" (Mark 9:29). Why didn’t the disciples pray?
    Prayer exposes our dependence. Prayer confesses our inability. Paul echoes this when he writes, "Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words" (Romans 8:26). When you pray, you are saying: God, I believe You are there. I believe You are able. I believe I cannot do this without You. That is precisely what the disciples lacked. Somewhere their faith became self-reliant.
    Self-reliance kills faith. It removes the need for God and replaces dependence with assumption. A self-reliant church stops praying and starts strategizing. It trusts methods and outcomes instead of the Spirit of God. It drifts from the full counsel of Scripture. It stops evangelizing its community. A faithful church, by contrast, cries out to God, asking Him to do what only He can do, believing His promises, and stepping forward in joyful, courageous obedience. Strong faith cries out with the psalmist, "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God" (Psalm 20:7).
    So let me ask you:

    How do you pray?

    Calvin said plainly, "Doubtful prayer is no prayer at all."

    You cannot pray for your wayward child while secretly doubting that God will act. You cannot pray for victory over sin while assuming defeat. You cannot ask God to move in this church, this school, this community, while quietly believing nothing will change. God is not honored by hesitant unbelief dressed up as prayer. Hebrews 11:6 makes this plain: "Without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him."
    Calvin goes further:
    "The true proof of faith is the assurance when we pray that God will really perform what He has promised us." John Calvin
    That is what Jesus is calling you to, God-honoring, Christ-exalting, Spirit-empowered, Scripture-infused faith that believes God can do the impossible.
    And there is grace in this passage for us. The disciples' failure did not limit Jesus' ministry, and neither does yours when your faith is weak.
    Jesus does what His disciples could not do. He does not perform a ritual. He does not struggle with the demon or negotiate with it. He simply rebukes it, and it leaves. The boy is immediately healed, completely, with no lingering effects. This is the Christ of whom John would later write, "The reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the works of the devil" (1 John 3:8). He is never overmatched.
    Why could Jesus deliver the boy with such ease where His disciples had failed? Because the power was never in the disciples. The power of faith is never in you. It is always in Christ.
    Do you believe one word from the Son of God, the Alpha and Omega (Revelation 22:13), the King of Kings and Lord of Lords (Revelation 19:16), is enough to drive out the darkness? Do you believe one word is enough to restore what is desperately broken, to accomplish what human strength never could? Do you believe as Isaiah declared centuries before, "He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength" (Isaiah 40:29)?
    Take courage brothers and sisters and understand the power of Jesus. The disciples did not lose their authority. They lost sight of their dependence. And those are not the same thing. You can carry a genuine calling, a real gifting, a testimony of God's power working through you, and still show up to ministry trusting in all of that experience rather than in Christ Himself. Past victories are a testimony to God's faithfulness, but they are not a reservoir to draw from in the next battle. Paul understood this well when he wrote, "Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God" (2 Corinthians 3:5).
    When you stop praying with desperation, you have already answered the question of whom you are resting.
    So if your faith is weak because of self-reliance, return to dependence. Return to the posture of the father in this passage, on your knees, out of options, with nowhere to look but Christ. "Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need" (Hebrews 4:16). Your faith grows stronger and becomes more effective not when you bring more to it, but when it leans more fully on the power of God.

    Faith Grows When It Depends on the Power of God (Matthew 17:19–21)

    After Jesus explains why the disciples could not cast out the demon, He turns their attention to the kind of faith God uses to accomplish His work.
    He says to them, "For truly I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will tell this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you" (Matthew 17:20).
    When Jesus says "truly," He is calling for their full attention. He is saying, listen carefully, this is the absolute truth. And the truth He speaks is this: God does not require great amounts of faith. He requires genuine faith placed in His power.
    The mustard seed was not the smallest seed in existence, but it was small enough to make Jesus' point. He uses it to show that the effectiveness of faith is not found in its size but in its object. Faith is not powerful because it is large. Faith is powerful because it trusts in the almighty God of heaven and earth. Charles Spurgeon captured it plainly: "It is not great faith you need; it is faith in a great God." Faith is simply the window through which you see His power at work.
    So the question is not, "How much faith do you have?" The question is, "In whom are you placing your faith?"
    Jesus paints a vivid picture. He speaks of a mountain moving from one place to another. He is not primarily calling us to rearrange geography. He is showing us that what is humanly impossible becomes divinely possible in Christ. No man commands a mountain to move, nor will any mountain listen to the mere words of a man. Only God's word carries that kind of power. The psalmist knew this well: "Our God is in the heavens; he does all that he pleases" (Psalm 115:3). And Jesus says that even the smallest measure of genuine faith, placed in the power of almighty God, can see the impossible happen.
    When we think about the impossible, we often think of miracles: casting out demons, calming storms, raising the dead. Jesus did all of those things. But the greatest impossibility He accomplished was something far more personal and far more necessary for us. He reconciled treasonous sinners to a holy and jealous God.
    Paul describes the weight of this in Romans 5:6,8: "For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Jesus lived the perfect, sinless life we could not live (Hebrews 4:15). He went to the cross as our substitute, bearing the full weight of God's wrath against sin (Isaiah 53:5). He died in our place so that we could be forgiven. Then God raised Him from the dead, proving that sin, Satan, and death had been defeated (1 Corinthians 15:54–57).
    That is the ultimate impossibility. A holy God bringing sinful people into His presence without compromising His justice, and Jesus completely and resolutely accomplished it. We did not need a mountain to move from here to there. We needed a Savior to climb a hill called Calvary, remain on a cross, die the death we deserved, and rise in the power of God so that we could be truly and completely forgiven. As Peter declared, "He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed" (1 Peter 2:24).
    That means it does not take great faith to be saved. It takes real faith, the size of a mustard seed, in a great Savior.
    This is the promise of the gospel. God does not ask you to manufacture strength you do not have. He asks you to bring what you do have, however small, and place it in the One who has all power. Paul understood this when he wrote, "I can do all things through him who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:13). Notice your strength has nothing to do with experience or gifting or gritty determination. It all comes through Christ, who strengthens. And if that makes you feel weak and vulnerable, good. Because in 2 Corinthians 12:9, the Lord said to Paul, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." The weakness of mustard seed faith is not a liability in God's hands. It is the very condition in which His power is most clearly displayed.
    Faith grows when it depends on God's power. So believe Him. The one who spoke and the universe came into existence (Genesis 1:3) is the same one who speaks into the impossibilities of your life. Call out to Him. "Call to me," He says in Jeremiah 33:3, "and I will answer you, and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known." Trust Him and then step forward, expecting Him to act. "And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him" (Hebrews 11:6).
    Rest in the promise that He provides what we cannot provide for ourselves. "He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?" (Romans 8:32). The God who moved heaven and earth to save you will not abandon you in the smaller impossibilities of daily faith and ministry. Trust Him. Depend on Him. And watch what He does, and rest in Him.

    Faith Rests in the Son Who Eternally Provides for Your Future (Matthew 17:22–27)

    John Stott wrote, "Saving faith is resting faith, the trust which relies entirely on the Saviour." Resting in Christ is trusting Him with your life, your death, and your eternity. Jesus points His disciples to this very thing in verses 22–27.
    Right in the middle of this moment, between the failure of the disciples and the miracle of deliverance, Jesus shifts the conversation in a way that feels almost abrupt. Matthew gives us just two short verses:
    "As they were gathering in Galilee, Jesus said to them, 'The Son of Man is about to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him, and he will be raised on the third day.' And they were greatly distressed" (Matthew 17:22–23).
    Jesus pulls His disciples away from the immediate problem and directs their attention to the ultimate purpose of His ministry. He was not here to provide temporary relief from disease and demonic oppression. He was here to set the captives completely and permanently free (Luke 4:18).
    He tells them plainly what is about to happen. He will be delivered. He will be killed. And He will rise again.
    And their response is grief. They are distressed. Why?
    Because, once again, they were struggling with the idea of their Messiah being crucified. Faith struggles when it does not understand the cross. As long as you believe faith is about what you can do for God, or what you can get from God as far as this world is concerned, you will always feel like you are falling short. But when you see that faith rests in what Christ has done for you, everything begins to change. Paul makes this the center of everything: "For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified" (1 Corinthians 2:2).
    Jesus was not confused about His future. He knew exactly where He was going. The cross was not a surprise to Him. What looks like chaos in the hands of sinful men is actually the sovereign design of God. Isaiah saw this centuries before it happened: "Yet it was the will of the Lord to crush him; he has put him to grief" (Isaiah 53:10). And Paul stands in wonder at the depth of it: "Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways! For from him and through him and to him are all things" (Romans 11:33, 36).
    Jesus walked toward the cross with full knowledge of what was coming. He even prayed in Gethsemane for the cup to pass if it were possible (Matthew 26:39). But He embraced it willingly. Why? Because He knew He had authority over it.
    He said plainly, "I lay down my life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again" (John 10:17–18).
    No government overpowered Him. Satan did not corner Him. Death did not claim Him against His will. He gave Himself. And He raised His life up again. That is absolute authority.
    But Jesus not only demonstrated authority over life and death. He demonstrated perfect faith in the Father. Peter tells us that when Jesus suffered, He did not retaliate. When He was reviled, He did not respond in kind. "He continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly" (1 Peter 2:23). Where the disciples failed to trust, Jesus trusted perfectly. Where their faith was weak, His obedience was flawless. He walked into suffering with unwavering confidence in the Father's plan and, because of that, He secured victory. As the writer of Hebrews says, He endured the cross "for the joy that was set before him" (Hebrews 12:2).
    Your faith can rest securely in Christ. You can rest in the truth that Jesus has authority over every aspect of your life today and over everything that concerns your tomorrow, because He trusted the Father perfectly, went to the cross willingly, and walked out of the tomb triumphantly. "Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" (1 Corinthians 15:54–55). Death could not hold Him. Satan could not stop Him. And what conquered the grave is more than sufficient for whatever you are facing right now.
    You can rest in the truth that He holds the future of this church in His hands. We do not build it. We do not sustain it. We do not secure it. He does. Jesus promised, "I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it" (Matthew 16:18). He has never failed to accomplish what He has purposed, and He will not begin now.
    We serve a risen Savior. A risen Savior who possesses absolute authority over heaven, earth, and everything beneath. He declared it Himself after the resurrection: "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me" (Matthew 28:18). Every demon the disciples faced was already a defeated enemy. Every trial you are walking through right now is under His sovereign rule. Every uncertainty about what comes next is already known and governed by the One who conquered death itself. "He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world" (1 John 4:4).
    So rest in Him. Not passively, but with the settled, unshakeable confidence of a people whose King has already won. "Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith" (Hebrews 12:1–2). He is the founder. He is the perfecter. And He is faithful to finish what He has begun.

    When Your Faith Fails, Trust the Son Who Never Does (Matthew 17:24–27)

    The text seems to take another odd turn, but it still belongs to our context of faith. Matthew shows us Jesus providing once more in the account of the temple tax.
    When Jesus died, the curtain of the temple would be torn in two, opening the way to God that had been closed since Eden (Matthew 27:51). So why would He pay for the upkeep of a system about to be fulfilled in Him?
    Jesus asks Peter a simple question. Do kings collect taxes from their sons or from strangers? Peter answers correctly: "From strangers" (Matthew 17:26). The point is clear. Jesus, as the Son of God, is free. He owes nothing. And yet He chose to pay, not because He must, but because He refused to create an unnecessary offense that would hinder people from coming to God. He did not surrender His authority. He subordinated it to His mission.
    Then Jesus does something remarkable. He tells Peter to cast a line into the sea and take the first fish he catches. In that fish's mouth will be a coin sufficient to pay the tax for both of them (Matthew 17:27).
    Think about what that requires. Jesus ordains that a coin falls into the water. A fish finds it and holds it. That fish swims to the right place at the right moment. Peter casts his line and pulls up that exact fish. All of creation moves at the command of Christ so that a small tax can be paid. As Job declared, "I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted" (Job 42:2).
    Why show this to Peter? Why show it to us?
    Because Jesus reminds us, right before He goes to the cross, that He is sovereign over everything. His authority is unmatched. And He uses His power not to exalt Himself, but to save others. "For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many" (Matthew 20:28).
    Faith does not rest in your ability to perform. Faith rests in Christ's authority and His finished work. "It is finished," He declared from the cross (John 19:30), and those words were not the last gasp of a dying man. They were the triumphant declaration of a conquering King who had accomplished everything the Father sent Him to do.
    Faith does not trust in what you can accomplish. Faith trusts in what Jesus has already accomplished. The coin in the fish's mouth was not there because Peter earned it. It was there because Jesus provided it. And so it is with everything you need for life, godliness, and eternal standing before God (2 Peter 1:3).
    So when your faith feels weak, do not look within yourself for strength. Look to Christ. He knows what lies ahead. He governs all things according to His will. He has already secured the victory. And because He lives, you have nothing to fear. "He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ" (Philippians 1:6). He who called you will keep you. He who saved you will never abandon you.
    When your faith fails, trust the Son who never does.

      • Matthew 17:14–27ESV

      • Matthew 17:19–21ESV

      • Matthew 17:22–27ESV

      • Matthew 17:24–27ESV

  • Rock Of Ages (Toplady)
First Baptist Church Litchfield
pastorjason.fbcl@gmail.com
217-324-4232
http://www.firstbaptistlitchfield.org/
38 members • 6 followers