A Living Daring Confidence In God's Grace

A Sermon on Matthew 9:9–13, 18–26
Martin Luther once wrote these unforgettable words: “Faith is a living, daring confidence in God’s grace.” Faith is not a timid guess about the future. Faith is certainly not confidence in ourselves. Let’s add to this. Faith is a living confidence in the grace of God revealed in Jesus Christ.
This is what is the core, the heart of our scripture today in Matthew. Not too surprising because the author of the gospel of Matthew is the former tax collector turned disciple. Think about it. This gives hope to all of us, congregation.
Every person in this passage comes to Jesus with weakness rather than strength. Matthew comes with a compromised past. A distraught father comes with grief. An ailing woman comes with twelve years of suffering. A child lies dead. No one here arrives impressive or self-sufficient.Yet grace meets every one of them.
The chapter begins with Jesus walking past a tax booth and seeing a man named Matthew. To most people, Matthew was the kind of person one avoided. Tax collectors were a daily symbol of Roman oppression, and considered dishonest and greedy. He would not have been considered an example of deep spiritual faith. And yet Jesus says simply: “Follow me.”
N. T. Wright often emphasizes that when Jesus called disciples and shared meals with sinners, he was announcing the arrival of God’s kingdom. God does not wait at a distance for people to become worthy. He comes in person. Jesus. Grace is not an intellectual idea. Grace is right here walking down a road, stopping at one’s workplace, calling a person by name. This time it was Matthew who was called, then rises and follows Jesus. The next time it can be you.
Martin Luther agrees. Christ does not first demand that Matthew prove himself. The call itself is grace. Jesus creates what he commands. The invitation carries the power to begin a new life. So, if God calls you and you follow, you will be given the power to do it. Know this. This is why Luther insisted that salvation rests not on human achievement but on trusting Christ’s promise.
Evangelical pastor Luke Timothy Johnson points out that Jesus is not rejecting worship or obedience. Rather, he is exposing the kind of religion that has lost touch with the compassionate heart of God. Religious correctness without love and mercy doesn’t reflect who God is. This remains a dangerous trap for the church.
Concern with appearances and respectability gets in the way of tending to those who suffer. We become more concerned about what people can do to keep the church going or how much money they can donate. We speak about grace but expect people to earn it. But Jesus moves in the opposite direction. He goes toward the sick. Toward the ashamed. Toward those whose lives are complicated. Toward the impoverished.
And then the former tax collector Matthew immediately gives us two intertwined stories of desperation and faith. A ruler kneels before Jesus because his daughter has died. Before Jesus reaches the house, a woman suffering from bleeding for twelve years touches his cloak. Both stories are filled with weakness and desperation. The ruler cannot save his child. The woman cannot heal herself. Neither comes to Jesus from strength. Yet, amazingly both come with confidence in grace.
The woman says to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be made well.” What kind of faith is this? Not certainty in herself. But she believes Jesus is merciful.
Luther’s words fit perfectly here: faith is a living, daring confidence in God’s grace. Daring, because this woman risks reaching out after years of disappointment and exclusion. Living, because her hope is in the living Christ standing before her.
Jesus turns and says: “Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.”Notice the tender words of Jesus. He does not simply heal her body. He restores her dignity. He calls her “daughter.” Later, he simply takes the hand of the child, bringing her to life. Death backs down before Jesus.
This is not only about ancient miracle stories. It is about the deepest truth of the gospel. We experience many forms of loss long before physical death arrives. With Christ these things can be overcome.
Our scripture today answers all these unsettling thoughts with Christ himself who is merciful, compassionate, and embraces our brokenness. Faith begins precisely here—not in believing we are strong enough, but in trusting that Christ is gracious enough.
Often Christians think faith means never doubting, never struggling, never feeling afraid. But in Scripture, faith often appears in trembling hands reaching out toward Jesus. The exhausted graduate student concerned about the future, the weary caretaker, the infirm or financially worried seniors, the dual working family being pulled in every direction and those in transition.
The power of salvation rests not in the greatness of our faith but in the greatness of the Savior.
So when we come to Christ, we do not come pretending to be strong. We come like Matthew. the grieving father and the suffering woman. And we can still hear Jesus saying: “Follow me. Take heart. Do not be afraid.” Thanks be to God. Amen.