Faith That Walks Before It Sees

“Faith That Walks Before It Sees”

John 4:43–54 and 1 Kings 17:8–24

Preacher: Rev. Mark Bartsch

Kobe Union Church

September 7, 2025

Have you ever heard the adage, “Believe none of what you hear and half of what you see”? It’s a reminder to be cautious, to test what we’re told, and not be too quick to trust what the world is serving up. And it is good advice when dealing with the world. But sometimes we take that advice and apply it to our faith. 

Trusting God is where faith gets real. True faith is trusting God before we see (and it is not easy)—acting on a promise from the Lord before we witness the result. Every farmer understands this concept; they plant seeds long before the harvest. Every parent knows this; they shape and guide their children, hoping and praying it will bear fruit in time. But even though this idea is woven into our everyday experiences, we often struggle with it in our spiritual lives.

Why is that? Maybe it’s because we’ve been conditioned to say, “Seeing is believing.” We want proof before commitment. That was Thomas’s approach when he heard Jesus had risen. As you remember, after the resurrection Jesus appeared to ten of the eleven disciples, and Thomas was not there. When the ten told Thomas about their encounter with the risen Jesus, he said, “Unless I see the nail marks in His hands and put my finger where the nails were… I will not believe.”

Today, in our texts from John 4 and 1 Kings 17, we meet people who chose a different path than Thomas. They are people who believed before they saw. They took Jesus/God at His word and started walking in faith even before they could see the results. And because of that faith—faith that walked before it saw—their lives were forever changed.

John 4 is a chapter that reveals Jesus as the Savior who breaks through human barriers of race, sex, and culture when He meets the Samaritan woman at the well. When He starts the conversation with the woman, “Can I have a drink of water?” she responds like a lot of us do, out of the flesh, not realizing who she is talking to. She responds as an outsider by race, gender, and lifestyle, but Jesus speaks into her life starting with that simple question. As the conversation deepens, Jesus tells her of the streams of living water that are available to her through Him. You do not need to be spiritually thirsty anymore. Here is the amazing thing, she embraces that life of faith despite her past. Jesus also reveals that true worship is not tied to a specific location but can be done anywhere and everywhere—yet it must be done truthfully and always led by the Spirit of God. 

This woman, who starts as an outcast burdened by shame, is transformed by the Holy Spirit, and she becomes the first evangelist for Jesus as the Christ.

After spending two days among the Samaritans—people who surprisingly welcomed Him with open hearts—Jesus returns to Galilee. But things are different. There’s a kind of ironic reception. John notes, “Now Jesus Himself had pointed out that a prophet has no honor in his own country” (Jn 4:44). His own people welcomed Him, yes—but not for who He is, but for who they wanted Him to be. They were curious, but they were more interested in signs than in a Savior. Drawn to the gift but dismissing the Giver. More interested in what Jesus could do for them than in what Jesus could do in them. If I could highlight this, it’s one of the major issues across the Christian church: the “what have you done for me lately” attitude toward Jesus.

It’s in this atmosphere of shallow belief that a desperate man steps forward. He’s a royal official, likely in the service of King Herod Antipas, and he’s traveled from Capernaum to Cana—an uphill journey of nearly 25 kilometers—because his son is dying. His plea is urgent. He’s not concerned about theological debates. He’s a father coming on behalf of his ill son. He begs Jesus: “Come and heal my son.” Simple and to the point. And God honors that kind of prayer.

At first, Jesus responds with a comment that may seem cold: “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will never believe” (John 4:48). But the official doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t get offended. He presses in: “Sir, come down before my child dies.” Then Jesus does something unexpected. He doesn’t go. He doesn’t lay hands on the boy. He simply speaks: “Go; your son will live.” It echoes the healing of the centurion’s servant, where Jesus heals from afar (Matthew 8). And here is this man’s act of faith: he turns away from despair and trusts Jesus. As Hebrews 11:1 reminds us, “Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.”

That’s faith. That’s what this message is about—faith that walks before it sees. The kind of trust that moves forward because Jesus has spoken.

He believed it without seeing. He trusted before the miracle was confirmed. He walked 25 kilometers back home in faith. It was at least an 8–10 hour fast pace on rough roads. Given the timing, we know the man got back the following day, so he stayed the night somewhere along the way. Before he reached home, he was met by one of his servants with the news: “Your son is alive!” When he asked about the timing, they told him: “Yesterday, at one in the afternoon, the fever left him.” It was the exact moment Jesus had spoken. And then comes the result: “So he and his whole household believed (in Jesus).” The physical miracle of healing led to the spiritual miracle of faith. And both are miracles.

One question. We know that this man had servants, but he didn’t send them. Why not? Just like the centurion who had men under him but came himself—he came because some things are too important to farm out to others. Some things, like faith—no matter how much power and money you have—cannot be outsourced. So he came to the Lord himself. Practically speaking, you know that I pray for the people of the church. I do. Even on my days off. But that does not mean you are off the hook to pray for your work, your kids, your marriages, your finances. I pray for you, but you can’t farm it out to me. It’s too important—you need to pray and come to the Father too.

Now, let’s turn to the story of Elijah—one of my favorite prophets. He, too, had to walk before he saw. The story of Elijah and the widow of Zarephath in 1 Kings 17 is one that Jesus Himself references. During a severe famine, God sends Elijah to a foreign town to care for and be cared for by a widow. We know from Jesus’ teaching that there were Jewish settlements with widows in need, but God sent Elijah where He knew there was not only a need—but, more importantly, where Elijah would have an impact that would build God’s kingdom. Will you allow God to send you where you can have an impact?

This is not new; it happens throughout Scripture. In Acts 8, Philip was winning thousands to the kingdom in Samaria, but God sent him to the road where he met just one Ethiopian, a eunuch. It did not make sense for him to give up a vibrant ministry to minister to just one, but he did because God told him to. And through that one encounter, Philip led a eunuch—a man who could not bear children—to Christ. And through that encounter, this man who could not bear children became a father of the Christian church in Ethiopia. Ethiopia—a place Philip never went, so he never saw the harvest.

Back to Elijah. He meets this widow and finds her gathering sticks to prepare her final meal for herself and her son because they are going to starve to death. She has nothing left. But Elijah, in a radical challenge to her faith, says, “Do not fear… first make me a small cake… and afterward make for yourself and your son. For thus says the LORD, the God of Israel: ‘The bin of flour shall not be used up, nor shall the jar of oil fail, until the day the LORD sends rain on the earth’” (13–14).

She could have dismissed him as a madman. But she took him at his word. She believed before she saw. She baked for the prophet first, and as promised, the flour and oil never ran out. For months, they were sustained by the hand of God.

Later in the story, tragedy strikes. The widow’s son falls ill and dies. In her grief, she cries out to Elijah: “What have I to do with you, O man of God? Have you come to me to bring my sin to remembrance and to kill my son?” (17:18).

The woman’s faith is tested. Her son, her only hope, is dead. But Elijah, with unwavering faith, takes the boy, lays him on his bed, and cries out to the Lord. He doesn’t say, “Look at this unbelief.” Instead, he intercedes on her behalf. He prays, “O LORD my God, please let this child’s life return to him.” And the Lord hears his prayer. The boy comes back to life. Elijah brings the boy down to his mother, and her faith is deepened. She says, “Now by this I know that you are a man of God, and that the word of the LORD in your mouth is the truth” (17:24).

This summer, on holiday, I listened to a book on tape called The Fifth Mountain by Paulo Coelho. It retells the story of Elijah and the widow and their journey of faith. So often the biblical accounts focus on what the prophets do for others. In this story, Paulo Coelho focuses on how God uses this widow to minister to the prophet, to prepare him for what he needs to do.

What do these two stories—the royal official in John 4 and the widow in 1 Kings 17—teach us? They are separated by centuries, but they are bound together by the same faith, the same word, and the same call.

• Both begin in desperation: a dying son, a lifeless child. Both parents are powerless, facing the reality that death is stronger than they are.

• Both require faith before seeing: the royal official must walk home on nothing but Jesus’ word; the widow must hand over her last hope to Elijah, trusting God will provide.

• And both end with life out of death: a child healed, a child raised, and parents who discover the truth in the Word of God.

This is the pattern of the gospel. Our faith is not a vague wish—it is trust in the One who brings life where death seems final. These stories are a preview of Easter: Jesus Himself, who died, yet rose again, proving that not even the grave can silence God’s word.

And this faith is what brings us now to this table. Communion is not just a ritual; it is an act of trust. We come with empty hands, desperate in our own ways. We cannot save ourselves, and we cannot fix all that is broken. But we hear His word: “This is my body, given for you. This is my blood, poured out for the forgiveness of sins.”

Here is the same God who spoke life into the widow’s house. The same Christ who told the official, “Go; your son will live.” And here He tells us: “Take, eat, drink… and live.”

As you come to the table today, bring your desperation, bring your waiting, bring your sorrows. And believe before you see. For the Word made flesh has spoken: in Him, there is life.

Let’s pray.

Discussion Questions

1. Looking at the royal official, the widow, Abraham, Noah, Mary, and others in Scripture—why do you think God so often asks people to trust Him before they see the results?

2. Hebrews 11 describes faith as being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. In your own words, what does that mean for how we live day to day?

3. Both the royal official and the widow had to act in faith while still desperate and uncertain. How has God asked you to “walk before you see” in your own life, and what did you learn from it?