Introduction–
There are moments in life when faith feels strong.
And there are moments when faith feels… heavy.
Heavy because of grief.
Heavy because of exhaustion.
Heavy because you’ve prayed the same prayer longer than you ever expected to.
And here’s the truth we don’t say out loud enough in church:
Sometimes your faith is not enough to carry you.
That doesn’t make you weak.
It makes you human.
One of the quiet lies of modern Christianity is that faith is supposed to be private and self-contained. But Scripture tells a different story. From Genesis to Revelation, faith is almost always communal before it is individual.
Series Recap – How We’ve Learned to Believe Boldly
Before we go any further today, I want us to pause for a moment and remember where we’ve been—because this series has been building something, step by step.
Believe Boldly was never about hype.
It was never about pretending things are easier than they are.
It’s been about learning what faith looks like when life is real.
We started this volume with Ask Anyway.
We met Bartimaeus—blind, overlooked, sitting beside the road.
A man who had learned how to survive disappointment.
And yet, when he heard Jesus was passing by, he refused to stay quiet.
Even when the crowd told him to stop.
Even when it would’ve been easier to manage expectations.
He cried out anyway.
And we learned this:
Bold faith doesn’t wait for permission.
It doesn’t shrink because of discouragement.
It asks anyway—not because circumstances are favorable, but because Jesus is faithful.
Then in Just Say the Word, we moved from desperation to authority.
We met a Roman centurion—an unlikely example of faith.
A man who understood power, command, and authority.
And what amazed Jesus wasn’t volume or intensity—but clarity.
“Lord, you don’t need to come.
Just say the word.”
And that week we learned:
Faith isn’t about proximity or performance.
It’s about where you place your confidence.
It’s trusting that who Jesus is, is enough—even from a distance.
Then last week, in Surviving the Storm, faith anchors us to safety.
We stood with Paul on a ship in Acts 27—
a storm he didn’t choose,
a situation he couldn’t control,
and an outcome he couldn’t fix.
And yet, in the middle of fear, exhaustion, and loss, Paul did one thing:
He held onto what God had already said.
We learned that bold faith doesn’t always calm storms.
Sometimes it just holds on.
Sometimes it clings to broken pieces and trusts God to bring us safely to shore.
And if you look closely, there’s a progression here.
Bartimaeus shows us faith when we need Jesus.
The centurion shows us faith when we’re trusting Jesus’ authority.
Paul shows us faith when everything feels like it’s falling apart.
But today, the focus shifts one more step outward.
Transition – When Faith Isn’t Just About You
Because eventually, faith stops being only about what God will do for you—
and starts becoming about what God might do through you.
What happens when someone else can’t cry out?
What happens when someone else can’t walk to Jesus on their own—because they’ve been running, resisting, or hurt?
What happens when faith isn’t just personal—but relational?
Today, we meet a man who can’t move.
And four friends who refuse to leave him where he is.
And what we’re about to see is this:
Sometimes the boldest faith in the room
belongs to the people willing to carry someone else to Jesus.
So if you have your Bible, turn with me to Mark chapter 2.
Because this is where Believe Boldly doesn’t just ask,
doesn’t just trust,
doesn’t just endure—
It shows up, picks up the mat,
and carries.
Which brings us to this moment in the Gospel of Mark—a scene so vivid you can almost hear it.
Setting the Scene – A Crowded House and a Desperate Need
Jesus has returned to Capernaum. Word has spread. The house is packed. Shoulder to shoulder. Standing room only. People pressed up against the door, windows open, everyone leaning in.
Jesus is teaching.
And somewhere outside the house, four friends are carrying a paralyzed man on a mat.
They don’t just know about Jesus.
They believe something about Jesus.
They believe He’s worth the effort.
They believe He’s worth the risk.
They believe He’s worth the inconvenience.
And when they arrive, the obstacle hits them: no way in.
Now pause here for a moment.
Because this is where most of us stop.
Most of us see the crowd and say,
“Well… I tried.”
“Guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
“I’ll pray about it later.”
But bold faith doesn’t stop at obstacles.
Bold faith starts asking different questions.
Not “Why is this so hard?”
But “Is there another way?”
Read Mark 2:1-4
1) Bold Faith Looks for a Way, Not an Excuse
Mark tells us they go up on the roof.
That decision changed the room.
It was disruptive. It was costly. And it put them on display.
But bold faith doesn’t stay quiet when someone’s life is on the line.
They dig.
Dust falls.
Debris interrupts the sermon.
Roofs were living spaces—this wasn’t vandalism.
It was bold, risky, relationally costly action.
And I wonder how long Jesus kept preaching…
before He stopped and simply looked up at the growing hole above Him.
And I love this detail:
Jesus doesn’t stop them.
He doesn’t say, “Hey, guys—wrong entrance.”
He doesn’t say, “This is inappropriate.”
He lets faith interrupt the room.
Sometimes the thing God is most pleased with
is the thing that disrupts religious comfort.
Sermon Illustration – When Love Keeps Showing Up
I’ve learned something over the years—especially as a parent—that not everyone who needs help knows how to ask for it.
Sometimes the people who need love the most don’t say, “I’m hurting.”
They act it out.
They push away.
They get angry.
They go quiet.
We’ve had seasons in our home where one of our kids carries a lot of hurt they didn’t choose. And sometimes that hurt shows up as distance, or defensiveness, or anger—especially when it feels like life has been unfair.
There are days they don’t want to talk.
Days they don’t want comfort.
Days they’re angry about things that aren’t easily fixed.
And I’ve had to learn this:
Love doesn’t always get invited in—but it still shows up.
I can’t force healing.
I can’t rush trust.
I can’t make pain disappear.
But I can stay.
I can be consistent.
I can keep the door open.
Sometimes faith looks like carrying someone closer to safety even when they’re resisting—because giving up on them was never an option.
(pause)
READ: Galatians 6:2–3
Paul names this tension directly—calling us to carry what others cannot, and reminding us that refusing to help often says more about our pride than our wisdom.
Carrying someone else isn’t beneath us.
It’s the way we obey Christ.
READ: James 2:17
17 So you see, faith by itself isn’t enough. Unless it produces good deeds, it is dead and useless.
James presses it even further. Faith that never moves never helps anyone. Belief that stays theoretical doesn’t heal. It doesn’t restore. It doesn’t change lives.
The friends in Mark 2 could have believed Jesus could heal—and still left their friend outside.
But bold faith doesn’t stop at belief.
It acts.
And for those of us who have been carrying longer than we expected—who are tired, worn down, and wondering if it’s making any difference—Paul comes back around with a word we need to hear:
READ: Galatians 6:9–10
Don’t grow weary of doing what is good.
Don’t stop loving.
Don’t stop showing up.
Don’t quit just because the road is longer than you thought it would be.
God sees faithfulness—even when outcomes haven’t changed yet.
And this is where the story takes a turn none of them were expecting.
Because when the friends finally get their friend to Jesus—
when they’ve done everything they can do—
Jesus doesn’t respond the way anyone imagined.
He doesn’t start with the body.
He starts with the heart.
Because bold faith doesn’t just bring people to Jesus for relief.
It trusts Jesus with what they need most.
Read Mark 2:5
2) Jesus Responds to “Their” Faith
Mark 2:5 says something remarkable:
“Seeing their faith, Jesus said to the paralyzed man, ‘My child, your sins are forgiven.’”
Not his faith.
Their faith.
Which tells us something deeply important:
God often works in someone’s life because someone else refused to quit believing.
There are seasons when one person’s faith carries another.
Parents carrying children.
Friends carrying friends.
Churches carrying the wounded.
This is why isolation is so dangerous—and why the enemy works so hard to convince us we don’t need community.
Because when you can’t believe for yourself,
God may already be moving through someone else who believes for you.
Sermon Illustration – Monica & Augustine: Faith That Wouldn’t Let Go
There’s a story from church history that has always stayed with me.
In the fourth century, there was a woman named Monica. She was a committed follower of Jesus. She loved God deeply—and she had a son named Augustine.
And Augustine wanted nothing to do with faith.
He lived recklessly. He openly rejected Christianity. He chased pleasure, success, philosophy—anything but God. By his own writing later in life, he wasn’t confused about faith. He just didn’t want it.
But Monica never stopped believing.
For more than fifteen years, she prayed for her son. She wept over him. She followed him from city to city as he ran farther from God. She sought counsel from pastors. She fasted. She cried out to God when nothing seemed to change.
At one point, a church leader tried to comfort her and said words that became famous:
“It is impossible that the son of so many tears should perish.”
And still—nothing changed.
Until one day, in a city called Milan, Augustine found himself listening to the preaching of Ambrose. Not because Augustine was seeking God—but because his mother’s faith had kept putting him close enough to hear.
Eventually, Augustine surrendered his life to Christ.
And years later, he wrote openly that his conversion wasn’t the result of his own spiritual hunger—but of his mother’s persistent faith. He believed God responded to her prayers long before Augustine was willing to pray for himself.
Augustine went on to become one of the most influential theologians in Christian history.
But it started with a mother who refused to stop carrying faith when her son wouldn’t.
(pause)
Augustine didn’t come to God because he was ready.
He came because someone else refused to give up on him.
That’s Mark 2.
The miracle doesn’t start with the man on the mat.
It starts with the people who won’t leave him where he is.
Sometimes the boldest faith in the room belongs to the one who keeps praying,
keeps showing up,
keeps believing—
even when the person they love is still running.
Read Mark 2:6-12
3) Jesus Deals with the Deeper Need First
Before the man walks…
Before the miracle…
Jesus forgives his sins.
That frustrates the religious leaders.
And honestly? It would frustrate us too.
“Jesus, that’s not why we went through the roof.”
But Jesus refuses to treat symptoms while ignoring the soul.
Because physical healing without spiritual restoration is temporary at best.
Jesus is saying:
“I’m not just here to make your life easier.
I’m here to make you whole.”
And then He asks the question that silences the room:
“Which is easier—to say your sins are forgiven, or to say get up and walk?”
And then He proves His authority.
4) Bring them to Jesus. Trust Him with the rest.
So after Jesus speaks to the deeper need first… the room gets tense.
The religious leaders are thinking it, even if they’re not saying it out loud:
“Who does He think He is?”
And Jesus doesn’t ignore that tension.
He addresses it head-on—because He’s not just trying to help one man.
He’s revealing who He is to everyone watching.
So Jesus asks the question that cuts through the noise:
What’s easier—to say your sins are forgiven… or to say get up and walk?
And then He does what only God can do.
He looks at the man on the mat and tells him to stand up… pick up his mat… and go home.
And Mark tells us the man got up.
Not gradually.
Not “after a few minutes.”
He got up.
The man who was carried in—walks out.
The mat that once carried him
is now carried by him.
And everyone sees it.
The crowd is stunned.
They’re praising God.
They’re saying they’ve never seen anything like this.
Now—here’s the point I don’t want us to miss.
The friends didn’t heal him.
They didn’t forgive him.
They didn’t control the moment or the outcome.
They didn’t have that kind of power.
All they did was get him close enough to Jesus for Jesus to do what only Jesus can do.
That’s the boundary of bold faith.
Bring them to Jesus. Trust Him with the outcome.
Because sometimes the most faithful thing you can do
is stop trying to carry the responsibility to fix what you can’t fix.
You can carry someone to the feet of Jesus.
You can pray.
You can stay consistent.
You can love.
You can keep showing up.
But you cannot do the part that only Jesus can do.
So hear this clearly:
Bold faith isn’t you controlling the result.
It’s refusing to quit bringing your friends and family to Jesus—
and trusting Jesus with the outcome.
(pause)
And that’s where this lands on us today:
Who are you carrying right now?
And have you confused your assignment?
Because your assignment is faithfulness.
His assignment is transformation.
Modern Illustration – Faith That Shows Up
We live in a world where encouragement often looks like a text message and a prayer emoji.
And those matter—but sometimes faith looks like showing up.
Driving someone to an appointment.
Sitting in silence.
Praying when it’s awkward.
Following up when everyone else forgets.
In a culture obsessed with independence, the church becomes countercultural when we say:
“You don’t have to walk alone.”
Application – Who Are You Carrying?
Let me ask it plainly:
• Who has God placed in your life that needs help getting to Jesus?
• Who can’t walk on their own right now?
• And what obstacle have you quietly accepted instead of challenged?
Because believing boldly doesn’t always look like shouting faith declarations.
Sometimes it looks like quietly carrying someone else’s mat.
Final Challenge – Be the Friend with the Faith
This is how we end Believe Boldly – Volume 5:
Not with bigger words.
But with deeper faith.
This week, when someone shares a need—
Don’t just promise to pray later.
Pray now.
Ask the Spirit:
“What’s my role here?”
Because you might be the reason someone else gets to Jesus.
Altar Call – Bringing Them to Jesus
Before we close today, I want to make space for something very simple—and very sacred.
Some of you are carrying people in your heart right now.
A son.
A daughter.
A spouse.
A parent.
A grandchild.
A friend.
People you love deeply.
People you’ve prayed for longer than you ever thought you would.
People who may be running from God… or just too wounded to come on their own.
And if you’re honest, you’re tired.
You’ve tried to say the right things.
You’ve tried to do the right things.
And somewhere along the way, faith started feeling heavy instead of hopeful.
So this morning, I’m not inviting you to fix anything.
I’m inviting you to do what the friends in Mark 2 did.
They didn’t heal their friend.
They didn’t forgive his sins.
They didn’t control the outcome.
They brought him to Jesus—and trusted Jesus with what happened next.
If you’re here today and there is someone you love that you don’t want to give up on…
someone you want to lay before God again…
someone you’re choosing to keep bringing to Jesus…
I want to invite you to come forward.
Not because this is magic.
Not because this guarantees an outcome.
But because sometimes our faith needs a physical moment of surrender.
You can come and kneel.
You can stand.
You can sit quietly.
As you come, I want you to picture the face of the person you’re carrying.
And in your own words, place them before God.
Say something like:
“God, I can’t fix this—but I trust You.”
“God, I won’t give up—but I will let go of control.”
“God, I bring them to You again.”
(pause, music begins softly)
As people come, let me say this clearly:
Coming forward doesn’t mean you haven’t believed enough.
It means you’re choosing to believe again.
And if you’re not able to come forward today—God sees your heart right where you are.
Church, let’s take a few quiet moments and bring our loved ones to Jesus together.
Closing Prayer
“Jesus, thank You for friends who carried us when we couldn’t walk.
Give us eyes to see who You’re calling us to carry.
Give us faith that climbs roofs.
Give us love that refuses to quit.
And help us believe boldly—not just for ourselves, but for others.
Amen.”
Closing Benediction
As you go today, may you remember this:
you are not responsible for the outcome—only for faithfulness.
So go carrying hope,
go trusting Jesus,
and go believing that God is still at work in the lives you’ve placed in His hands.
And now, may the Lord bless you and keep you.
May the Lord smile on you and be gracious to you.
May the Lord show you His favor and give you His peace.
