Saving Faith

David’s Understanding
(Psalm 40:6) “Burnt-offering and sin-offering hast thou not required.”

When I think about the burdens borne by God’s people in the Old Testament, I am struck by the heaviness of their spiritual journey. Forgiveness required blood sacrifices repeatedly. With every sin, an animal's life had to be taken. A cycle of death, ritual, and guilt was the only way to seek favour with Jehovah. Yet even then, there was no guarantee of peace with God.

But then David writes something shocking for his time:

“Burnt-offering and sin-offering hast thou not required.”

This wasn’t rebellion—it was revelation. David had seen what many missed. He recognised that true righteousness could never come from ritual, only from relationship.

When Moses came down from Mount Sinai with the Ten Commandments, God’s expectations were clear. Obedience was the path to blessing. The Law laid down every regulation—how to live, how to worship, how to be clean. And yet, even with all their religious effort, Israel’s heart wandered.

By the time of Jesus, the people still practised the law, but their hearts were hollow. Jesus looked at their spiritual leaders—the Pharisees and Sadducees—and exposed the truth:

(Matthew 3:7) “...Ye offspring of vipers, who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?”

They wore religious robes, but they lacked repentance. They clung to tradition but had no trust.

They were self-righteous, and the self-righteous rarely find salvation.

Here’s the danger we face today:

We replace saving faith with religious activity.
We talk about grace, but live as if we must earn it.
Or worse, we abuse grace, using it as a license to continue in sin.

(Romans 6:1-2) “Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound? God forbid.”

Grace is not permission to live however we want.
It is the divine power to live as we ought.
God doesn’t save us so we can sin freely—He saves us so we can live freely under His rule. This process is designed for all to learn from and aspire to holy living. Although we will continue to fall short, we must strive to find grace to put off the filth of the flesh. Our fallen natures will always seek to assert themselves.

And who finds that freedom?
The sinner who knows he needs saving.
Not the proud. Not the polished. But the broken. The humble. The desperate.

That’s why we so often hear of prisoners, addicts, and outcasts finding Christ. They are not pretending. They know they are lost. And because of that honesty, God reaches down with mercy.

Jesus didn’t come for those who think they’re righteous—He came for those who know they’re not.

David knew this. He sinned greatly, yet instead of hiding behind sacrifices or religious performance, he cried out to God. He understood that forgiveness didn’t come from slaughtering an animal—it came from a surrendered heart.

(Psalm 51:17) “A broken and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.”

He knew the law could not save—it only revealed his need for a Saviour. That’s why his words in Psalm 40 are so powerful:

“Burnt-offering and sin-offering hast thou not required.”

David looked beyond the altar and saw grace. He trusted God long before Calvary, before the cross, before the resurrection. And what fuelled his faith?

Faith, love, and trust—three sisters that never walk alone.
If one is missing, the others are weakened.

·         Without faith, love loses its anchor.

·         Without trust, faith becomes mechanical.

·         Without love, trust is shallow.

David had all three. He loved God. He trusted Him. And he had faith, not in what he could do, but in who God is.

So, I ask you: Will you live like David?
Will you trust God’s grace, but not abuse it?
Will you love Him—not just with your lips, but with your life?
Will you walk by faith, and stop trying to earn what can only be received?

Let’s remember: We are not saved because we are good. We are saved because God is good.
And that goodness leads us not into sin, but into surrender.

Father, give us hearts like David—soft, repentant, and real. Teach us to walk daily with faith, to love You deeply, and to trust You completely. Keep us from the trap of self-righteousness. And may we never use grace as a cover for rebellion, but as power to live in obedience.

Signing off,
Tyrone