Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost

Fear vs. Faith

Grace, peace, and forgiveness to us all through our Lord, Jesus Christ!

Have you ever noticed how often the disciples get scared in the Gospels? It’s almost comforting, really. These are the people closest to Jesus, the ones who see his miracles with their own eyes—and yet they still find themselves terrified.

That’s exactly where we meet them today. They’re out on the Sea of Galilee, and if anyone should be comfortable on that water, it’s these men. Several of them made their living fishing there before they ever met Jesus. They knew this lake. They knew its moods. They knew its dangers.

But they also knew what had happened not too long before. Back in Matthew chapter 8, they were caught in another violent storm. The waves crashed over the boat. They were convinced they were going to die. Meanwhile, Jesus was asleep in the back of the boat. They woke him up shouting, “Lord, save us! We’re perishing!” Jesus stood up, spoke to the wind and the waves, and suddenly everything became calm.

Then he asked them a simple question: “Why are you afraid, you of little faith?”

Now here they are again, out on the same lake. This time the wind is still blowing, but that’s not what scares them. They’ve survived storms before. What frightens them is the figure they see walking toward them across the water. “It’s a ghost!” they cry.

But then they hear the familiar voice: “Take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid.” For most of us, that would probably be enough.

Not Peter. Peter says, “Lord, if it really is you, tell me to come to you on the water.” And Jesus simply says, “Come.” So, Peter climbs out of the boat.

Can we pause there for a moment?

We spend so much time talking about Peter sinking that we forget Peter is the only one who got out of the boat. Everyone else stayed where it felt safe. Peter actually walks on the water. But then he notices the wind. He looks at the waves. His fear takes over. He begins to sink.

And once again he cries out, “Lord, save me!” Jesus reaches out immediately, takes hold of him, and asks another question. “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” It’s almost the same question Jesus asked back in chapter eight.

Why are you afraid? Why did you doubt? Those questions weren’t just for Peter. They’re for us. Because if we’re honest, most of us know exactly what it’s feels like to be Peter.

There are seasons when our faith seems strong. We step out of the boat with confidence. We trust God. We believe everything is going to be okay. Then something happens. A diagnosis. A broken relationship. Financial worries. An uncertain future. A world that feels increasingly divided.

Suddenly the wind gets our attention. The waves look bigger than they did a moment ago. And before we know it, fear has replaced faith.

That’s what fear does. Fear narrows our vision. Instead of seeing Jesus, we only see the storm.

The remarkable thing is that Jesus doesn’t seem surprised by Peter’s fear. He doesn’t scold him. He doesn’t lecture him. The first thing Jesus does is reach out his hand. Only then does he ask, “Why did you doubt?”

I don’t think Jesus asks that question to make Peter feel guilty. I think he asks it because he wants Peter to remember something. The One who called him onto the water never stopped being there. The storm hadn’t changed that. Peter’s fear hadn’t changed that. Even Peter’s sinking hadn’t changed that. Jesus was still close enough to catch him.

And that’s good news for us. Because every one of us has moments when our faith wobbles. Every one of us has moments when we take our eyes off Christ and become overwhelmed by everything else. Faith isn’t pretending the storms aren’t real. Faith isn’t denying that life can be frightening. Faith is remembering that Jesus is present in the middle of the storm.

Notice that Jesus doesn’t make the wind disappear before Peter gets out of the boat. The storm is still there. The waves are still crashing. Faith isn’t the absence of storms. It’s learning to trust the One who meets us in them.

That’s really the pattern of the Christian life. We trust. We lose our focus. We begin to sink. We cry out. Jesus reaches for us. And then we begin again.

That’s true every Sunday when we gather for worship. We confess that we’ve fallen short. We receive God’s forgiveness. And we begin again.

Repentance isn’t about beating ourselves up. It’s about turning back toward Christ. Again and again.

Peter’s whole life followed that pattern. He got things right. He got things wrong. He spoke too quickly. He denied Jesus. And yet Jesus never gave up on him. Instead, Jesus kept calling him back.

Maybe that’s why Peter gives me so much hope. He reminds me that faith isn’t about getting everything right all the time. It’s about knowing where to turn when we’ve lost our way. It’s about crying out, “Lord, save me,” and trusting that Christ’s hand is already reaching toward us.

Sooner or later, every one of us will face storms. The question isn’t whether they will come. The question is where we’ll look when they do.

Will we focus on the wind? Or will we keep our eyes on the One who comes to us across the waves, saying,

“Take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid.”