The extraordinarily ordinary life of a Christian - The Christian answers doubt with faith

Matthew 14:22–33 ²²Immediately Jesus urged the disciples to get into the boat and to go ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. ²³After he had dismissed the crowd, he went up onto the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone. ²⁴By then the boat was quite a distance from shore, being pounded by the waves because the wind was against it. ²⁵In the fourth watch of the night, Jesus came toward them, walking on the sea. ²⁶When the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified and cried out in fear, “It’s a ghost!” ²⁷But Jesus spoke to them at once, saying, “Take heart! It is I! Do not be afraid.”

²⁸Peter answered him and said, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”

²⁹Jesus said, “Come!”

Peter stepped down from the boat, walked on the water, and went toward Jesus. ³⁰But when he saw the strong wind, he was afraid. As he began to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!”

³¹Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand, took hold of him, and said to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” ³²When they got into the boat, the wind stopped. ³³Those who were in the boat worshipped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God!”

“Consider it complete joy, whenever you fall into various kinds of trials, because you know that the testing of your faith produces patient endurance.” (James 1:2,3) Amen.

Have you ever been in a storm that caused you to really be afraid? Perhaps it was the storm two weeks ago when the tornado sirens went off in Kenosha and Racine. The smart people hurried into the basement for safety. The guys went outside to look at the sky.

In a broken, sinful world, storms come, fears come. Think of the things we’ve faced the past 6 months of 2020. Covid-19. Shuttering schools and closing businesses. Protesting and rioting. The threat of murder hornets and now 750 million genetically modified mosquitoes are about to be released in the Florida Keys. Hey, it’s 2020. What could possibly go wrong?

Storms come. We look around and only see the wind and waves. It appears that we are drowning. We are tempted to believe then that we are totally alone, without hope. It is easy for us to doubt that God is watching or caring or that he will do anything to save us. We can’t see God over the wind and waves.

That's what Peter must have been thinking that day. There he was with his mates being thrashed about by the wind and waves. The glow of successfully feeding well over 5,000 people with a few fish and loaves of bread is now overshadowed by the terror of this torrential storm. And sadly, when he and his fellow fisherman first see Jesus, they didn't think he was there to bless and to save. They were afraid of what unpleasantness his "ghostly" presence might mean for them.

They must have felt very small at that moment, totally at the whim of the waves in a boat insufficient for the task. And, deep down, they were probably also afraid that God himself was unaware of their trouble or even unconcerned about their plight.

Where do you put your hope and trust when you feel that all you can do is sink?

Author Phyllis Ten Elshof says that when she faced her fearful storm, when told of the return of a recurring breast cancer, she tried to get a hold of her fears on her terms, she first tried to find comfort in statistics.

She recalls that the lady in pink whispered to her as she wheeled Phyllis down the hall, “You’re gonna be okay. Eighty percent of breast lumps aren’t cancer.”

Phyllis writes, “I stifled a sigh. So far, statistics had not been in my favor. My breast lump, which was big enough to be seen by the naked eye, hadn’t shown up on a mammogram. Mammograms are only effective 80 percent of the time.

“The volunteer’s prediction wasn’t accurate, either; I did have breast cancer. So why, years after surviving a mastectomy and treatment for breast cancer, was I still drawn to survival statistics like a mosquito to a lamp?”

Phyllis continues, “The size of my lump plus five positive nodes drove down my five-year survival rate to less than 25 percent. What’s more, I, like so many other cancer survivors, had learned how senseless statistics were in forecasting survival. As one doctor said, ‘Maybe only 10 percent of patients with your type and stage of cancer are cured, but within that 10 percent, your odds are 0 percent or 100 percent.’

“So what drove me to statistics? Fear … cancer knocks us to the ground. We run to statistics (or the doctors that quote them) to ease our fears!”

Where do you go when you’re really afraid or when deep down you’re saying, “Lord Jesus, I’m scared. I’m nervous. I don’t have all the answers. I’m trying to live life to its fullest and I sometimes see it slipping away. I have felt at times like I’m walking on water, but more times I feel like I’m sinking fast. Jesus, what should I do when I’m really afraid?”

So, when you’re afraid, where do you put your trust? Do you trust the statistics for your cancer? Do you put your faith in the Care Center for your mother with dementia? Do you place your confidence in the medical professionals about this virus? Do you rely on the government authorities to do what’s best for you?

What if the statistics aren’t in your favor? What if your mother is having a bad day the same time her care worker is having a bad day? What if the medical professionals disagree with each other about this virus? What if the governing authorities aren’t interested in the best interests of Christians?

We can certainly use everything that God gives us to bless our lives – treatments, care centers, medical professionals and governing authorities. But we can’t put our full trust in them. They will always let us down. They are sinful people in a sinful world.

Eventually the wind and waves of these physical, emotional and spiritual storms will overcome us.

That’s why the words that Peter cries out as he begins to sink are the key to this text. As he began to sink, Peter cried out, “Lord, save me!”

We need to be crying out these words every day, “Lord, save me!” “Save me from my inborn sin. Save me from the sins I slip into. Save me from the sins I dive head-long into. Save me from my accidental sins and my pet sins. Save me from my fears and hate and anger and self-righteousness.”

“Extend your bloody, nail-pierced hands to grab hold of my hands. Apply your grace to my deliberate sins. Apply your mercy to my casual sins. Apply your forgiveness to my entire sorry, sinful life. Wash away all I’ve done wrong today. And yesterday. And tomorrow.”

Fellow drowning friends, it is our sins that are the wind and the waves that hammer us and cause us to drown in doubt and unbelief. Once we put our trust in Jesus to save us from our sins, then our cancer, our mother’s care, our angst over a virus, our obedience to governing authorities or anything else that trouble us are miniscule instead of mighty. It is our sins that will damn us for eternity. Once those sins are removed and we have our home in heaven secured, then whatever else is going on in this world are just ripples on the water.

Today, like Peter, we’re called to leave our fear and doubts behind. We’re called to remember again Who really is in control of all things. Faith is trusting that our life and salvation are God’s work. Faith is knowing that we are in Jesus’ nail-pierced hands. If Jesus has taken care of the wind and waves of eternity, then he will take care of the ripples of cancer and diseases and everything else in this lifetime. Only faith in Jesus can overthrow doubts and overcome fears.

Jesus spoke to them at once, saying, “Take heart! It is I! Do not be afraid.” Peter answered him and said, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Jesus said, “Come!” Peter stepped down from the boat, walked on the water, and went toward Jesus. But when he saw the strong wind, he was afraid. As he began to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand, took hold of him, and said to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”

When the statistics and medicines and people fail us; when real fear grips our hearts; when doubts in God’s care seize our minds; when we begin to see how vulnerable, we are … what then?

Know this. Know that fear does not incapacitate Jesus. It doesn’t stop him from saving you. The most powerful words in our text are “Lord, save me!” and “Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and took hold of him.”

So, to those of you who are afraid, personally confronted with some tragedy, evil, or crisis, listen. To those of you who are worried about our society is at and our local communities are headed, listen. To those of you battling doubts in your heart and mind, listen!

In the middle of our incapacitating fears, God acts!

The power of this Gospel text is that Jesus grabs a sinker. That means that he will grab you. His grip may not be for physical healing, but it will always be one of spiritual healing. He grip may not be about Grandma’s long-term healthcare, but it will always be about amazing grace. His grip may not be about viruses and vaccines, but it will always be about forgiveness and mercy. His grip may not be about governing authorities, but it will always be about his divine authority to rule all things for your eternal benefit.

On the cross of Jesus Christ, in the power of his resurrection from the dead, Jesus not only grabbed Peter and saved Peter, he grabbed and saved the world with his grasp of grace.  

He pays the ultimate price so that we can live confidently, even boldly through the storms of life, knowing that we will have a peaceful life one day that never ends.

Do you remember Phyllis Ten Elshof, the cancer patient, the one who found no comfort in statistics? Listen to what she finally concluded.

“So what drove me to statistics?” she said. “Perhaps it’s the kind of fear, the reality of cancer that knocks one to the ground. Still, rather than running to statistics (or the doctors that quote them) to ease our fears, we should trust in our Heavenly Father, who alone knows how long we will live.”

Storms come, fears come. It's that kind of world. But the juggernaut of the cross and the resurrection of Jesus Christ says that even in the most fearful of storms, they are temporary, they are momentary for all those who trust in the One Who comes for them with grace, and mercy, and peace.

Daily we will be confronted by the wind and waves of our sins and the sins of others, diseases and death, car payments and car crashes. But even non-Christians are confronted with those things. The difference for us as extraordinarily ordinary Christians is that when we see these winds and waves threatening to overcome us, all we need to do is cry out, “Lord, save me!” Amen.

“Blessed is the man who endures a trial patiently, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life, which God promised to those who love him.” (James 1:12). Amen.