When Having Faith Means Crying Out: Matthew 14:22-36

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ufY46mk7QrE

We Title This Story Wrong

For those of us who know this story, we know it by the title Peter Walking on the Water. However, this is a misleading title because the climax of this story, of this passage, is not Peter walking on the water. It’s Jesus saving Peter from drowning in the water.

And how we title this story shows us something about all of us: that we really like to put on our rose-colored glasses when we tell ourselves the stories of our lives.

Because most of the time, life for me at least feels more like sinking than it does walking on water.

I can tell you the hardest two years of my life was when my family and I lived in Mobile. And I would tell you it was because running a business was hard or I had to deal with a lot of hard-headed people and clients, but really it was because I was searching for fulfillment and finding none. I would not admit to myself that I was sinking.

And Peter did something that took me a long time to learn: that the moment Peter started sinking, he cried three words—“Lord, save me.”

And it took me years to finally come to that point because I would just keep trucking on, that I just pretended I could swim and do it all on my own.

It wasn’t until we moved to Graysville when I was days, maybe even hours, from being consumed by the pressures of life and drowning in the sea that I definitely could not swim in much longer. And finally, I cried out three words of my own: “Lord, use me.”

And it was when I let go and learned from Peter finally that there’s going to be waters that I’m not going to be able to overcome and winds that are going to blow way too hard for me to stand on my own.

So today we’re going to learn that lesson of rather than spending years pretending we can swim, learning from Peter of not only when to step out but also when to cry for help.

So let’s stop pretending we can swim and trust in the one who will help us walk on the water.

“Little Faith” Is Still Faith

So we look at this and like, well Austin—Jesus tells Peter, even though he did cry out (because we like to commend him by titling it Peter walking on the water, and I just again commended him at least for crying out)—that Peter had little faith. Jesus told him so.

Well that’s the good news about Jesus: that we don’t have to have this massive, untouchable, unshakable faith. We just need a little bit. We need a tiny bit.

Because even though Jesus told Peter and the disciples, “You of little faith,” Peter still walked on the water at least a few steps, and Jesus still calmed the storm.

So we can go through life and be a little scared. We can admit we’re terrified. We can admit we’re fearful, sad, depressed, even grieved, worried. We can feel all those things.

But the important part is that when we do—rather than holding on on our own and trying to swim and push through those things—we cry out the moment we recognize them. Not years later like I did. But in that moment like Peter did.

Jesus Shows Up Differently Than We Expect

And a lot of the times, just like the disciples did, they were really hoping—at least probably in the back of their minds—that Jesus was going to show up at some point. Like, you know, he’s kind of healed some people. I know he’s not on the land, but he’s done some crazier things by this point. Maybe, maybe Jesus will handle this for us.

Or at least they were at least praying to God at this point. They were good Jewish men. So in the middle of the seas, as they were straining with all their might, we can imagine them praying, crying out to God, wanting God to show up and calm the storm.

And he did—but it just wasn’t the way they expected. It was so unexpected they did not recognize Jesus at first.

And that can happen a lot in our lives because we just want Jesus and God to calm the storm. We just want to cry out and immediately the clouds fade away, the seas turn to glass, and we can even hear maybe a few birds singing.

But most of the time that’s not the case. Most of the time in our lives, just like how Jesus did in this story before the storm gets calmed, Jesus comes and stands on the waves in the midst of it.

That rather than fixing it all at once, we have to trust in his presence in the midst of the chaos, in the midst of the winds, in the midst of the waves. That everything else is probably gonna still seem crazy, but we can know that our God is the one who surfs all the waves and the one who is going to reach out immediately when we allow him to.

Step Out vs. Cry Out

So, what does it look like for us to cry out? What does it look like? Maybe in most of the other sermons you’ve heard, to step out of the boat? When do we do which?

Well, the important thing to know is this: that it’s not so much of where you are. It’s not as important to know whether you’re in or out of the boat, but knowing where your eyes are.

Because Peter shows us the most crucial lesson: that he successfully walked on the water while his eyes were focused on Jesus.

And Jesus even called him out of the boat. Why? Well, because Jesus was focused on him. Yeah, there was still a little doubt there. There’s a little fear as we see in Peter’s question of, “Hey Lord, if it’s really you, tell me to come out.”

Jesus says come. Jesus doesn’t say that’s bad. We can do maybe—let’s not—so it’s not passing out the fleece and testing God. It’s admitting: God, I’m scared. God, I’m worried. But if it’s you, I’ll come.

If it’s you, I’ll keep moving on another day. If it’s you—if you’re there—if you’re the one giving me this peace beyond all understanding in this moment, it’s not just my wishful thinking—I’ll keep on moving.

That’s what Peter is doing here. It’s not testing God. It’s not passing out the fleece. It’s Peter in this moment of weakness admitting that and saying, “And if it’s you, I’ll come.”

And Jesus responds, “Come on then.”

And Peter does it anyways. He steps out into the chaos and confusion of life, out of his comfort zone, and trusts with his eyes on Jesus.

It’s where his focus was in this entire story that’s important, because it’s only when Peter takes his eyes off Jesus that he begins to sink.

That as long as he is focused on Jesus, he was okay. Even when he was in the most chaotic of situations—standing on the actual ocean in the middle of a storm—he was okay.

But most of us will try to trust the boat more than we trust Jesus.

That most of us will try to continue doing it on our own, being like the disciples, and straining ahead with all our might, but going nowhere—never even taking the time to look up to see where Jesus might be in this situation.

And while they were afraid and while they were terrified, at least Peter had just enough faith to trust Jesus to get out of the boat.

And more importantly, when he started sinking—like we will all do—he cried out rather than waited.​

What This Looks Like in Real Life

So to step out, what that might look like for us is: find something that gets you out of your comfort zone in your week to week. Don’t stay in the regular everyday routine, but go find how to be a part of something in the community, in the county even.

Rather than staying at home when you don’t feel like it—when you just would rather sit on the couch—find somewhere, some way to go interact with people.

Or maybe if you feel like you’re out of the boat, but you’re sinking—admit it.

And you can do that by having a conversation with a friend and talking about that life’s really hard. I’m not going to tell you it’s good when it’s not.

And of course we take these things to God, but he’s given us our church family for a reason. And he wants us to walk side by side with one another through it as well.

So if you feel like you’re in the boat—trusting yourself more, not even willing to take the first step—that’s what you need to do first.

But if it feels like, I don’t even know where I’m at, but I feel like I’m sinking, then start with admitting that—recognizing: I can’t do this on my own. I can’t save myself, and I need Jesus and someone else here with me in the storm to get through this.

Start Every Day With This Question

And as you’re doing this with God in your day-to-day, if you feel like you’re just—if you’re like, I’m just so disoriented right now, all I know is I’m in the storm—how you can start every day is asking:

“Hey God, what do you want for me today?”

Life is crazy. It’s chaotic. It’s hard. I have three different doctors tell me four different things. My finances are a little shaky. And really, I just don’t know what to do.

Everything might seem good, but the storm you’re dealing with is: I just don’t know what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do every day.

No matter which of those situations you’re in, no matter what your storm looks like, you can take to God every morning this simple question: What do you want for me today?

Where do you want me to go? What do you want me to do? Start there.

And then whatever anxiety you have about the day—normally that’s the first thing we wake up with.

If I’m worried about finances, for some reason, in the times of my life where those were very slim, that was the first thing I thought about. And I would make myself—rather than going to check my bank accounts—I started with: “Hey God, you own a cattle on a thousand hills. You’re my provider, you’re my protector, you’re going to carry me through.”

I started with crying out when I felt those waters of anxiousness and anxiety start to come up, rather than: let me go look at my bank account. Let me do all the numbers. Let me see the spending for the rest of the month.

That’s all important, but start with crying out. Start with handing all that over to God.

Because while there’s definitely some things you can do to make specifically the financial situation better, there’s going to be other times of your life where there’s nothing you can do no matter how much you try.

And rather than asking, “How do I control this situation? How do I swim in this situation?” let’s ask: Where is Jesus in this situation?

Have I invited him in, or is he standing on the waves of this storm waiting for me to cry out?

Honest Faith Sounds Like David

I love how David says in Psalm chapter 13 verse 1, “How long, oh Lord, will you forget me forever?”

That’s what honest faith looks like.

In the middle of this, we can take this to God and cry out those emotions we feel like, oh, we need to keep to ourselves because that’s not faithful. No—God wants our honest faith.

That faith is not acting like life is always good.

It’s believing God is always good, even when life is not.

A Chaplain’s Cry

There’s a man, a chaplain in the army named Robert Benimoff—and this was from a 2007 Newsweek article.

This chaplain was deployed to Iraq twice with a combat squad. And he saw horrific suffering: decapitated bodies, his friends, his comrades killed by snipers and suicide bombers.

And after each attack, he said he’d have his fellow soldiers come to him and say, “If I’m a child of God, why isn’t he protecting me?”

And as the good chaplain Robert was, he thought of and shared Isaiah 54:10: “Though the mountains shake, my unfailing love will never be shaken.”

However, Robert couldn’t reconcile that verse and all the other ones he had memorized about God’s unfailing love with what he was seeing.

He wrote that: "I’m doing more memorial services than preaching. I feel numb."

And after another memorial service, in his journal, he wrote: “I don’t feel like giving myself to God. God, please change my desire.”

In that story, we see Robert struggle—but we also see his faith in crying out.

He said years later that even in this crisis of faith, even in the times he wanted nothing to do with God, he still had faith. Why? Because he held on to God’s hand even when he felt himself slipping.

So Robert shows us, and Peter shows us, and David shows us what honest faith is: that even when we’re terrified, as long as we keep our eyes on Jesus—no matter where we are, no matter what the situation is—and cry out, whether that be of terror, doubt, fear, suffering… that’s honest faith.

Fix Your Eyes on Jesus

Hebrews chapter 12 verses 2 and 3 tell us: "Looking only at Jesus, the originator and the perfector of the faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God, consider him who has endured such hostility by sinners against himself so that you will not grow weary and lose heart."

Jesus, the Son of God, had perfect faith. But on the night of his arrest, we hear him ask God, “If there’s another way, please do it.”

And Jesus was so torn and stricken in this moment, he sweated blood.

And then the chilling—bone chilling—cry on the cross: “Ilama Shabbaktani, my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

If Jesus was able to cry out to God in those moments, and he was willing to do that, then why don’t we?

Because Jesus is the perfect high priest. It tells us in Hebrews 4:15 he understands our earthly suffering.

He’s not a God who does not understand your pain. He understands. Why? Because he has experienced your pain. But he has overcome your pain and your suffering.

That’s why he wants you to cry to him—because he understands, and he has overcome.

Jesus promises not a life of bliss and ease, but in John 16:33 he says, in this life you will have trouble, but take heart, for I have overcome the world.

Using the illustration of the story of Peter drowning, almost drowning, anyways: Jesus allowed himself to be consumed by the sea of chaos and destruction, which we call death, so you could stand on the waves.

But he didn’t stay consumed by death. He did not stay dead. He also rose from the bottom of that ocean and overcame the waves.

Now sitting at the right hand of God and forever, Jesus has the power over the waves and the wind of our lives. No matter how big and no matter how hard—Jesus has overcome.

Don’t Do the Storm Alone

So we start with taking it to God, and then we take it to others, because James 5:16 tells us that if we confess our sins to one another, we will be healed.

And sins in this context doesn’t just mean the things we do wrong—which we need to share. We need to share what sins are entangling our lives, but also the effects of living in a world where sin still exists.

When we suffer from sickness, anxiety, depression, sadness, worry, fear—all of those things—we need to confess those things to one another as well.

Because Jesus created his church so you didn’t have to do life alone in pursuit of him.

Fear Is Not Failure

So where does that leave us?

Well, we started our time together with talking about how we mistitle this story of Peter walking on the water because the climax is Peter almost drowning and needing to call Jesus to pull him out.

And we talked about how we do that with our own stories in life—that we like to celebrate our brief moments of courage when we looked strong and good, and tuck away those times where we looked weak and feeble.

But fear is not failure.

Actually, when we’re in those times of fear—of terror, even like the disciples—this is when genuine faith shows up: when we have the faith to cry out.

Because a faith untested is really no faith at all. It’s only when we experience these times where we’re scared, where we’re fearful, that we get to know: do we really believe what we say? Or when push comes to shove, is life really all about us?

When push comes to shove, do we trust ourselves more to swim than God to save us from the water?

We would never know whether we had true faith or not if storms never came.

And that’s why in Psalms chapter 23 it starts with: “He leads me beside still waters. My cup runneth over. Life is beautiful.” Beautiful picture.

It’s only after the green pastures where David says, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil.”​

That paths of righteousness do not lead us around the valley of the shadow of death, but through them.

And the hope of that verse is not escape from enemies. It’s a feast in the midst of them.

That Jesus shows up in the midst of our pains and of our struggles. He doesn’t just magically make them go away. He gets us through.

And that’s why our hope is not the absence of storms, but it’s the one who immediately reaches out when we call for help and pulls us up from the raging waves.