ARE ADRENALINE JUNKIES BETTER CHRISTIANS?

Can you remember the last time you made a risky decision? You thought about it. You’ve imagined what could go wrong. You’ve calculated the cost. Maybe you’ve even asked friends what they think. And then comes that awkward and thrilling, maybe terrifying space between thinking about it and actually doing it. Your foot is hovering. The threshold is waiting. The water is deep. And suddenly, faith becomes very practical.

We often talk about faith as though it means being certain. As though faithful people have some special ability to know exactly how everything will turn out. But I don’t think that’s what faith is.
Faith isn’t knowing the outcome. Faith is trusting something, someone, perhaps God, enough to take the next step without fully knowing the outcome.

If you’re someone who is risk-averse, lets use our imagination to step into the sandals of one of Jesus’ disciples. It’s nighttime and your in somewhere on the Sea of Galilee. The wind is pushing the boat around. The waves are rough. You’re tired, cold, and probably wondering why God’s plans haven’t taken the poor weather into account. Then through the salt spray you see something approaching, a figure on the water. Naturally, you panic at this unnatural apparition until the familiar voice of Jesus calls out: “It’s me!” Don’t be afraid.”

And Peter, because Peter is Peter, responds with a question: “Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water.” Jesus says one word: “Come.” 

And Peter does something remarkable: he gets out of the boat. Peter simply puts his foot over the side.

For a few moments, he walks toward Jesus. Then he notices the wind. He becomes afraid and begins to sink. But Jesus catches him.
The interesting thing is that Jesus doesn’t criticize Peter for leaving the boat. Peter’s problem wasn’t that he took a risk.
His problem was that, once he was out there, he stopped looking at Jesus and started looking at the storm.

There is a version of Christianity that says, “If you really believe, take a leap of faith!”
But that’s not the full story. Peter didn’t jump into the water to prove how courageous he was.
He stepped out because Jesus told him to come. 

Faith isn’t making reckless decisions and then asking God to clean up the consequences.
Faith is responding to God’s invitation when obedience requires something from us.
Sometimes that means leaving something comfortable. Sometimes it means starting something new.

Sometimes it means having a difficult conversation. Sometimes it means forgiving someone.
Sometimes it means saying yes to a calling that makes us uncomfortable.
Sometimes it means stepping into a place where we can’t control the outcome.
And sometimes faith means staying exactly where we are while we ask and discern “Is Jesus calling me into this?”

Most of us would prefer a very specific kind of faith. The kind where God sends an email confirming the details.

Dear Rhoda,
Yes, this is definitely the right decision. Here are the next seven steps. Also, don’t worry—you will not experience any setbacks.
Sincerely,
God

Unfortunately, Scripture doesn’t seem particularly interested in providing that kind of faith.
Again and again, faith involves movement before certainty.
That’s uncomfortable because we live in a culture obsessed with minimizing risk.

We insure our homes. Back up our computers. Read the reviews. Check the return policy. Compare the options. Google the symptoms. Ask Reddit.
We want guarantees.

But following Jesus sometimes puts us in situations where guarantees aren’t available.
Peter couldn’t know that the wind would calm down. He couldn’t know exactly how many steps he would take.
He couldn’t know whether his friends would think he was ridiculous. He only knew one thing: Jesus had said, “Come.”

Perhaps the biggest risk in faith isn’t failing. Perhaps it’s never stepping out at all.
It’s possible to spend your entire life in the boat. The boat is safe. The boat is familiar. The boat has other people in it.
And nobody in the boat has to worry about sinking. But nobody in the boat gets to discover what happens when they trust Jesus beyond the familiar.

There are moments when faith asks us to move before we feel ready.
To love when protecting ourselves would be easier.
To serve when nobody is watching.
To speak when silence would be more comfortable.
To apologize when pride says we shouldn’t.
To begin when we don’t know exactly how it will end.
To trust when we desperately want certainty.

And perhaps that’s where faith becomes more than an idea. Because you can believe that water will hold you. But eventually, you have to put your foot over the side of the boat.

There is one more part of Peter’s story that I love. Peter sinks. He doesn’t become a biblical superhero who walks perfectly across the waves while the disciples applaud from the boat.
He gets scared. He loses focus. He goes under. And Jesus catches him.
Sometimes we hold back because we think God has no room for failure or expects us to get everything right. That’s not the case.

Faith isn’t confidence in our ability to walk on water. Faith is confidence in the One who can catch us when we sink.

Most of us know what it feels like to stand at the edge and most of us would say we don’t like it. Only 1 in 5 people are “thrill seekers” 

The rest of us worry and have to admit we’re not nearly as brave as we’d like to think.
Remember, Jesus’ invitation isn’t, “Come because you are fearless.” It’s simply: “Come.”
And sometimes faith is nothing more—and nothing less—than taking the next step.
Not because you know what will happen. But because you know who you’re walking toward.