WHEN FAITH BEGINS TO DRIFT

Scripture: Matthew 14:22 - 33; Romans 10:5 - 14

My pastor began his sermon by showing us the results of a recent Singapore Government survey on religion. One of the things that caught my attention was the dip in the proportion of people identifying themselves as Christians.

Should that concern us?

Perhaps our immediate response might be, “It doesn't concern me. I am a Christian, and that's all that matters.”

But does it?

I found myself thinking about that question.

Yes, I am a Christian. But what does being a Christian mean beyond the label? Is it enough that I have believed for many years, attended church, joined Bible studies and fellowships, served in church, and done all the things Christians are expected to do?

Or should there be something more?

Perhaps when we were younger, our faith was more fervent. We eagerly attended Bible studies, fellowship groups, cell groups, prayer meetings, and church activities. We wanted to learn more about God, serve Him, and be involved.

But what happens as we grow older?

Does our enthusiasm naturally diminish with age? Does it diminish because life becomes more complicated? Because worldly matters occupy more of our attention? Because disappointments have made us more cautious? Because some prayers have remained unanswered? Because our faith has been tested too many times? Or, perhaps more uncomfortably, have we simply drifted further from God without realising it?

WHERE ARE WE LOOKING?

Matthew 14 gives us a picture that is remarkably familiar. The disciples were in a boat when a storm arose. Jesus came towards them, walking on the sea. Peter, seeing Jesus, asked if he could come to Him. Jesus said, “Come.” And Peter stepped out of the boat.

Think about that.

Peter did something that was humanly impossible. He stepped into the storm because his eyes were on Jesus. For those few moments, the waves did not determine what Peter could do. Jesus did. Then Peter noticed the wind. His attention shifted from Jesus to the storm. And he began to sink. Was the storm suddenly stronger? No.

What changed was where Peter was looking. How often do we do the same? When life is going well, our faith can feel strong. We pray, worship, serve, and speak confidently about God. But then the storm comes - illness, disappointment, family problems, financial concerns, loneliness, ageing, loss, or unanswered prayer. Suddenly, the storm appears larger than the God whom we profess to trust.

Our circumstances have not changed who God is. But our circumstances can change what we see. 

Peter cried out, “Lord, save me!” And immediately Jesus reached out His hand. Peter's faith had faltered, but Jesus had not moved. That gives me hope. Perhaps the question is not whether storms will come. They will. The question is: Where will I look when they come?

WHAT IS IN OUR HEART?

Romans 10 takes this thought further. 

“For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.”

The heart and the mouth are connected. Paul is not talking about merely knowing the right Christian words or saying the things we have been taught to say. Genuine faith begins in the heart and finds expression through our confession.

What we truly believe should eventually become visible and audible. And this made me think of another familiar verse from Luke 6:45: “For out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.” That is rather sobering. Our mouths reveal what is occupying our hearts. 

When our hearts are filled with resentment, resentment comes out. When our hearts are filled with fear, fear comes out. When our hearts are consumed by worldly concerns, those concerns dominate our conversations. And when our hearts are increasingly filled with Christ, Christ should increasingly find His way into our words and our responses to life.

This does not mean that Christians must speak profound or theological words all the time. Nor does it mean that we can never complain, cry, become frightened, or admit that we do not understand.

Peter was frightened. But even in his fear, his mouth knew where to turn: “Lord, save me!” He did not cry out to the storm. He cried out to Jesus. 

Perhaps that is faith. Faith does not mean that we never struggle. It means that even in our struggle, we know where to turn.

DOES OUR FAITH HAVE AN EXPIRY DATE?

There is something uncomfortable about growing older in the faith. We can become familiar with Christianity without necessarily becoming deeper in Christ. 

We know the Bible stories. We know the worship songs. We know the Christian vocabulary. We know what we are supposed to say. But is our heart still burning? Has our dependence on God increased with the years, or have we quietly become more dependent on ourselves?

Perhaps our faith should not diminish according to our age or our circumstances. If anything, the passing years should teach us that God is more trustworthy than we ever imagined. We have seen Him carry us through things we once thought we could not survive. We have experienced His provision. We have seen prayers answered. We have also experienced prayers that appeared unanswered. And perhaps that too has taught us something important: Faith is not trusting God only when He gives us what we want. Faith is trusting Him because He is God, even when we do not understand what He is doing. Our circumstances should not determine the strength of our belief. God should determine how we see our circumstances.

WHAT COMES OUT OF OUR MOUTH?

This brings me back to Romans 10. If with the heart we believe and with the mouth we confess, then perhaps we should examine not only what we say about our faith, but what comes out of our mouths when life puts pressure on us.

If I say that God is my provider, but constantly speak as though everything depends entirely on me, what am I communicating? 

If I say that God is sovereign, but every crisis produces only despair and panic, what am I communicating?

If I say that I trust God, but I cannot forgive others, what am I communicating?

If I say that Christ has changed me, but people around me see no difference, what am I communicating? This does not mean we pretend that everything is fine when it isn't.

It means that even in our honesty, there should be evidence of where our trust lies.

We can say: “I don't understand what God is doing, but I still trust Him.”

“I am afraid, but I know God is with me.”

“I don't have the answer, but I know where to turn.”

“I am struggling, but I will not let go of God.”

These are not empty Christian phrases when they come from a believing heart.

They are confession.

They are testimony.

FAITH IS NOT MEANT TO BE KEPT TO OURSELVES

Romans 10 then takes us beyond ourselves. Paul asks: “How then will they call on Him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in Him of whom they have never heard?” That question is confronting.

If we are content to say, “I am a Christian and that's all that matters,” what happens to those who have never heard?

Someone once told us.

Someone prayed for us.

Someone invited us.

Someone opened the Bible and helped us understand.

Someone showed us what a life with Christ could look like.

Someone's testimony gave us a glimpse of what God could do.

We received.

But what are we doing with what we have received?

God has not given us His Word merely for us to keep it safely within the walls of the church. Nor has He given us faith so that we can bury it and simply wait for heaven. Jesus commanded His followers to “go and make disciples.”

Evangelism is therefore not restricted to pastors, missionaries, evangelists, or church workers. It belongs to all of us. We may not be gifted preachers. We may not know how to explain every doctrine. We may not have answers to every difficult question. But we have a story. We can tell people what we were like before Christ and what He is doing in us now. We can show people how we respond when life does not go according to plan. 

We can demonstrate forgiveness when others expect bitterness.

We can show peace when circumstances should have overwhelmed us.

We can continue trusting when the answer to prayer has not yet come.

We can face ageing without losing hope.

We can walk through suffering without losing God.

We can admit that we are afraid - and still say, “Lord, I trust You.”

That is testimony.

EVANGELISM BEGINS WITH A LIFE

Perhaps the most powerful evangelism is not always what we say. Sometimes it is what people see. They see how we handle the storm. They see whether we panic like everyone else or whether, even while trembling, we continue looking towards Jesus. They see whether our faith is merely something we profess on Sunday or something that sustains us on Monday. They see whether the Christ we speak about is actually reflected in the way we live.

We do not have to save people. That is God's work.

We do not have to manufacture conversion. That is the work of the Holy Spirit.

But we can create opportunities. We can listen. We can invite. We can pray. We can share. We can live differently. And when the opportunity comes, we can speak about Jesus.

Romans asks:

“How will they hear without someone preaching?”

Perhaps that “someone” is not necessarily someone standing behind a pulpit.

Perhaps it is us.

Our feet walking into a workplace.

Our feet walking into a neighbour's home.

Our feet walking alongside a friend.

Our feet walking through the storms of life.

WHAT HAS GOD ENTRUSTED TO US?

The Parable of the Talents in Matthew 25 reminds us that what the master entrusts to his servants is not meant to be buried. It is meant to be used faithfully.

Perhaps the same principle applies to our faith. We cannot bury our Bible. We cannot bury our testimony. We cannot bury what God has done in our lives. We cannot bury the hope that Christ has given us. What God has entrusted to us is meant to be lived, shared and multiplied. The question is not whether we have enough knowledge, enough confidence or enough ability. The question is whether we are willing to use what God has already given us.

HOW DO WE REKINDLE A FADING FAITH?

If we recognise that our enthusiasm has diminished, what do we do? We return.

Not merely to an activity.

Not merely to church attendance.

Not merely to another programme.

We return to Christ.

We open His Word again - not simply to complete another Bible study, but to hear what God is saying to us.

We pray - not merely asking God to change our circumstances, but asking Him to change our hearts.

We worship even when we do not feel like worshipping.

We fellowship with other believers so that we do not become isolated.

We serve, even when we feel we have little left to give.

And perhaps most importantly, we look up again.

Peter sank when he looked at the storm.

He was rescued when he cried out to Jesus.

The answer was never that there would be no storm.

The answer was Jesus Himself.

SHOULD THE SURVEY CONCERN US?

Perhaps the decline in the Christian proportion of our population should concern us - not because a statistic determines whether Christianity is true, but because behind every statistic is a person.

A neighbour.

A colleague.

A friend.

A family member.

A young person searching for meaning.

Someone who may have questions about God but has never found someone willing to listen.

Someone who may have heard about Christianity but has never encountered Christ.

What if God has placed some of these people in our lives precisely because we are the people who can introduce them to Him?

We do not need to become alarmed.

But perhaps we should become more awake.

More intentional.

More willing to speak.

More willing to live out what we say we believe.

LOOK UP

Peter's story does not end with him sinking. He cried out. Jesus reached out. And Peter learned something about himself - and something far greater about Jesus. 

Perhaps that is where some of us are today.

Maybe our faith has become quieter.

Maybe our enthusiasm has diminished.

Maybe the storms have distracted us.

Maybe worldly concerns have occupied too much of our vision.

Maybe we have become comfortable saying, “I am a Christian,” without asking whether our lives are actually pointing others towards Christ.

Then perhaps today is a good day to look up again.

Not at the statistics.

Not at our age.

Not at our limitations.

Not at the storm.

Look at Jesus.

And then ask:

Is my faith still alive?

Is what I say coming from what I truly believe in my heart?

When the storms come, where do I turn?

Am I still willing to step out of the boat?

Am I still willing to trust Him when I cannot see what lies ahead?

Am I still willing to tell others about the One who has carried me this far?

Because faith was never meant to be merely something we possess.

It is something we live.

And what God has entrusted to us is not meant to be buried.

The world needs to see Christ - not merely hear that we are Christians.

Perhaps the decline in a statistic should not frighten us.

Perhaps it should awaken us.

To look up.

To trust again.

To let what is in our hearts become visible in our words and our lives.

And to become people through whom others can hear and see the Good News of Jesus Christ.

by Jennifer Tan

President, Aglow International Singapore