What About Faith?

Faith is a word we use often, yet it is one that deserves careful thought. As we journey through 2 Peter 1:1-11 in this series of articles  — this being the first — we will think not only about having faith, but about what it means for faith to grow — and for us to grow because of it.

The writer of Hebrews gives us a helpful starting point. Faith, he tells us, is “the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). It is the quiet confidence that what God has promised is real, even when it cannot yet be seen. By faith, God’s people have always understood that the visible world itself rests on the invisible word of God (Hebrews 11:3).

But faith is not merely something we possess; it is something that moves us. Hebrews goes on to describe the Christian life as a race — one run with endurance, focus, and intention. Surrounded by the faithful who have gone before us, we are called to lay aside what weighs us down and to fix our eyes on Jesus, “the author and finisher of our faith” (Hebrews 12:1–3). Faith looks forward, but it also presses on.

If faith comes by hearing the word of God (Romans 10:17), and if without faith it is impossible to please Him (Hebrews 11:6), then a natural question arises: What does genuine faith lead us to do?

The earliest Christians provide one answer. After obeying the gospel, they devoted themselves to teaching, fellowship, worship, and prayer (Acts 2:42). Their faith was not passive. It shaped how they lived, how they worshiped, and how they related to one another.

Peter echoes this idea when he describes faith as the beginning point of a life meant to grow. In his second letter, he urges believers to add to their faith a series of qualities — virtue, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness, and love. These qualities are not meant to remain theoretical. Peter says that when they are present and increasing, they keep us from being barren or unfruitful in our knowledge of Jesus Christ. When they are absent, something has been forgotten — something essential.

That thought invites honest reflection. Where do we see ourselves in this progression? Are we still at the beginning, regardless of how long we have been part of the church? Are we somewhere along the way but no longer moving forward? Or perhaps we have stopped asking whether our faith is still growing at all.

I can say, without hesitation, that there have been seasons in my own life when I became shortsighted — forgetting that I had been cleansed from my past sins, forgetting that I was bought at a price (1 Corinthians 6:19–20). It is surprisingly easy to become so absorbed in the demands of the present moment that eternal realities fade into the background.

Have you ever felt that tension? Have there been times when the urgency of daily life made it easy to forget that our true home is not here, and that our lives have been surrendered to God for His purposes?

Some years ago, these thoughts led me to consider what I began calling “the Unavoidable Jesus.” The idea grew out of a series of simple questions. Do I truly understand that my life is not my own? Have I embraced the truth that I have been crucified with Christ? Is my life hidden with Him in God? Am I living as a sacrifice, set apart for His will? Am I, in practical ways, still adding to my faith?

If these things are true, then shouldn’t Christ’s presence in my life be evident?

There were times when I had to admit that my faith appeared stronger in theory than in practice. And in thinking through that, I became clearer about what I do — and do not — want. I am not interested in being seen merely as a devoted Christian. I am not interested in imposing my convictions on others. I am really not interested in being noticed at all.

What I desire is far simpler and far deeper: that when people encounter me, they encounter Jesus. I want His influence to be unmistakable, not because of what I say about myself, but because of what His presence produces.

How does that happen? Not by obsessing over the outcome, but by attending faithfully to the daily work of making room for Christ. Growth does not come from endless planning alone. Even God’s plans require action. Noah did not build the ark by just repeatedly studying its design; he built it by taking up the first piece of lumber and trusting God with the rest.

God has already given us His plan. Our task is to live it — to apply His will and allow His power to work through us. When that becomes the rhythm of our lives, Paul’s words cease to be poetic and become deeply personal. He writes:

“I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me” (Galatians 2:20).

In the articles ahead, we will take a closer look at the qualities Peter urges us to add to our faith. My hope is that this journey will draw us closer to the Lord — and closer to one another in Him.

I look forward to walking that path together.