First Baptist Church Litchfield
February 22, 2026

      • Psalm 34:1–3ESV

  • His Mercy Is More
  • To God Be The Glory

      • Psalm 34:4–7ESV

  • Lord I Lift Your Name On High
  • How Great Thou Art

  • When the Crowd Wants a Political Messiah

    There are moments in history when the church feels the pull of political momentum. When cultural tides begin to shift, when moral concerns rise to the surface, when national identity feels threatened, Christians naturally begin to ask what role faith should play in shaping the future of a nation.
    In recent years, what many are calling “Christian Nationalism” has gained increasing attention. For some, it is the hope of restoring moral order through political power. For others, it is the fear that the church is confusing the kingdom of God with the kingdoms of this world. However one defines it, the conversation reveals something deeper: many believers are wrestling with how closely the name of Christ should be tied to national identity and political ambition.
    Now hear me carefully. Christians should care about justice. Christians should care about truth. Christians should care about the laws of the land and the flourishing of their communities. Scripture commands us to pray for kings and all in authority. We are not called to withdraw from society.
    But there is a subtle danger, and it is not patriotism. I absolutely love our country, and I think a certain degree of nationalism is appropriate. The danger is that we might begin to love a version of Jesus who serves our country more than we love Jesus as Lord over all nations.
    That temptation is not new.
    In Matthew 14, the disciples have just participated in the feeding of the five thousand. The crowd is electrified. According to John’s Gospel, they are ready to take Jesus by force and make Him king (John 6:15). A political revolution seems within reach. You can feel the momentum is building in the text. The kingdom appears ready to arrive on the crowds terms.
    And what does Jesus do?
    He makes His disciples get into a boat and sends them away.
    Why?
    Because their view of Him is too small. They are ready for a political Messiah. But He is the eternal Son of God. They are ready for national restoration. But He has come for cosmic redemption. They want a throne in Jerusalem. He will be crucified on a cross outside the city, rise three days later, and ascend to his heavenly throne.
    Sometimes the greatest danger to the church is not persecution from the outside, but confusion about the nature of Christ’s kingdom from within.
    Matthew 14:22–36, is not merely a story about a storm and a disciple who steps out in faith. It is a revelation of who Jesus truly is. And it confronts every generation with the same question:
    Do we want a Christ who advances our agenda, or do we worship the Son of God who rules the wind, the waves, and calms the raging seas? Because the storm that follows will strip away political dreams and reveal something far greater than earthly kingship. For this reason,

    Jesus withdraws His disciples from political confusion to reveal through sovereign power that He is not merely a political king, but the divine Son of God.

    This morning Matthew will show us how Jesus reveals himself as the Son of God to his confused disciples in three movements.

    I. Jesus Disrupts Their Political Expectations (14:22–24)

    John 6:15 tells us the crowd intended to take Jesus by force and make Him king. The disciples were not immune to that excitement. They had just distributed bread to thousands. They had felt the electricity of the moment. This was the kind of miracle that could ignite a revolution. Rome could be viably challenged. Israel could be restored to its former glory. The kingdom could begin now.
    But Jesus “made” the disciples get into the boat. Matthew uses the strong verb ἠνάγκασεν. He compelled them. He constrained them. He was not giving them a suggestion. As their Good Shepherd, He was forcefully removing them from a dangerous temptation.
    Why such urgency?
    Because Jesus knew their hearts. They were ready for a Messiah who would conquer Rome, establish national glory, and vindicate Israel before the nations. They were ready for a political deliverer.
    But that version of Jesus is far too small.
    Jesus did not come to earth to be a political ruler over one nation. He is not a regional king with limited authority. He is the eternal Son of God who reigns over heaven, earth, and even hell itself. He does not exist to fulfill nationalistic dreams. All nations exist under His sovereign rule.
    Keeping this reality in mind, let Matthew 14:22 press into our current cultural climate.
    Christian nationalism, and really any political ideology, becomes dangerous when we begin to see Jesus primarily as the champion of our cultural tribe. When we subtly reshape Him into a defender of our system, our party, or our national identity, we are not exalting Him. We are shrinking Him to conform to our political and cultural box.
    The temptation is not that we love our country. The temptation is that we may love a version of Jesus who serves our country more than we love Jesus as Lord over all nations.
    But Jesus will not be weaponized for our kingdoms.
    So in mercy, He separates His disciples from the frenzy. He shepherds them away from a false expectation before it hardens into settled unbelief.
    In verse 23, notice the contrast of Jesus with the sons of Adam. Earthly kings seize popularity. Fallen rulers exploit momentum. They gather crowds and consolidate power. But Jesus withdraws to pray. He is not hungry for applause. He is hungry to His Father’s will (John 4:34). His kingdom will not be built through coercion but through obedience, and ultimately through the cross.
    Once Jesus gets the disciples into the boat, He sends them into a storm. Do not miss Jesus’ intentionality. Jesus sent them there. The sea did not surprise Him. The storm did not frustrate His plan. The seas hostility was intentional. It was an opportunity to reorient the disciples hearts.
    Why?
    Because their view of Him was still insufficient.
    He had taught them with words. He had shown them with miracles. But now their political ambitions must be stripped away. To do this, Jesus has to put them in a very uncomfortable situation so fear can expose what they truly believe about Him.
    Sometimes Jesus sends us into circumstances that shake our confidence in systems and leaders so that we are forced to ask: Who is really King?
    Martin Luther faced a similar circumstance at the Diet of Worms in 1521. For years he had written and taught about justification by faith. But when he stood before emperor and church authorities, theology became personal. Political calculations could have saved his life. Compromise could have preserved influence.
    Instead, he declared:
    “Unless I am convinced by the testimony of the Scriptures or by clear reason… I am bound by the Scriptures I have quoted and my conscience is captive to the Word of God. I cannot and I will not recant anything… Here I stand. I can do no other. God help me. Amen.” Martin Luther
    The storm did not punish Luther. It clarified his allegiance.
    Christ was not a political tool. He was Lord of Luther’s conscience and King above emperors and popes.
    That is what Jesus is doing with the disciples. The sea will reveal whether they believe in a manageable Messiah who advances national dreams, or the sovereign Son of God who rules creation itself.
    And when Jesus allows storms to unsettle our political hopes, I don’t think He is not punishing us. I think He is rescuing us from reducing Him to something smaller than He truly is. What He is about to reveal will be far greater than earthly kingship.

    II. Jesus Reveals His Divine Identity in the Storm (14:25–33)

    Sometime between 3am and 6am, Jesus walks on the sea (v. 25). Job 9:8 says God “trampled the waves of the sea.” Psalm 77:19 says God’s path was through the sea. Jesus is exercising his divine prerogative. Only God walks on water. More than that, only God walks on water as the seas rage beneath Him.
    Understandably, in verse 26,“…when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, “It is a ghost!” and they cried out in fear.” In antiquity, it was popularly believed that the sea was the home of evil spirits, so they probably believed that it was a ghost that meant to harm them. Their fear exposes their confusion. They know this is supernatural, but they do not yet grasp who He is. It does not dawn on them that what they see could be the same Jesus they left on the shore. Once again, this reveals their heart. In their eyes, Jesus was special. He was a great prophet. He could be a powerful King for Israel. But he was not the divine Son of God. Jesus was about to change that.

    Revealed Glory: “I AM” in the Storm

    In verse 27, Jesus says, “Be of good courage. Do not fear. Don’t worry. Lenski notes this verb means to have confidence and firmness of purpose in the face of danger or testing. Why? Jesus answer, “I AM.
    Jesus’ response in verse 27 literally says, “take heart, I AM.”
    We first learn of I AM in Exodus 3:14. When Moses asked God His name at the burning bush, God replied, “I AM WHO I AM.” And He said, “Say this to the people of Israel: ‘I AM has sent me to you.’” The name reveals God as self-existent, eternal, uncreated, and independent. He is not becoming. He is not derived. He simply is.
    Throughout the Old Testament, this divine name is tied to God’s covenant faithfulness and sovereign authority. Isaiah 43:10 records the Lord saying, “Before me no god was formed, nor shall there be any after me.” In Isaiah 41:4, He declares, “I, the LORD, the first, and with the last; I am he.” The language echoes the same divine self-existence.
    When we come to the New Testament, in John 8:58, Jesus says, “Before Abraham was, I am.” He does not say, “I was.” He says, “I am.” The response of the crowd immediate and violent. They know the name, so such so, they refuse to say it out loud. They pick up stones to stone Him for blasphemy. They understood He was claiming the divine name.
    In John 18:5–6, when soldiers come to arrest Him and He says, “I am he,” they draw back and fall to the ground. Even in His arrest, the divine name carries authority.
    So when Jesus says in Matthew 14:27, “Take heart; I am,” in the midst of the storm, he is reveling hie is more than the peoples political messiah. The One walking on the sea, the One whom Job 9:8 says alone “trampled the waves of the sea,” is identifying Himself with the covenant name of God.
    “I AM” means He is the eternal, self-existent, sovereign Lord. He is not merely present in the storm. He is Lord over it. And that changes everything. Jesus is speaking covenantal presence. This a big problem for the disciples. The wind and waves and the storm are not their biggest problem. Their greatest concern in that moment is their shallow understanding of the Son of God, the King of Kings, the Christ, the true Savior of the world.
    When I was a child, I loved riding in my parents’ conversion van. It had captain seats in the middle that could turn around with a little table between them. We would play games as we traveled. At night, I could stretch out on the floor and fall asleep.
    Sometimes, while we were driving, a storm would roll in. The rain would pound the windshield. The wind would shake the van. Lightning would split the sky. From my perspective as a child, everything felt unstable. Everything felt out of control.
    But then I would remember, my father was the one driving.
    The storm had not changed. The wind was still blowing. The rain was still falling. But everything felt different because of who was in control.
    That is the difference between believing “Jesus is near” and confessing “Jesus is Lord.”
    When Jesus says, “I AM,” He is not merely assuring the disciples of His presence. He is declaring His eternal, self-existent, sovereign authority. He is not riding out the storm alongside them as a fellow passenger. He rules the storm.
    The disciples’ greatest problem was not the wind. It was their blindness to who was driving history.
    And that is where political ideologies, including Christian nationalism, can subtly mislead us.
    When cultural storms rise, when nations feel unstable, when moral confusion spreads, we can begin looking for visible control. We can begin placing our emotional security in systems, elections, movements, or platforms. We start scanning the horizon for the right leader to steady the vehicle.
    But the question is not who is in the White House. The White House changes every four years, and who knows what kind of leadership we will get to lead us. The deeper question is who is on the throne.
    If Christ is merely near, an influence, a moral guide, a helpful ally to our political goals, we will panic when the winds of change and the storms of political upheaval rise. But if Christ is Lord, sovereign over nations, kings, storms, and history itself, we can rest even when the rain pounds hard and the waves beat against us.
    The storm reveals whether our trust is ultimately in a political arrangement or in the eternal “I AM.”
    And often, our greatest fear is not the waves around us, but the smallness of our view of Christ above us. Jesus calls this little faith.

    Exposed Weakness: Little Faith in a Great Savior

    In verses 28-31, Peter sees what’s going on and responds to Jesus. He puts his teacher to the test: “And Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water. (v28)”” Jesus welcomes Peter’s faith. In verse 29, Jesus said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus.” Give Peter credit. Peter does what no other prophet or disciple has ever done. He walked on water with Jesus. Peter had the faith to step out of the boat. And for a brief moment, Peter’s faith sustained him as the sea raged beneath him. But then, his faith weakened. The great faith he had to get out of the boat became little faith, a little faith Matthew describes as distracted, unbelieving, ineffective, but saving faith.

    Distracted faith

    In verse 30, Peter took his eyes off of Jesus and began to focus on the wind. He became distracted. He let the circumstances that afflicted him to become bigger than Jesus who ordained and ruled over his circumstances.
    A few weeks ago, in chapel at LCS, I spoke about a tightrope walker who stretched a cable across Niagara Falls. Crowds gathered to watch him walk from one side to the other. After crossing successfully, he asked the crowd if they believed he could do it again while pushing a wheelbarrow. They cheered with confidence. Then he asked, “Who will get in?” No one got in the wheel barrel.
    Believing he could do it and trusting him with your life are two different things.
    Peter stepped out of the boat because he believed Jesus could sustain him. But when he shifted his focus from Christ to the wind, he became distracted faith. The waves did not grow stronger. His confidence in Christ grew smaller.
    This is our battle as well. We confess that Jesus is sovereign. We affirm that He rules over our circumstances. But when distractions come like: relationships that are not healthy, conflicts with family or friend groups intensifies especially over politics, demands at work, when the finances tighten, or even well intended political party agenda’s, and we take our eyes off of Jesus and begin to stare at the wind.
    The issue is not that the storm we find ourselves in is overwhelmingly powerful. The issue is that we allow the storm to become larger in our imagination than the Savior who ordained it. God honoring Spirit empowered faith fixes its gaze on Christ. Distracted faith magnifies the wind. Where are your eyes?

    Unbelieving faith

    As soon as Peter looks at the wind, he becomes afraid (v30). It is genuine fear, but it is not the fear of the Lord. He fears what the storm can do to him. He mistakenly thinks the waves and the wind decide if he lives or dies. He forgets that Jesus called him out of the boat into the water. Jesus sustained him while he was walking on the water. None of that was his effort. No human being can stand on water of their own accord. Even as Peter was sinking, Jesus only let him go so far. Peter lost sight of who was really in control. He stopped believing the power and authority and sufficiency of Jesus.
    A soldier in battle may fear the sound of gunfire more than he trusts the command of his captain. In that moment, he forgets that he is not the one determining the outcome of the battle. The authority rests with the one giving orders, not with the noise around him. Peter feared the noise of the storm more than he trusted the voice that called him out of the boat.
    Fear becomes sinful when we treat circumstances (protest, social unrest, elections, campaigns) as sovereign. The wind does not decide your future. The waves do not determine your lifespan. Christ does.
    Peter did not begin sinking because Jesus lost control. He sank because he lost sight of who was in control. The question for us is simple: Do we fear the storm more than we trust the Savior who ordained it?

    Ineffective faith

    As Peter began to sink, he realized he could not save himself. Peter was helpless, which is the perfect place to be. It was in his helplessness he realized his effort to save himself was ineffective. He could put no faith into his own clever ideas or wit. The only thing he could do is cry out to Jesus.
    If you know anything about lifeguarding, you will know that when a lifeguard sees someone drowning, he pauses and waits until the swimmer stops thrashing. As long as the drowning person is fighting to save himself, he endangers both of them. But the moment he surrenders in helplessness, rescue becomes possible.
    Peter had to feel the water rising before he stopped trusting himself. For Peter, and for us, helplessness is not the enemy of faith. It is the doorway to it.
    Peter did not cry out, “Let me try harder.” He cried out, “Lord, save me.” And that is the prayer Jesus delights to answer. The moment we stop believing in our own strength is often the moment we finally see the sufficiency of Christ.

    Saving faith

    In verse 31, Jesus hears Peter’s cry and immediately responds. Matthew writes, “Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him.” There is no hesitation. No delay. The Savior who sent him into the storm is the same Savior who rescues him from it.
    Peter was sinking, but he had enough faith to know where to turn. He could not save himself. His only hope was Christ. And Jesus honored even that trembling, imperfect faith.
    Yes, there is a gentle rebuke. “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” But the rebuke comes after the rescue. Jesus saved his correction for after he showed compassion. Jesus does not shame Peter in the water. He secures him first.
    The rebuke is not harsh condemnation. It is a loving reminder: there is never a reason to doubt the Son of God. His arm is never too short to save. His authority is never diminished by the storm. His heart is always tender toward the helpless and broken.

    From Fear to Worship: The Confession of the Son of God (v.33)

    And this is the gospel sweetness of the moment: everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved. You will not be saved because your faith is perfect, but because the One whom you are crying out, “Lord Save Me!” is perfect.
    He was perfect in heaven before He ever came. The eternal Son did not become something less when He took on flesh in Mary’s womb. He added humanity without surrendering His deity. He lived the life we failed to live; a life of perfect obedience, flawless righteousness, and unwavering submission to the Father.
    And because His righteousness was perfect, His sacrifice was sufficient.
    When He went to the cross, He did not die as a victim of politics or circumstance. He died as a substitute. In your place. Under the wrath your sin deserved. He bore judgment fully and completely. And the Father proved His acceptance of that sacrifice by raising Him from the dead.
    Now that same perfect righteousness is credited to all who confess their sin, repent, and place their trust in Jesus Christ: the Son of God, the Son of David, the Lamb who takes away the sins of the world, as their Savior from the wrath of God.
    You will not be saved because your faith is strong. You will be saved because your Savior is sufficient.
    Repent. Believe. Be saved.
    That is why the climactic confession in verse 33 matters: “Truly you are the Son of God.” That is the right response to Jesus. There is no political enthusiasm in that boat. There no cultural alignment among the disciples. It was pure Christ-honoring awe-inspiring Worship.
    And Matthew does not stop with worship in the boat. He shows us what happens when the Son of God steps onto land.

    III. Jesus Demonstrates the Kingdom that Political Kings Cannot Produce (14:34–36)

    When they arrive in Gennesaret, Matthew says the men of that place recognized Him (v. 35). Notice the contrast. Earlier the crowd wanted to seize Him and make Him king. Here there is no coronation attempt. No political movement. Instead, word spreads.
    What think would follow is a revolution. Instead, Matthew records a healing revival.
    They bring the sick. They beg to touch the fringe of His garment. And Matthew tells us, “as many as touched it were made well.” This echoes Malachi 4:2, that the Sun of Righteousness would rise with healing in His wings. Matthew is showing fulfillment. The true Messiah has come.
    Political rulers gather armies. The Son of God gathers the afflicted. Political kings conquer enemies. Christ heals the broken.
    We often want a king or a president to fix systems and restore cultural strength. But our deepest problem is not political first. It is spiritual.
    We do not merely need reform. We need redemption. We want visible order. We need forgiven hearts. The crowd wanted a throne. The sick wanted mercy. In the end, Jesus will give them both, after his resurrection and when he comes back to restore heaven and earth.

    Worshiping the King Above Every Kingdom

    When we began this morning, we talked about the pull of political momentum and the subtle temptation to attach the name of Christ to national ambition. That tension is not new. The disciples felt it long before we ever did.
    They had to be removed from the crowd before they could rightly confess Christ.
    Jesus did not send them into the storm to put them in a position to purify their understanding of Him. The wind and the waves stripped away their shallow expectations of his mission. The sea exposed the smallness of their Messiah.
    Jesus is not merely a political hope for one nation. Jesus is not merely a miracle worker to improve our circumstances. Jesus is not merely useful for cultural restoration.
    He is the Son of God.
    The One who walked on the sea would one day walk into judgment on our behalf. The One who said “I AM” in the storm would also say “It is finished” at the cross. The One who reached down and rescued sinking Peter is the same Savior who rescues us from sinking under the weight of sin and the wrath we deserve.
    The disciples worshiped in the boat. But their worship would deepen after the resurrection, when they saw clearly that their Messiah reigns not from a political throne in Jerusalem, but from the right hand of the Father.
    And so must we.
    We should pray for our nation. Scripture commands it. We should participate in our civic responsibilities. We should vote. We should advocate for justice. We should seek the good of our communities. Christians are not called to apathy.
    But we must never allow our political ideology to trump our biblical theology. We must never subject Christ under any president, platform, or party. No administration sits above the throne of heaven. No flag outranks the kingdom of God. No political movement defines the mission of the church.
    Our hope is not in elections. Our confidence is not in parties. Our King does not campaign.
    He reigns.
    So we pray. We participate. We engage. But we do so as worshipers first. Our allegiance is ultimately and eternally to the Son of God who rules the storm, governs the nations, and saves sinners like us. Who promises to come back to gather his elect to enjoy his kingdom of peace, righteousness, mercy, and justice without any threat for all eternity. That is the King we need.

      • Matthew 14:22–36ESV

      • Psalm 34:8–10ESV

  • Goodness Of God
First Baptist Church Litchfield
pastorjason.fbcl@gmail.com
217-324-4232
http://www.firstbaptistlitchfield.org/
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