Some mornings faith feels like sunlight. Other mornings it feels more like holding on to a railing in the dark. If today is one of the railing mornings, this one is for you.
John tells us about a day when following Jesus suddenly got hard. The day before, He had fed five thousand people, and they wanted to make Him king. But then He started saying things they didn’t understand, about being the bread of life, about giving Himself for the life of the world. The excitement drained out of the crowd. And then:
“From that time many of his disciples went back, and walked no more with him. Then said Jesus unto the twelve, Will ye also go away?” (John 6:66–67, KJV)
The question Jesus asked
Notice that Jesus doesn’t chase the crowd. He doesn’t soften His words to win them back. He turns to the few who are left and asks them a quiet, honest question: Will you also go?
It isn’t an accusation. It’s an invitation to look at their own hearts. Jesus never wanted followers who stayed because they were swept along. He wanted people who stayed because they had found something they couldn’t find anywhere else.
That question still comes to us. Sometimes it arrives when prayers seem unanswered. Sometimes when church people disappoint us. Sometimes when a hard word from Scripture rubs against what we wanted to hear. Sometimes simply when life gets busy and drifting away would be easy, because nobody would really notice.
Peter’s answer
Peter answers the way Peter usually does: out loud and straight from the heart.
“Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life. And we believe and are sure that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God.” (John 6:68–69, KJV)
I love that Peter doesn’t claim to understand everything. He doesn’t say, “Your teaching made perfect sense to me.” He very likely was as puzzled as the rest. What he says is something deeper: I’ve looked around, and there’s nowhere else to go.
That’s not a weak faith. That’s a tested one. Peter had seen Jesus touch lepers, calm storms, and look at people the way no one else ever had. Whatever he couldn’t figure out, he knew who Jesus was. And when you know who someone is, you can trust them through what you don’t yet understand.
Staying is a kind of faith
We often imagine faith as certainty, feeling sure and strong all the time. But a lot of real faith looks like Peter’s answer. It’s staying when leaving would be easier. It’s saying, “I don’t have it all figured out, but I know You have the words of life.”
If you’re in a season of questions, you’re in good company. The twelve didn’t stay because their questions disappeared. They stayed because Jesus was more trustworthy than their questions were loud.
And here’s the gentle part: Peter would later stumble far worse than the crowd ever did. He would deny Jesus three times. Yet Jesus never stopped holding on to him. Our staying is real and it matters, but underneath it is a deeper truth. He is the one who holds on to us first.
For this Sunday
Today, wherever you find yourself, in a church pew, at a kitchen table, or still in bed with the curtains drawn, you can answer Jesus’ question the way Peter did. You don’t need polished words. Something as simple as this is enough:
Lord, I don’t understand everything. Some days I feel like walking away. But where else would I go? You have the words of eternal life. I’m staying with You.
Then open one of the Gospels and let Him speak. Read slowly. Notice His words. Peter was right: there is nobody else who talks like this, and nobody else who loves like this.
May you find, today, that the One you’re holding on to has been holding on to you all along.