Faith …

more than taking a risk.

Faith or Risk?

I’m one of the dwindling number of Christians who met and sat under the ministry of John Wimber prior to his death in 1997. One of the things many remember him saying during his ministry of stirring the body of Christ in signs and wonders was that Faith is spelled ‘R-I-S-K’. As a church leader I knew exactly where he was coming from. He was looking at a room full of hesitant, theologically educated, even Pentecostal, practically frozen believers and trying to push them off the ledge into actually doing something; praying for the sick, stepping out in the gifts and moving when the Spirit moves. In that context, it was brilliant pastoral provocation, and as always, he was very warm, friendly and funny.

I couldn’t resist it… so here’s the challenge. On First Edition you’re constantly encouraged to step out in faith, so it’s worth asking the question: is faith actually spelled risk? The words are not the same, not even close. I know what Wimber meant and how it was received, but I think sticking to faith as a standalone, is much more solid. Just to clarify, we’re not talking about saving, regenerative faith, but faith tied to the supernatural intervention and activity of God outside of salvation.

Faith is a biblical word to its core. The Greek pistis carries the weight of both faith and belief together. It isn’t two ideas, it’s one. Trusting and being persuaded by the trustworthiness of someone. It has a specific object and always points somewhere, or rather, to someone. Risk however, doesn’t do that. Risk is a purely human calculation about uncertainty. You weigh the odds, you factor in what you stand to lose, you decide whether the potential gain is worth it. There’s no person at the centre of risk. Just probability.

Here’s the thing: risk implies you don’t know the outcome. Faith says you know who holds it. Obedience may involve risk, but, faith itself rests on something far firmer than that.

When Hebrews says “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen,” it isn’t describing a leap in the dark. It’s describing certainty about a person whose track record is absolute. Abraham left everything for a land he hadn’t seen. We call that a massive risk, but God had spoken. The one who spoke had made the universe from nothing. Abraham wasn’t gambling. He was trusting someone and that trust not only implies faith, but speaks of an accompanying obedience.

Faith and risk look similar from the outside, and both involve moving without full information. Both involve acting before the whole picture is clear, but the difference is everything. Risk says, “I don’t know how this ends.” Faith says, “I know who holds the end.”

What Wimber was really after wasn’t risk. It was obedience. Costly, uncomfortable, stretching obedience. And that is absolutely a biblical category- obedience rests on faith, and faith rests on the character of God. That character is most fully displayed at the cross, where the worst thing imaginable became the very mechanism of redemption.

The object of faith is what matters. Always. And that object isn’t an outcome or a feeling or even a spiritual experience. It’s a person. Which is why faith, however hard it feels, is nothing like a gamble. You can call it ‘risk’ if you like, but you know what it means!

I was taught two things in 1979 that I have never forgotten: Grace stands for “God’s Riches at Christ’s Expense”, and faith means “Failing all, I trust Him.” Whilst personally they are very simplistic things, they have never been a risk, and never failed me!

 
 

1994

The manifest presence of God

Manifest presence of God

I’m genuinely excited for the under 30s. They missed 1994. They weren’t in Toronto when the Spirit moved through that little airport church and the world felt the tremor. People fell under the weight of God. Laughed until they cried. Wept until they laughed. For those who were there it felt like something inside shifted and wouldn’t shift back. The hunger for His manifest presence remains.

Hand on heart thing here, I’m convinced it’s about to happen again. Different, though. Different flavour, colour, smell. Not Toronto 2.0. Something fresh. The creative genius of God doesn’t repeat Himself. He improvises. He doesn’t just do an encore; same thing, same way, same style. He does a new thing. The manifest presence that’s coming for the tired, dry, exhausted church of 2026 won’t look like 1994. But it will feel just as intense. Just as undeniable. Something you feel from the inside outwards, reordering everything it touches.

Buckle your seats.

And listen. We don’t need to book flights anywhere. Sheffield S2 2RJ works just fine. So does your living room. Your church basement. Your prayer meeting with six people who actually showed up. God doesn’t have favourite postcodes. The Spirit blows where He wishes, and He’s never needed our permission about how or where to move.

The question has never been geography. It’s always been hunger. That raw, indomitable, passionate hunger for His Presence.

Here’s the reality: God is already present everywhere. You can’t escape Him. David tried. “Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence?” Nowhere. That’s where.

But omnipresence and visitation are different things. One is theological fact. The other is lived reality. One you believe because Scripture says so. The other you know because something just happened inside you that you can’t explain and don’t want to.

Moses understood this. He walked with God daily but we know he wanted more of God. As they travelled, there it was, right front of the the whole of Israel, cloud by day, fire by night. God’s powerful presence went before Moses and Israel every step of the way. All the way through the harsh wilderness they were lead by a phenomenal pillar of cloud by day and fire by night, but Moses wasn’t tempted to settle with that. Moses asked to see God’s glory. Stunning! God didn’t respond “I’m already here, isn’t that enough?” He said yes – then promptly hid Moses in the rock and passed by. It was a transforming moment, Moses staggered down the mountain with his face shining.

That’s visitation. Not just God showing up. God revealing Himself in a way that changes what ‘normal’ means.

You can’t schedule it or manufacture it with the right worship set or prayer technique. There’s no formula. He moves when and where and how He chooses. And when He does, it won’t look like what came before. It’ll look like Him. Fresh. Creative. Surprising.

But you can live ready:

Be Hungry.
Not for experience. For Him, being convinced that the church ‘stuff of life’ programmes and activities, good as they are, were never meant to be enough.

Be Humble.
Because the moment your theology becomes a wall instead of a window into seeing and knowing God, you’ve missed it. God opposes the proud.

Obedient.
Walking with Jesus before the fire falls, having your heart already in place because visitation comes to people already on the path.

So here’s my delicious question for you, it’s one of invitation. Are you ready? Not for a repeat. For something new – for the God who moved in 1994 to move again, in His own way, with His own creative genius, right where you are.

Sheffield S2 2RJ is as good a place as any to meet Him. Other postcodes are available.