Deacon Tam Tran

THE WHEELBARROW

“Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” - (James 2:17)
“Take courage; it is I. Do not be afraid.” - (Matthew 14:27)
“Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” - (Hebrews 11:1)

On September 14, 1860, crowds gathered on both sides of the Niagara River—farmers, families, businessmen, travelers, people from Canada and America alike—all drawn by one man’s daring promise. Charles Blondin, the legendary French tightrope walker, had stretched a rope 11,000 feet across the thundering Niagara Falls, suspended 160 feet over the roaring water below. For years he had stunned audiences with feats that defied imagination, but this time he planned to attempt something even more incredible.

He crossed the rope again and again that day, each time raising the stakes. One time he walked blindfolded; another time he balanced on stilts; then he pushed a wheelbarrow containing a sack of potatoes. With every daring step, the crowd gasped, cheered, and marveled at his skill. To them, Blondin seemed superhuman—fearless, unshakable, almost invincible.

At one point, Blondin paused on the tightrope, balancing perfectly with the wheelbarrow before him. The crowd fell silent. Then, with a voice that carried across the falls, he shouted:

“Do you believe I can carry a person across in this wheelbarrow?”

A roar responded: “YES! WE BELIEVE! You are the greatest tightrope walker in the world!”

Blondin nodded slowly, and then asked the question that silenced thousands:

“Then who will get in the wheelbarrow?”

The only sound that followed was the endless crashing of the waterfalls.

No one volunteered.
Not a single hand rose.

In that moment, something became undeniably clear: the crowd believed in theory, not in action. They admired Blondin. They trusted his skill—at least as long as it required nothing from them. Their belief was loud… until it required commitment.

This story reveals the heart of a universal truth: real faith begins not when we speak, but when we step. As James writes, “Faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.” (James 2:17).

The crowd claimed to believe, but none were willing to trust Blondin with their lives. And this brings us to another scene—one not set at Niagara, but on the stormy Sea of Galilee.

The Gospel of Matthew tells us that late one night, the disciples were trapped in a violent storm. Winds hammered their small fishing boat, waves crashed against the sides, and fear gripped their hearts. Then, through the wind and mist, they saw a figure walking on the water. Terrified, they cried out, thinking it was a ghost.

But it was Jesus.

“Take courage; it is I. Do not be afraid.” (Matthew 14:27)

At that moment, Peter did something extraordinary. Perhaps his heart was pounding. Perhaps the wind whipped in his face. But something inside him recognized the voice he loved—the voice that healed, taught, comforted.

“Lord, if it is You,” Peter said, “command me to come to You on the water.”

Jesus answered with a single word that has echoed across centuries: “Come.”

And with that, Peter stepped out of the boat into the impossible.

For a moment, he did what no human had done before or since—he walked on water. Not because he was skilled like Blondin, nor because he had extraordinary balance, but because his eyes were fixed on Jesus. His focus carried him farther than logic, science, or fear ever could.

But when Peter shifted his gaze—when he saw the wind and waves—fear rushed in. His confidence shook. His feet sank. In desperation he cried out:

“Lord, save me!”

And immediately—immediately—Jesus reached out His hand and lifted him up.

Like Blondin’s crowd, the other disciples stayed in the boat. Only Peter stepped out. Only Peter discovered what unwavering trust feels like—and what faltering trust reveals.

The boat represents the familiar:
the routines we cling to,
the fears we don’t confront,
the comfort zones we hesitate to leave.

It is easy to say we trust God while sitting safely inside that boat. It is easy to sing of faith, speak of faith, admire faith—just like the crowd admired Blondin—yet hesitate when God invites us to take a step.

We each have our own version of Jesus’ invitation: “Come.”

God does not ask us to walk on tightropes or across stormy seas. But He does call us to take steps of courage—small or large—that deepen our trust in Him.

As Hebrews reminds us,
“Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1)

True faith is not merely believing that God exists. It is trusting Him enough to move.
Faith, Fear, and the Hand That Saves

Peter’s story teaches us something profoundly comforting: faith is not the absence of fear. Faith is the willingness to walk toward Jesus despite fear.

Even more, Peter’s sinking did not mark him as a failure. In fact:
He was closer to Jesus than the others.
He was the only disciple who experienced what a miracle feels like beneath his feet.
He was the only one who discovered how quickly Jesus saves when we cry out.

The story of Blondin and the story of Peter converge into one timeless message:

Jesus does not promise calm waters.
But He does promise His presence. And His presence is enough.

So today—and every day—may we dare to step out. Not because the path is easy, but because the One who calls us is faithful. And when we find ourselves sinking, may we remember: the hand that saved Peter is the same hand reaching for us.

Faith is not proven by words, but by steps.