Mark 9

¹⁴ And when they came to the disciples, they saw a great crowd around them, and scribes arguing with them. ¹⁵ And immediately all the crowd, when they saw him, were greatly amazed and ran up to him and greeted him. ¹⁶ And he asked them, “What are you arguing about with them?” ¹⁷ And someone from the crowd answered him, “Teacher, I brought my son to you, for he has a spirit that makes him mute. ¹⁸ And whenever it seizes him, it throws him down, and he foams and grinds his teeth and becomes rigid. So I asked your disciples to cast it out, and they were not able.” ¹⁹ And he answered them, “O faithless generation, how long am I to be with you? How long am I to bear with you? Bring him to me.” ²⁰ And they brought the boy to him. And when the spirit saw him, immediately it convulsed the boy, and he fell on the ground and rolled about, foaming at the mouth. ²¹ And Jesus asked his father, “How long has this been happening to him?” And he said, “From childhood. ²² And it has often cast him into fire and into water, to destroy him. But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” ²³ And Jesus said to him, “‘If you can’! All things are possible for one who believes.” ²⁴ Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, “I believe; help my unbelief!” ²⁵ And when Jesus saw that a crowd came running together, he rebuked the unclean spirit, saying to it, “You mute and deaf spirit, I command you, come out of him and never enter him again.” ²⁶ And after crying out and convulsing him terribly, it came out, and the boy was like a corpse, so that most of them said, “He is dead.” ²⁷ But Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him up, and he arose. ²⁸ And when he had entered the house, his disciples asked him privately, “Why could we not cast it out?” ²⁹ And he said to them, “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer.”

There is something within conservative church culture, within, that is, our culture, that makes raw honesty difficult to practice. Somehow we still act as if we must keep up our spiritual appearances, that we must act like we never waver, that we must pretend to be mighty oaks or immovable boulders. My experience as a pastor, however, shows that this really is not always the case. Sometimes our faith is strong and unwavering. Other times it is weak and fragile. I have lost count of the number of times that Christians who seem to have it all together, who seem to be models of spiritual stability, will admit, in private, to going through great periods of doubt and struggle.

Then there is my own walk with Jesus. It can be particularly tricky struggling with doubts as a pastor. For many, the pastor becomes a symbol of stalwart faith. He is not supposed to struggle. And, to some others, it seems to be assumed that a pastor is actually paid not to struggle! How foolish! Pastors, like all believers, are not averse to periods of struggle, of doubt, of questioning. Pastors too might go through what St. John of the Cross called “the dark night of the soul.”

I would like to offer this message to those who are struggling in their faith, to those who find themselves asking questions that they have been told “good Christians” should not ask, to those who have ever struggled with their own minds and hearts. I would like to offer this message to the weak of faith, the unsure, the vacillating, the despondent, the confused, and the uncertain. And in doing so, I would like to introduce you to a man who, perhaps like yourself, believed but also struggled to believe.

Faith is necessary for a relationship with Jesus.

We will approach this gentleman first by way of bedrock principles. I have been discussing the quality of faith and perhaps even the quantity of faith, but do let us acknowledge with no hesitation that the Lord Jesus says there must be the existence of faith for us to have a relationship with Him.

Recall that Jesus, along with Peter, James, and John, have just been on the mountain of transfiguration. Now they descend into the muck and mire of human conflict. They come down from the mountain and there they find a ruckus.

¹⁴ And when they came to the disciples, they saw a great crowd around them, and scribes arguing with them. ¹⁵ And immediately all the crowd, when they saw him, were greatly amazed and ran up to him and greeted him. ¹⁶ And he asked them, “What are you arguing about with them?” ¹⁷ And someone from the crowd answered him, “Teacher, I brought my son to you, for he has a spirit that makes him mute. ¹⁸ And whenever it seizes him, it throws him down, and he foams and grinds his teeth and becomes rigid. So I asked your disciples to cast it out, and they were not able.”

What is this commotion that Jesus and the inner-three find? There seem to be three parties involved: the nine disciples who remained below, the scribes, and the father of a boy in need. The disciples were in conflict because they could not cast a demon out of an afflicted boy. They were also in conflict with the scribes who were ever and always looking for an occasion to attack Jesus and his followers. And then there was the afflicted boy’s son who was moved to answer Jesus’ question, “What are you arguing about?” by explaining his son’s malady and the disciples’ inability to help them.

Jesus responded with irritation.

¹⁹ And he answered them, “O faithless generation, how long am I to be with you? How long am I to bear with you? Bring him to me.”

To whom is Jesus speaking? It is likely that he is addressing His frustration to His own disciples, though the same could be said of all assembled to some extent. We know from Peter’s reaction on the mount of transfiguration that the disciples were still struggling to understand Jesus’ own words about being crucified and rising again. That is, His own disciples’ faith was not where it needed to be on the most crucial issues. For this reason, Jesus condemns their faithlessness. Why? Because they of all people should have had faith and because faith is absolutely essential to a relationship with Jesus.

This principle is stated perhaps most clearly in Hebrews 11.

⁶ And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.

How, in other words, might one even approach God if one does not believe that there is a God to whom one might approach? Faith is the opening of one’s heart to the very possibility of the divine. It is the sine qua non, the without which nothing, of the Christian life.

In Ephesians 2, Paul explains that faith is the doorway through which the grace of God in Jesus Christ enters in.

⁸ For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, ⁹ not a result of works, so that no one may boast.

Notice the prepositions: by grace…through faith. Occasionally you hear a well-meaning Christian say that their faith saved them. That is incorrect. The grace of God saved you. You are saved by grace. But faith is the doorway through which this saving grace enters.

Jesus’ exasperation with His disciples is telling: they should have believed by then! The people of God are the people of God because they have been given the grace of God. But the people of God only receive the grace of God when they put their faith and trust in God.

Faith is necessary.

But the trials of life wage war against our faith.

Faith is necessary, but the trials of life wage war against our faith. We can see this in the response of the father of the tortured boy.

²⁰ And they brought the boy to him. And when the spirit saw him, immediately it convulsed the boy, and he fell on the ground and rolled about, foaming at the mouth. ²¹ And Jesus asked his father, “How long has this been happening to him?” And he said, “From childhood. ²² And it has often cast him into fire and into water, to destroy him. But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” ²³ And Jesus said to him, “‘If you can’! All things are possible for one who believes.” ²⁴ Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, “I believe; help my unbelief!”

We see the imperfect nature of the father’s faith in two ways: (1) in his statement, “if you can do anything” and (2) in his desperate and honest cry, “I believe; help my unbelief!”

Faith is necessary, but the trials of life wage war against our faith. The father had watched his son suffer for years under the cruel designs of this evil spirit. Then, a spark of hope: he heard that Jesus was near. Imagine with what excitement the man brought his son to the disciples. While he did not see Jesus (for Jesus was on the mountain with Peter, James, and John), he did encounter Jesus’ very own disciples! Surely they would be able to help. But as the crowd gathered around the disciples attempted to cast out the demon, the spark of hope died out within the man. Why? Because they failed. Jesus’ disciples could not heal his son! And if they could not heal his son was it not reasonable for the man to suspect that perhaps Jesus could not either? Even so, the man held on to faith, fragile though it was. He struggled to believe, yet he believed.

Augustine said of the father’s faith:

…we find here an emerging faith, which is not yet full faith, in that father who when he had presented to the Lord his son to be cured of an evil spirit and was asked whether he believed, answered, “Lord, I believe, help me in my unbelief.” “Lord,” says he, “I believe.” “I believe”: therefore there was faith; but “help me in my unbelief”: therefore there was not full faith.[1]

That is not a bad way of putting it: “an emerging faith, which is not yet full faith.” “Lord I believe; help my unbelief!”

Truth be told, many people, perhaps most, understand at least the possibility of this condition. We know what it is to believe, to trust, and yet to feel that our faith has been so beaten and bruised by the trials and questions of life that we even still struggle to believe.

Consider Voltaire’s poem entitled “Poem on the Lisbon Disaster.” Voltaire wrote it in response to a 1755 earthquake that killed tens of thousands of people. In his poem, Voltaire contemplated the question of God in the face of the agonizing horrors unleashed by the earthquake.

Everything is at war: the elements, animals, and man. We must confess: there’s evil on earth.
Its source remains unknown to us.
Could evil spring from the author of all good?

Is it the black Typhon or barbarous Ahriman
Who condemn us to suffer under their tyrannical law? My mind rejects these heinous monsters
The trembling world made into gods.

How should we think of God, goodness itself,
Who lavishes gifts upon the children he loves, While still pouring abundant pain upon them? What eye may perceive the purpose of his designs? From the perfect Being, no evil could arise,

But there’s no other principle. God alone is master, Yet evil exists. O sad truth!
O dumbfounding contradictions!
God came to console our distressed race;

He visited the world and changed nothing! An arrogant sophist says he could not.

Typhon was the Egyptian’s principle of evil; Ahriman, the Persian’s.

“He could,” another claims, “but didn’t want to. In time, he will, no doubt.” Meanwhile,
The subterranean thunder engulfs Lisbon
And thirty cities are reduced to ruins

From the banks of the Tagus to the Sea of Cadiz.[2]

Say what you will of Voltaire, but his struggle to reconcile the reality of pain and suffering with the goodness of God is something that haunts the minds and hearts of many, including many who do indeed trust in Christ.

I am not one who believes that a true child of God never wavers, never questions, never struggles. I can say that I have made the same cry as the father: “I believe; help my unbelief!” We need faith. We want faith. And we have faith! But life wages war against our faith and sometimes we struggle.

Even so, bring to Jesus your small, imperfect faith, and He will make of it something amazing!

What will Jesus say to this man? Will He condemn his wavering faith? Will He condemn his small faith? Will He say, “If you do not believe completely and perfectly I will not heal your son!” What will Jesus say? Watch:

²⁵ And when Jesus saw that a crowd came running together, he rebuked the unclean spirit, saying to it, “You mute and deaf spirit, I command you, come out of him and never enter him again.” ²⁶ And after crying out and convulsing him terribly, it came out, and the boy was like a corpse, so that most of them said, “He is dead.” ²⁷ But Jesus took him by the hand and lifted him up, and he arose. ²⁸ And when he had entered the house, his disciples asked him privately, “Why could we not cast it out?” ²⁹ And he said to them, “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer.”

How amazing! How beautiful! Jesus heals the man’s son!

Dear church, hear me: a small faith in the hands of a great God becomes a great faith. Jesus can bless even a small and struggling faith! In Matthew 17, Jesus said:

^20b For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.

I was once with a group of guys who were walking down a mountain in Honduras when our we came upon a farmer standing by a field of mustard plants. We asked him to see some of his mustard seeds. He brought us a small bag and we asked him if we could buy them. In truth, I was wanting to bring some home to use as an illustration of Jesus’ words in Matthew 17. He tried to give us the seeds but we insisted that he take some money. Then somebody mentioned that we would not be allowed to bring seeds from Honduras into the United States and that it could create an awkward scene with customs officials. So we returned the seeds to the man. It was a good deal for the farmer. He ended up with the seeds and the small amount of money! But I do recall how very tiny the mustard seeds were. It occurred to me at that time that a mustard seed is, on occasion, an accurate depiction of my own faith. But Jesus does not condemn mustard seed faith!

Your faith may be a tiny mustard seed faith, but bring it to Jesus nonetheless! Jesus does not turn away His struggling followers. In the 5^th century, John Cassian wrote:

Seeing that his faith was being driven by the waves of unbelief on the rocks which would cause a fearful shipwreck, he asks of the Lord an aid to his faith, saying “Lord, help me in my unbelief.” So thoroughly did the apostles and those who live in the gospel realize that everything which is good is brought to completion by the aid of the Lord, and not imagine that they could preserve their faith unharmed by their own strength or free will, that they prayed that it might be helped and granted to them by the Lord.[3]

Yes, “everything which is good is brought to completion by the aid of the Lord.” That is so! So your faith is good, even if it is small. Bring it to Jesus and He will make of it something big and something strong! Give to Him your mustard seed faith and He will move mountains! That is because spiritual power has less to do with the perfection of your faith than with the perfection of the Savior in whom you place it! “The key is not the depth of our faith, but the direction of our faith,” writes Danny Akin. “What is important is not the potency of our faith but the Person our faith is in. A little faith in a great Savior gets amazing results!”[4]

Are you struggling? Are you hurting? Is your faith small and weary? Bring it to a perfect Savior and watch what He does! Bring it to your mighty King and watch what He does! If the best you can say is, “Lord I believe; help my unbelief!” then say it! Do not pretend you have much if all you have is little. Your honesty is preferred to your posturing. The Lord does not turn in disgust from His weary children. Rather, He looks with compassion, as He looked upon this distraught father, and He heals.

Yes, it is better to have strong faith. But small faith is better than no faith.

Jesus does not despise your meager offering. Bring it and behold the love and power of the Son of God!

 

[1] Thomas C. Oden and Christopher A. Hall, Mark. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. Gen. Ed. Thomas C. Oden. New Testament II (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1998), p.124.

[2] https://static1.squarespace.com/static/55316a91e4b06d7c3b435f17/t/553ee5d5e4b037292cdd7e85/143018542 9744/Voltaire+-+Poem+on+the+Lisbon+Disaster+%282014%29.pdf

[3] Thomas C. Oden and Christopher A. Hall, p.124.

[4] Daniel L. Akin, Mark. Christ-Centered Exposition. (Nashville, TN: Holman Reference, 2014), p.188.