Help My Unbelief

Jesu Juva

St. Mark 9:14-29                                      

 September 15, 2024

Proper 19B

 Dear saints of our Savior~

        At first glance, today’s Holy Gospel would seem to be mainly about demon possession and exorcism.  Those topics probably weren’t at the forefront of your mind as you came here today.  But if you’ll hang with me, I think you’ll start to see that there’s something more here—something that each one of us can take away from this text. 

At the center of the action is a boy with a troubling demon that causes epileptic-type seizures.  This demon even attempts to throw the boy into fire and water to kill him.  Can you imagine the fear that must have gripped his father?  Satan has set his sights on people of all ages, children included.  He is a shameless predator who delights in victimizing even children.  This is serious, scary stuff.  And what makes it even more frightening is that the disciples weren’t able to deal with this demon on their own, but Jesus needed to be directly involved.

All this happened right after the Transfiguration.  Jesus was coming down the mountain with Peter, James and John, following His moment of glory with Moses and Elijah.  But when they met up with the other nine disciples, what they encountered was chaos.  People were arguing and yelling.  The crowd was irate because nine of Jesus’ disciples had failed—failed to cast out the demon that was tormenting a little boy.  And there are few things more upsetting than having to watch a child suffer.  For His part, Jesus is also packing an attitude.  Apparently what got Jesus worked up was the unbelief that He encountered.  O faithless generation, how long do I have to put up with you? 

Perhaps most skeptical of all is the boy’s father. He isn’t sure that Jesus is up to the task.  And who can blame him?  So far every remedy, every healer, every prayer and every penny had failed to save his son.  Why would this attempt be any different?  He tells Jesus: If you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.  IF you can.  There it is—the doubt, the unbelief, the skepticism.  But Jesus throws a flag on the play.  What do you mean IF? All things are possible for one who believes.

That brings us to the heart of the matter.  This isn’t so much a story about a nasty evil spirit, as it is about what happens to our faith when our “religion” doesn’t seem to work.  If it helps, you can take the demon out of this story and substitute some other terrible reality that’s more personal to you.  And you still end up at the same crossroads of faith and doubt:  the incurable cancer, the accident that turned your life upside down, the trusted friend who turned on you, the marriage that imploded, the child who has abandoned the faith. 

Like the father of the demonized boy, you did the very thing you should do.  You brought your problems to the church, but the church couldn’t fix them.  You prayed for healing; but things only got worse.  You prayed for a better job; and you lost the job you had.  You know how it is.  I know you do.

The temptation at that point is to trade in your God for another model—to swap your religion (or at least change churches) until you find one that works.  Americans are particularly prone to the “whatever works must be true” way of looking at things.  We’re pragmatic people.  We admire efficiency—whatever it takes to get the job done.  But I’m here to tell you that, when it comes to faith, the whole “go with whatever works” mentality is a deeply flawed strategy.  In fact, it’s one of the devil’s best temptations. 

If you equate what’s right and true with what works, then what happens when it stops working?  What happens when the disciples can’t cast out the demon?  What happens when you take your troubles to church, and lay them at the feet of Jesus, and things only get worse?  Well, you’ve got a handy excuse to move on—to chase after what works.  We become so concerned about the here and now that we fail to see how God blesses us in the long run through our suffering—how His grace is sufficient, how His power is made perfect in our weakness.  Jesus does His best work in our lives precisely when our lives aren’t “working” according to plan.

In your time of trouble, when you’re tempted to chase after “what works,” learn to pray like the father in today’s text:  Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.  That’s not double-talk; that’s honesty.  That man didn’t try to hide his weakness.  He didn’t try to appear more polished and pious than he was.  He wasn’t afraid to be real.  I believe; help my unbelief. 

That’s actually a very Lutheran way of explaining who we are.  And who are we?  We are saint and sinner, at the same time.  A believer and an unbeliever.  That’s you; that’s me.  And that reality shapes our prayers:  I believe; help my unbelief.  Lord, teach me to trust You when You appear weak.  Teach me to trust your Word when it seems powerless.  Teach me to trust Your promises over and above my own reason and strength.

You can pray with that kind of honesty because Jesus is here for you—for the helpless, the weak, the scared, and even the demonized.  It doesn’t matter whether you’re just an “innocent” victim like the little boy with the unclean spirit, or whether you’ve made your bed of shame and now you have to lay in it.  All things are possible for Jesus—and for the one who believes in Jesus! 

Jesus has a history of helping.  He has a track record of deliverance—a record written in blood.  His crucifixion and resurrection—His dying and rising—are the indisputable proof that with God all things are possible—that He is always, ready, willing and able to help those who wait for Him in faith.  

In fact, today’s text takes us directly to Jesus’ own death and resurrection.   For when Jesus finally got around to exorcising the demon, it looked like things had gone from bad to worse.  It looked like the boy was dead.  He looked like a corpse and most of the crowd quickly concluded, “He is dead.”  (And maybe he was.)  But Jesus took the boy by the hand and lifted him up, and he arose.  He arose.  It’s a preview of the resurrection—corpses rising to new life.  This is why we can trust Jesus.  For He truly died.  As our sin-bearing substitute, he died like a common criminal.  He became a corpse on a cross.  And on the third day He arose.  Jesus lives.  And in Jesus you also will live.  When it seems like your religion isn’t working—that your faith isn’t working, remember the resurrection.  For on that day death and sin will be undone.  Your faith will be vindicated in victory!

Already today, Jesus is here to help you.  Now, the Savior’s help may not be exactly what you were hoping for.  It may not come according to your timetable.  It may not materialize according to your design and plan.  And if you find that to be discouraging or troubling, then pray.  Pray.  Go to Jesus with your trouble.  Lay it on the line:  Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.  He will answer.  He will help.  Trust Him.  Whether it “works” or not, trust the promises of Jesus.

His nail-scarred hands declare that your sins, no matter what they are, cannot separate you from God.  Jesus has done away with them as surely as He dispatched the demon in today’s reading.  That means that your troubles, your weakness, your sorrows, your demons—they have but a short season to live.  They will not last.  They do not reign; Jesus reigns!  And He is our Savior. 

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.