Today's reading: Numbers 1; Mark 9
There is a lot of really important stuff that either happens or is said in Mark 9, but one thing that always stands out in a big way to me is the response of the demon possessed boy’s father about faith.
“I believe; help my unbelief!”
It’s a simple but profound statement, and I don’t know that he would have said it if not for the desperation and urgency he was feeling at the time.
This man had brought his son to Jesus to have the demon cast out, and when Jesus asks him how long it’s been happening, he tells Him it’s been going on since childhood, meaning he has most likely taken him to Jewish exorcists in the past, only to have them fail to help his son. But initially, when the man arrives, Jesus is up on the mountain, so the disciples, having cast out demons before when Jesus sent them out in pairs, make their own attempt, but they fail to cast the demon out as well.
From the man’s perspective, he very well might have given up hope of helping his son, but then he heard about Jesus and thought maybe He could succeed where others had failed. But when he comes and Jesus’ disciples fail, I have to imagine that sinking feeling in his gut as realization sets in that they aren’t able to help, meaning there’s a good chance Jesus won’t be able to either.
Then when Jesus does come down the mountain and the boy is brought to Him, He doesn’t immediately do anything. Even as the demon throws the boy on the ground and he is rolling around, foaming at the mouth, Jesus seems to just be making detached small talk about it, asking the man how long it’s been happening, and then making the statement about all things being possible for him who believes as though chiding him for mis-speaking while answering the first question. But as a parent, I can’t even imagine watching my child writhing on the ground, foaming at the mouth, while the man I had thought might be my son’s last real hope just stands to the side, watching, and evidently just wanting to chat.
So in his desperation, and probably just trying to get Jesus to do something, he blurts out one of my favorite verses, “I believe; help my unbelief!”
I love this statement from him because it is so authentic and so incredibly relatable.
Maybe this is just me, but I pretty often feel like I should have things more together than I do. I feel that way in pretty much every area of life, but especially spiritually. This is part of the reason why I said yesterday, in the post on Mark 8, that I am so grateful that the disciples were such ordinary men, because they also didn’t have it all together spiritually.
I believe God is my creator and knows me infinitely better than I know myself. I believe He knows how He designed me to live and what works best. I believe that if He says to do something it is the best possible thing to be doing. I believe that He has unlimited power and unlimited resources available to Him, from which He actively supplies us as we pursue His will. I believe all that intellectually, but when the rubber meets the road, I often come up short of believing it enough to run with it.
There are times when God is clearly calling me to take a step of faith, and, despite knowing and believing all the answers, my heart starts bringing up every objection and every reason why that doesn’t make sense. Then the internal battle starts between what I know to be true and what I am feeling and experiencing in the moment, going round for round against God’s Word and His Spirit, trying to come up with the objection that they will say, “Oh, good point, God didn’t think of that when He put this before you. I guess you’re off the hook!” But that never happens. Instead, I run out of objections and just have to sit in one final question, “Am I going to trust Him and obey, or am I going to actively choose to not follow the Lord on this one?” And it’s in that spot that I very often cry out, like the man here in Mark 9, “I believe; help my unbelief!”
Intellectually, I do believe, but there is clearly unbelief in my heart that stops the head-knowledge from resulting in action. I love the Lord and I want my life to be lived for Him, I want my heart to be more like His, I want to be a reflection of His love and compassion in and for this world, so I do genuinely want to believe more fully than I do, but I can’t force my heart to be convinced enough to move in those moments of paralysis. But what I can do, like the man, is rely on Jesus to help my unbelief. When I have come to the end of my objections, when I have come to the place where the decision is just down to trust and obedience and I’m having trouble lifting my foot to that that next step, I can throw myself on His mercy and look to Him to help my unbelief and help me take that first step in obedience beyond what my heart currently believes.
And each time I cry out to Him to help my unbelief, and each time He comes through, helping me take that next step that I am hesitating to take, it is in helping me take that step despite my fears and trepidations that He grows and strengthens my faith. It is in and through those small steps that He develops the faith and trust in my heart to take increasingly bigger steps for Him, and to live more consistently and more faithfully for Him.
But, for me at least, it very often starts here with that simple plea of desperation, “I believe; help my unbelief!”
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