Sermon for Pentecost 17 – 9.15.24
+ 17th Sunday after Pentecost – September 15th, 2024 +
Series B: Isaiah 50:4-10; James 3:1-12; Mark 9:14-29
Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church
Milton, WA
“Help My Unbelief”
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Lord, I believe, help my unbelief. For many this doesn’t sound like a great cry of deep faith, but it is. This is what faith sounds like – not like Captain America or the Hulk kind of faith. But lowly, weak, having nothing in my hands to bring kind of faith. A smoldering wick. A bruised reed. A strange brew of belief and unbelief all at once.
And here we see one of the Bible’s great strengths – and something that reveals its credibility and authenticity; time and time again the faults, foibles, and failures of God’s people aren’t covered up. Just the opposite – the bible airs their dirty laundry out for all of history to see. Like most people, if we’re given the chance to tell the story of our lives, would probably leave out the major mess-ups and cover up our weaknesses – play to our strengths, and so on.
Not the story of the Bible. The biblical authors don’t cover up for God’s people. Everything – the good, the bad, and the ugly – is all on display. Paul had his thorn in the flesh. Peter denied Jesus. David was an adulterer and murderer. And the list goes on.
Indeed, one of Scripture’s great strengths is that it reveals not the strength of our faith – but our weakness. Why is that a strength? It doesn’t sound like one. But it is. For in our weakness we realize that any strength we have is from Christ. And Christ Jesus is the savior the weak, the lost, the lowly – the sinner. You and me. And all who cry out…
Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.
Those are the famous words spoken by this unnamed man in Mark 9. Jesus comes down from the mountain of transfiguration with Peter, James, and John, only to find confusion and chaos. The scribes and crowds arguing with Jesus’ disciples.
This man’s son was possessed by a demon. He had even asked some of Jesus’ disciples but they were unable to cast it out. Jesus’ answer seems a little harsh. “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? Who’s the faithless generation? Is it the scribes? The crowds? The father? Even his own disciples? In reality, it’s probably the whole lot of them.
As Jesus often does in his teaching and conversation he pushes people to confess their faith, to reveal where their hope and trust is found. Is it in him, or in themselves? What about us? Where is our faith anchored? This also may be why the disciples were unable to cast out this particular demon. Perhaps after casting out demons in Jesus’ name they began to trust in themselves rather than Christ. In any event, Jesus presses on.
“How long has this been happening to him?” And he said, “From childhood. 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.”
You can hear the father’s desperation. If you can. He doesn’t come to Jesus as a superhero or a mighty warrior. No. He comes to Jesus hopeless, helpless, and weak. This unclean spirit is too strong. He’s too weak. He can’t help is his son. And he’s not sure Jesus can help either.
So Jesus gives him a bit of a tough love response. Jesus brings the man face to face with his own faith – which is failing – so that he looks not to himself for help, but so that he comes face to face with Jesus who succeeds. And more than that. Gives what this man lacks. And needs.
“‘If you can? If you’re able? All things are possible for one who believes.”
To which the man replies with one of the greatest confessions of faith. Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.
You can’t say it any better than this. He is simultaneously believer and unbeliever. This is how faith sounds – I believe Lord, and only you, the author of my faith, can deal with my unbelief.
The father believes, but he does not believe. He tries, but he has given up trying. He holds on, but he also lets go. So, he confesses to Jesus, “I believe; help my unbelief” (9:24).
With those words, this father brings all our weakness and stumbling, all of our doubting, despair, and grumbling, hopelessness and helplessness, all our fears and failures, and sets it before Jesus… and Jesus, when face-to-face with our ugliness, brings us face-to-face with His grace.
Jesus doesn’t let go. He doesn’t give up. He doesn’t leave us to wallow in our weakness. Or drift off in despair and doubt.
Jesus came, bearing our own weakness, to save us in our weakness. He came in lowliness to save us who are brought low. Jesus holds on to people who are letting go.
Jesus did not come to save the strong, but the weak; he came not for the righteous, but for sinners like this father, like you and me. A bruised reed, He will not break. A smoldering wick, He will not snuff out. A weak faith, He will not deny. Jesus has come to die for all people; those who are strong in faith and those who are weak in faith and those who have no faith at all. When Jesus died on the cross, He died for the sin of unbelief so that, when He rises, He brings forgiveness to all.
This story reveals something marvelous about Jesus. Jesus holds on to people even as they are letting go. Faith isn’t about how tightly you hold on to Jesus but rather how tightly He holds on to you. And, as Jesus tells His disciples in John, all the Father gives Him He will save. No one will be able to snatch you out of His hand.
So the next time you find yourself feeling lost and hopeless and helpless like the father in Mark 9, remember the words – Lord, I believe, help my unbelief; pray that prayer knowing that who answered that man and gave him the faith he lacked is the same one who hears, answers, and rescues you and gives you faith in him. And he’s not letting go. Not ever.
There’s a lot going on in this story. Jesus casts out the demon and heals a man’s son. But Jesus also heals the man’s unbelief and struggle to believe. And he brings you healing too. It’s also a story for days when our life and faith in Christ feel more like a teeter totter or a tug of war than a victory lap. And on those days, in those moments when we pray, Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief. Know that he does and he will. Always.
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.