Monday, September 13, 2021

Sermon for Pentecost 16: "Religion is for the Weak"

+ 16th Sunday after Pentecost – September 12, 2021 +

Series B: Isaiah 50:4-10; James 3:1-12; Mark 9:14-29

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

 



 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

 

A good friend of mine who’s a pastor spends a lot of time on college campuses and public spaces sitting on a bench or a table with a little sign next to him: Religion is for the weak. As you can imagine, the sign evokes an array of responses. From the atheist who says “right on” to the more fundamentalist scowling. But for the discerning one, there is truth in these words. As the old Sunday school song goes, I am weak, but Jesus is strong.

 

Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.

 

For many the picture of faith is like the old SNL sketch with Hanz and Franz who are here to pump you up. The biblical reality, however, is far different. Look closely at the lives God’s people, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, David, Solomon, Elijah, Jeremiah, Paul, Peter and the disciples, and what do you notice? Great faith in Christ to be sure. But also great weakness. And, above all, the greater grace of God that covers everything and everyone.

 

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.” 

 

And Jesus said to him, “‘If you can’! All things are possible for one who believes.” God can do anything He wants. That’s not the issue. The only issue is if He’s willing. The man should have said, “If you are willing, have compassion on us,” just as we pray “thy will be done” because we don’t know what God’s will is for any particular circumstance other than our salvation. But it’s not a matter of whether Jesus can do something, but only if He is willing to do something. And faith is open to all possibilities. 

 

That’s how we can pray for a miracle and go to the doctor and accept a sickness all at the same time. Nothing is impossible with God, and all things are possible for one who believes. That doesn’t mean that we get everything we want if we believe hard enough and in the right way, but that faith is always open to every possibility because with God nothing is impossible. In other words, faith looks to Christ, not to ourselves. 

And that’s where Jesus has been leading this man. To this confession. To these words. 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.

 

Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.

 

It’s a prayer, a confession, a creed, and a picture of our Christian life all rolled into one memorable verse. Lord, I believe, help Thou my unbelief

 

That is our table prayer,

Our bedside prayer

Our office prayer

Our going-to-the-movies prayer

Our 24/7 petition.

Lord, I do believe, but I also don’t believe.

I am a cocktail of contradictions: 

Double-hearted, forked-tongued,

Pulled heavenward and hellward.

I fear you but I also fear failure.

I trust you but I also trust myself.

I love you but I also love the limelight.

Lord, I am a saint and a sinner,

 

Lord I believe, help Thou my unbelief

 

With those words, this father brings all our weakness and stumbling, all of our doubting and grumbling, all of our reticence and running and sets it before Jesus... and Jesus is a Savior who has come to save. 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 dies on the cross, He dies for the sin of unbelief so that, when He rises, He brings forgiveness to all.

 

The magnificence of this miraculous event is what it reveals about Jesus. Jesus holds on to people even as they are letting go. Faith is a relationship with the One who is strong enough to save. It is not about how tightly you hold on to Jesus but rather how tightly He holds on to you.

 

Yes, this is a story about Jesus casting out the demon and healing this man’s son. But it’s so much more than that. It’s also the healing of this man’s unbelief and struggle to believe. 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 anything else. And on those days, in those moments when we pray, Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief. Know that he does and he will. 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. 

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