Desperate

Sermon Title: Desperate

Sermon Text: Mark 9:14-29

Prayer

Psalm 119c

RBC: health, work, graciousness; Men’s/Women’s/STM/Children

IPC: Terry Johnson

Sovereign Grace Bible Church: Paul Thomas (Worland, WY)

RBNet: David/Nicky Vaughn (Aix-en-Provence, France): church plant, Belgian Bible Institute

Steve and Maggie Carr (Romania) support raising/busy weekends

Nigeria (IPTT, LIT, churches)

Invitation

Please take your Bibles and join me in Mark 9:14-29. If you are using the blue ESV bible in the seat backs in front of you, you can find our text on page 43. The title of the sermon is Desperate.

Introduction

John Charles Ryle was born on May 10, 1816. He was an English Anglican bishop, preacher, and writer and served as the first Anglican bishop of Liverpool. His book Holiness is one of my all-time favorites; if you haven’t read it, run (don’t walk) to get yourself a copy and dive in. Well, in another work, a little treatise entitled, A Call to Prayer (which is also a chapter in his book Practical Religion), Ryle opens with this most profound statement:

Prayer is the most important subject in practical religion. All other subjects are second to it. Reading the Bible, listening to sermons, attending public worship, going to the Lord's Table—all these are very important matters. But none of them are so important as private prayer.

And so let me ask you: Do you pray? If you’re anything like me, the previous statement offers a pretty scary thought. In fact, if you're anything like me, the following statement from Ryle strikes a deeper cord. After lamenting how few people in his day likely never prayed at all, he turns his thoughts to many who, while they do pray, have no heart in their prayers. He mourns:

I believe there are tens of thousands whose prayers are nothing but mere form, a set of words repeated by rote, without a thought about there meaning. Some say over a few hasty sentences picked up in the nursery when they were children. Some content themselves with repeating the Creed, forgetting that there is not a request in it. Some add the Lord's Prayer, but without the slightest desire that its solemn petitions may be granted…Words said without heart are as utterly useless to our souls as the drum beating of savages before their idols. Where there is no heart, there may be lip-work and tongue-work, but there is nothing that God listens to; there is no prayer.

So, let us ask ourselves again: Do we pray? I confess that prayer is the hardest spiritual discipline for me personally. It is so easy to be distracted. Somehow my prayers so often transform (without my knowledge) mid-thought into to-do lists for the day/week ahead. Prayers at meals or bed time are regular, but they can bo so rush and hasty. There always seems to be a better time to pray than right now!

And so, as most of you know, we just finished a long series on Genesis last week. As we typically preach through books of the Bible here—in a verse-by-verse kind of way—(and we preach from both the OT and the NT) that means that we’ve got a NT book series to do next, which will be the gospel of John. But before that, I want to take a few weeks and consider this all-important topic of prayer. 

Specifically, there are five big ideas about prayer that I want to consider with you in the coming weeks. Stated altogether, my aim is that we would be a praying church whose prayers are desperate, competent, powerful, humble, and steadfast. We’ll take one week to look at each of those ideas.

And so today, we look at the first word: desperate. We begin here, because—frankly—we will also struggle to pray if we don’t see our great need to pray. And so, the big idea of this sermon is that we need to be praying. I want you to be convinced, deep down in your soul, with every fibre of your being, of the great importance of prayer. We need to have a sense of desperation in our praying—it must be a non-negotiable for us as individuals, families, and a church. (read 9:14-29).

Body

The disciples cannot exercise a demon (vv.14-19)

We come upon this scene after a most exquisite encounter with God in the preceding verses. Jesus had taken Peter, James, and John up the mountain with him to get a peak behind the veil, as it were. The text tells us in vv.2-3 that Jesus was “transfigured before them, and his clothes became radiant, intensely white, as no one on earth could bleach them.” Then appeared before them Moses and Elijah. God spoke a benedictory word from heaven declaring Jesus to be the Son in whom he is well-pleased.

On the way down the mountain, Jesus discusses with them the prophesy concerning the coming of Elijah as well as his own resurrection from the dead, and when they get to the bottom, they have arrived on the scene for our passage today. And so, as something of an aside here, often this is how it happens: you’ve had your mountain top experience with the Lord, only to be assaulted immediately by problems.

They find the other disciples surrounded by a great crowd, arguing with the scribes. Jesus asks what the argument is about, and he’s answered by a someone in the crowd who tells him that it’s about his son. Specifically, it’s about the inability of his disciples to exercise the demon from the boy. This spirit had made him mute. And whenever it would seize him, it would throw him down, and he foam and grind his teeth and become rigid. So, he had brought his son to Jesus, but in Jesus’ absence the disciples had attempted to cast out the demon to no avail.

Now, we aren’t told exactly what the argument was. Perhaps the scribes were making fun of the disciples for their inability to do such a thing, chastising them for their childish thinking. Who knows?

What we do know is that an argument broke out and when Jesus heard all this he responds with a bit of righteous indignation: “O faithless generation, how long am I to be with you? How long am I to bear with you? Bring him to me.”

He calls them a faithless generation. He asks to rhetorical questions to suggest that his patience is wearing out with them. And then he says, “Bring him to me.” We’ll come back to Jesus criticism. But for now, consider those last words with me. “Bring him to me.” 

Where was help to be found for this man and his son? He had exhausted whatever resources he had had at his own disposal long ago. As we’ll see in the next point, this had been going on since the son was little. He had nothing left of his own to try. He had heard of Jesus, and thought he could find help. The only problem was that Jesus was not where he was supposed to be, and all he had was Jesus’ disciples. Honest, sincere, and compassionate as they may have been, they were helpless to do anything for this man.

They too proved to be just as capable (in themselves) as he had been. That is to say, not at all! The scribes weren’t helpful either. Maybe they were condemning the man and/or his son. “It’s because this man is a sinner that his son has this demon!” It wouldn’t be the first time that was said.

Whatever the case, neither the man, nor the disciples, nor the scribes could do anything for this boy. And yet, it is exactly into that moment of anguish that Jesus speaks: “Bring him to me.”

What then, my friends, do these words touch upon in your own life? What family member, friend, neighbor? About whom is Jesus looking to you, saying, “Bring him to me.” His problems have exhausted his own resources, your resources—all the wisdom you have, humanly speaking. Nothing has worked. Jesus says, “Bring him to me. Bring her to me.” Is it a straying child? Bring her to Jesus. Is it an alcoholic uncle? Bring him to Jesus. Maybe it’s a spouse. Bring him, bring her to Jesus.

Will that really work? You wonder. Well, I certainly cannot promise that you will always get exactly what you want from Jesus. But I can say that you will get what you need.

The father confesses his faith in Jesus (vv.20-24)

But look with me in the second place at vv.20-24. Here we see a most remarkable thing. Here the father confesses his faith in Jesus—as well as his unbelief!

After Jesus’ invitation, the boy was brought to him. And immediately, the spirit—seeing Jesus—convulsed the boy, so that it threw him to the ground and he foamed at the mouth, rolling around.

And Jesus—cool as a cucumber—asks, “How long has this been gong on?” From childhood, the man sons. He adds—to describe just how dangerous this is—that the boy is often thrown into water, or fire. And the clear aim of this spirit is to destroy him. And then he says, “But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.”

And this is striking. This entire scene—especially with what he’s going to say in a minute—sets these two ideas on display. On the one hand, this man has some expectation that Jesus is going to be able to help his son. He believes that Jesus is capable of answering his request. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have come to him in the first place. But here he says, “if you can do anything…”

He’s really not so sure. He figures it’s a long shot. Odds are million to one that Jesus can help—but literally everything else is a big fat zero. A million to one, may not be much of a chance, but it’s infinitely better than zero.

And I absolutely adore Jesus’s response: “‘If you can!’ All things are possible for the one who believes.” “If you can.” Jesus is—as it were—caught off guard by such naivety. The man is desperate. He has only the faintest idea who Jesus is and what he can do. And so he says, “Lord, I realize what I’m asking here is insane. And probably way beyond anything reasonable, or even possible. But I’ve heard that help can be found here. And so, if you can do anything, please, show some compassion to me and to my son. Help us.”

This is similar to, but different from what we see in Mark 1:40-41, “And a leper came to him, imploring him, and kneeling said to him, ‘If you will, you can make me clean. Moved with pity, he stretched out his hand and touched him and said to him, ‘I will; be clean.”

There’s miles of difference between “if you can” and “if you will.” One refers to ability, the other to desire. Having been asked “if he will” previously, he’s now asked if he can.

And can you hear Jesus’s tone of voice here? Without being rude or cruel, he laughs in incredulity at the lack of understanding in this man. “If you can!” Do you know who you’re talking to!? Imagine if your life depended on making a lay up on a basketball court. Some of you might feel confident enough to take the shot. But pretend for a moment that you had access to Michael Jordan and could ask him to take the shot for you, and you ask him, “Sir, if you’re able to help…” It’s laughable. Of course he could make a lay up!

This helpless father has only the faintest idea what he’s asking. And while Jesus with something of a smile says, “if you can!”, nevertheless, he doesn’t chide and rebuke the man. He tells him plainly, “Look, all things are possible for the one who believes.” The sky is the limit for what can be done here! And immediately the man’s faith burst forth: “I believe; help my unbelief!” And as much as I love Jesus’ words, “if you can!” I equally love these. It’s so honest and desperate. Remember Jesus had just told him that all things are possible for the one who believes. Without hesitation, the man interjects and lays it all on the line.

He knows that his faith is—what we might call—small, or weak. He really hasn’t been all that sure that this is going to work. But he does have some faith. He has some conviction and assurance that Jesus is going to be able to do something. He may not quite know what it is that Jesus can do, and even more than that, what he will do, but he has asked. And when Jesus says, all things are possible if you believe, the man cannot contain himself, “I believe! Yes I believe.” And then in order to be as completely honest as he possibly can be he says, “help my unbelief.” Yes Lord, I believe. And I also, kind of, don’t. My faith isn’t what I want it to be. It’s not what it should be. It’s much smaller than should be expected.

Friends, do you believe? Do you believe that Jesus is your only hope? Do you trust that he can help? I don’t mean: do you have gigantic faith that everyone that knows you envies and hopes to replicate in his life? No, I mean, do you have faith at all? Do you believe that Jesus is you only hope in life and in death? Can you say these words, “I believe; help my unbelief!”

Friends, mark the desperation of this man. He has brought his son to Jesus. It’s a matter of life and death, he fears. This has nearly cost his son his life since he was a baby, likely. What concerns do you have that bring similar levels of desperation? What person were you thinking of earlier whom you need to bring to Jesus? Or what problem are you facing—in whatever relationship or situation—that has you at the brink?  Look, even if you have to say, “Lord I believe, help my unbelief!” You need to go! You need to go to Jesus! Why would you let something stop you? Maybe you still are quite sure how Jesus would respond. Well, let’s press on to see.

Jesus casts out the demon and teaches his disciples (vv.25-29)

In the third place, we see Jesus cast out the demon and teach his disciples a very important lesson. In vv.25-27, Jesus sees the crowd gathering, rebukes the evil spirit and casts its out—forever. The spirit cried out, seized the boy, throwing him down, and left. The result was the sense that the boy was dead. He looked like a corpse, and so many said that he had died. Jesus, however, took the boys hand, and he he arose.

Now, interestingly, we aren’t told anything else about the man, his faith, or even about how he received his son back from the dead, as it were. Mark completely skips over those details and gets right to the heart of the matter. Having left the scene and returned to the house, the disciples asked him a question that had been burning in their minds: “Why could we not cast it out?”

And here we come—as I just said—the point. Jesus’ answer is most illustrative for us: And he said to them, “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer.” What does that mean?

Does that mean that they could cast out certain kinds of demons and needn’t bother to pray? They could do that in their own strength. They were sufficient to cast out some demons, but not others? 

Furthermore, how come he says this kind can only be driven out by prayer when—I’m not sure if you noticed—but Jesus doesn’t pray at all in this passage.

Well, first of all, it is unlikely that Jesus wanted them to conclude that there are some things they don’t need to pray about. Jesus says in John 15 that apart from him, they could do nothing! So, it hardly seems here in Mark he’s saying that there are somethings they can do on their own, and there are other things—the really hard things—that they need his help with.

Well, in answer to this question, we should remember that back in Mark 6, Jesus had commissioned his twelve disciples, sending them out two by two, giving them authority over the unclean spirits. The result of this, we find in v.13, “And they cast out many demons and anointed with oil many who were sick and healed them.” 

He had already given them authority over evil spirits. So, why do they hit a roadblock with this one? Well, not so that they may conclude that there are some things for which they don’t need prayer! Quite the opposite! It’s so that they can realize just how vital prayer actually is! Which brings us to the second question. Why does Jesus say this since he doesn’t pray at all in this passage?

The most coherent answer is that Jesus’ life was so marked by prayer that literally everything he did, he did by prayer. Jesus never did anything apart from prayer.

Conclusion

And so, the question must be asked: What are you attempting to do on your own? What are we attempting to do on our own? What problems in your life are you attempting to deal with prayerlessly? What things have you refused or forgotten to bring to the Jesus? Those are two important considerations. Most of you—I hope!—certainly would not fall into the first category of prayerlessness. Christians certainly aren’t people who simply refuse to pray about things. If there is something you are purposefully refusing to pray about, that is a massive problem. But, again, my guess is that it’s unlikely that many (if anyone) here is actively refusing to bring something to the Lord in prayer.

But do you just…forget to pray? Do you find yourself just living? Just doing things—even really hard things—and just not praying. Not because you object to the practice—obviously! But because you just…don’t quite see the need. You don’t quite feel the desperation.

Are you like the disciples the night before Jesus’ murder, sleeping in the garden? The spirit is willing, but man, the flesh is weak! You do pray sometimes, but are their times you’re just living too confidently in the flesh—or even in past blessings or appointments. The disciples had been given authority over unclean spirits. And yet, they had come—in some way—to forget that neither the authority nor the power lies in themselves.

They were operating in their own authority, by their own power, and they hit an immovable object. And they were laid out, flat on their faces. Their utter helplessness was revealed. Brothers and sisters, where is the Lord withdrawing from you in order to expose your self-reliance, your forgetfulness. 

Is there a hard conversation that you need to have with someone? You need to pray. Is there a sin struggle that you need to put to death? Pray. Is there a hardship that you need to endure? You need to pray. Is there a step of faith you need to take at work? You need to pray?

What about us? What ministry opportunities do we fail to pray for? Do you pray for the preaching ministry of RBC? Do you pray for our counseling ministry? Do you pray for the elders and deacons? Do you pray for our men and women? Our marriages? Do you pray for our teenagers? Our children? Do you pray for our neighbors? Do we pray for our visitors? Do we pray for our endeavors overseas—Nigeria, and soon to be Romania? Do we pray for our endeavors around here? We’ve spoken often about wanting to engage our local community more. Are you praying about that? Are you praying for open doors and the courage and willingness to walk through them here?

Some kind of closing illustration.

I need to say this as directly as I can: if we are not praying—as individuals, families, and as a church—we aren’t going to make it. Maybe the sign out front will always say “Redeemer Baptist Church” but what condition will be in? I want you to think about 25 years from. Imagine. The sign out front is sparkling and clean. The lawn is always perfectly manicured. All the potholes are fixed—the whole parking lot is repaved. All the AC units are in perfect working condition. We’ve expanded this building in order to fit all the people people coming here on the Lord’s Day to worship—and even then we feel like we’re about to burst at the seams. Giving is through the roof. And we are doing lots of things. There’s something to do for everyone of every age. Men have things to do. Women have things to do. Students and children.

And whatever else you might say…but we just…aren’t praying. Sure, we offer some perfunctory prayers during corporate worship and before we eat. But as individuals, as families, and as a church, we just aren’t praying. We aren’t casting ourselves daily—even hourly—upon the throne of grace. We aren’t seeking for mercy in our time of need. We’re just too busy to prayer. Things are going too well. We’re too happy, pleased with ourselves and our circumstances. God forbid!

One of my greatest fears as a pastor is that RBC would become a really well-oiled machine and so I forget to pray. I’m not saying that I relish times of difficulty, exactly. But it is true that difficulty (like we see in Mark 9) can bring us to the end of ourselves in a way that ease cannot. I’m not sure what the future holds—comfort or conflict. At the broader cultural level, the war with Iran threatens to make life for us much more difficult—if not dangerous, at least expensive! Midterm elections will surely bring conflict and arguments. Not to mention whatever other things may strike our own families and church.

So here's the deal. Do you see the vital importance of prayer for yourself? For your family? For our church? For our community, state, and nation? For the world? This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer. There are times we “get away” without praying. God doesn’t expose our prayerlessness at every time, but there are times when—for our own good—that is exactly what he must do. What will it be? What will be shown in the days to come? Will it be prayerlessness? Or will we—like the father here—cast ourselves in utter desperation upon the Son of Man, asking for compassion and help—even if we have to say with him, “I believe; help my unbelief.”

Lord’s Supper

Well we don't have water here at the table, but we have a related image before us: bread and wine. And we now have the great blessing of joining together in the bond of peace and the unity of Spirit around the table of the Lord. The Lord’s Supper is the sacramental meal of God’s people. Here (along with the sacrament of baptism) the gospel is made visible. In the Lord’s supper we see the bread and the wine—representations of the body and the blood of Christ, broken and shed for sinners. 

When we receive them by faith, we are made partakers of his body and blood, with all his benefits, to our spiritual nourishment and growth in grace. The table invites us to look in four directions each week as we join together. First, we look backward to our Savior. We look to Jesus and what he did for us in his life, death, and resurrection. We look with faith, trusting that what he did is sufficient to put is right with God.

Second, the table also invites us to look forward to our Savior who is coming again to bring out the consummation of what we began at his first coming. We look forward to the day when faith gives way to sight and the restoration of his kingdom is complete.

Third, the table also invites us to look inwardly—at the present moment—and examine our own hearts. While the Table is not fundamentally about our worthiness, we must reckon with the fact that we can come in an unworthy manner. We come boldly but we dare not come flippantly without having examined ourselves. We need not be sinless (nor can we be sinless). But we ought not come in rank hypocrisy with unconfessed sin.

And fourth, the table invite us to look around. This isn’t so that we might look around in order to judge others, but to provoke ourselves to seek reconciliation where their is division. Are you at odds with a brother or sister? Then you should deal with that unresolved conflict before coming to the Table.

Who then should come to the table? In short, the Lord’s Supper is for the Lord’s people. If you love the Lord Jesus, trust in his atoning death, find refuge in his eternal priesthood, have been baptized and publicly confessed Christ as Lord, and are striving for peace with your fellow Christians, then you are invited and encouraged to join us in celebrating this sacred meal. If you are not a Christian, have not professed faith, are under church discipline, or living in unrepentant sin. Do not partake. We would ask that you remain seated and be reconciled to God!

In 1 Corinthians 10-11, the Apostle Paul describes the Lord’s Supper as a participation in the body and blood of Christ, warns against partaking in an unworthy manner, and instructs each one to examine himself. In particular, we need to examine ourselves regarding our faith in Christ and our unity with his body, lest—as Paul warns—we eat and drink judgment upon ourselves. Therefore, let us prayerfully engage in final moment of silent examination before God, and then we will eat/drink together. Prayer.

We’re going begin with the middle section, starting at the back. You will exit to your right, come up this aisle to the table, and then return down this aisle, filling in from the left. Then, once the all of the middle section has gone, the outer sections will file inward, toward the middle; you will do this at the same time as one another. Both sections will walk up, receive the elements, and then return to their seats down the outer-most aisle by the windows.

Please hold on to both elements until everyone has been seated, and then we will eat and drink together. And remember the outer ring of each tray is grape juice and all the inner rings are wine. Come, let us receive with thanksgiving the body and blood and Jesus Christ as depicted in these elements.

“For this I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’” [Eat]. 

“Likewise, after supper, he took the cup, saying ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood, do this as often as you drink it in remembrance of me.’ [Drink]. “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes.” Let’s stand and sing together.