Holding On

Intro:

There is a lot packed into our gospel text this morning — demon possession, large crowd, chaos, healing… but one thing permeates this text and we are going to dive into it this morning — faith.

Have you ever noticed how struggles in our lives can bring faith into view?

When everything is going well, our faith can run on autopilot. Church and prayer become part of a routine. Because things are going well, we don’t even notice. We simply do what we normally do. But, then when things start to fall apart, faith comes into view.

It is like shining a flashlight into a dark room, trials can illuminate our faith. They bring faith into view.

Normally, this experience is painful but positive.

Toby, who had stopped going to church, suddenly comes again. Why? Because his daughter left home without leaving a forwarding address.

Lucy’s prayer life has increased dramatically. Why? Because the doctor found a spot on her lung. Trials, like a flashlight, illuminate our faith... and, sometimes, this is a good thing. We see faith revive.

Other times, however, we see a darker picture. Instead of faith getting stronger, it weakens. When trials come and the batteries in the flashlight seem to be going dead, the darkness gets darker. And then we find our faith huddled in a corner, shrinking, and dying.

The light is going out.

Yes, many people have come back to the church during a family dispute, but just as many have walked farther away. Yes, illness has led some to pick up their bible, but it has led others to look elsewhere.

When trials reveal faith, the experience is not always positive. Instead of a strong and vibrant return to Jesus, we see a deeper questioning of God and a growing reluctance to believe in anything at all. Faith wavers. Prayers are questions filled with anger. Hope becomes just a dreamlike fantasy from a Netflix show which seems so distant from reality.

Today, Mark helps us see and name these situations. He calls us to stop pretending faith is always going to get stronger in all situations and recognize that sometimes it gets weaker. Mark wants us to come face-to-face with this ugly reality, so he can bring us face-to-face with Jesus, our beautiful Savior.

T: The beauty of our gospel reading today is how it reveals Jesus as the One who comes not only for the strong in faith but also for those who are weak and walking away.

The Text:

Consider our text this morning through the eyes of the father (of the demon possessed child):

walk through the story in the father’s shoes

Now the father is standing before Jesus face to face.

Consider the moment when the father stands before Jesus. At first, the father’s heart was filled with hope. He brought his child to the disciples for healing. They had cast out spirits and his son has a spirit. Yet, they were unable to do anything. Then, his heart was filled with frustration as the religious leaders began to argue. While his son suffers, all they want to do is argue about religion: “Who can cast out demons, where, when, and why?” By the time Jesus arrives, the father has had it. His heart is nearly empty of faith.

They bring his child before Jesus and the spirit, as if to demonstrate its power, throws the child to the ground. His son rolls at Jesus’ feet, foaming at the mouth. Jesus asks how long this has been happening and the father tells his life story. For years, his son has been tormented by this spirit. Sometimes, the spirit throws his son into water to drown him. Other times, the spirit throws his son into fire to burn him. Always, the spirit seeks to kill him. This spirit has taken the joy of childhood and replaced it with suffering, the joy of fatherhood and replaced it with fear, and the power of faith and made it seem foolish.

So, the father reaches down into his empty heart and gives his final plea. He says to Jesus, “If you are able, have compassion on us and help us” (9:22).

Suddenly, Jesus is troubled by something more than the evil spirit and the child rolling on the ground. Jesus is troubled by a father who is letting go; falling away from faith. So, before Jesus does anything for the son, Jesus speaks with tough love to the father. “If you can?” Jesus says. He wants the father to hear his doubt. “Everything is possible with faith.”

Jesus brings the father face-to-face with his faith, which is dying, so he can stand face-to-face before his Jesus who can save him.

T: The father’s reply, “I do believe; help my unbelief!” — this is a confession to Jesus. He is saying I do, but I don’t, it has been so long.

Today:

Our story reflects so often that of this father — when struggles linger, when things go chaotic, when tragedy bites — the batteries in the flashlight begin to go out and the darkness gets bigger and we start letting go…

Those words of the father are our words today: “I do believe; help my unbelief!”

We believe but it isn’t that simple — we have our doubts, our struggles, our feeling of is this really worth it.

Simultaneously we are saint and sinner, believer and doubter — and it is in that space we come face to face with Jesus in all the chaos.

Dr. Chad Bird has a prayer I want to share with you that reflects this plea we so often have:

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 every step I take.

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, your bride and the devil’s whore.

Lord, I believe. Help Thou my unbelief.

As we so often let go, Jesus holds on.

That is the Jesus we worship — full of grace and truth — patience and love.

Conclusion:

Here’s the beauty of grace in this text: How Jesus holds on to people who are letting go. 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 and grumbling, all of our reservations and running and sets it at the feet of Jesus... and Jesus, when face-to-face with our ugliness, brings us face-to-face with His beautiful bountiful grace.

Jesus is a Savior who has come to save. A bruised reed, He will not break. A smoldering wick, He will not snuff out.

Weak faith, He will not deny.

Jesus has come to die for all people; you who are strong in faith and you who are weak in faith and you who have no faith at all. When Jesus died on the cross, He died for the sin of unbelief so that, when He rose, He brings forgiveness and restoration to all.

The healing of the demon possessed boy was an amazing miracle but it wasn’t the main beauty of this passage. The main beauty that I want you to take away from this passage this morning is what it reveals about Jesus.

Jesus holds on to you even as you 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 is holding on to you.

And, as Jesus says in John 10: No one will be able to snatch you out of His hand (John 10:28).

So, today, we can be honest about our struggles in faith because Jesus has come with His all-powerful grace.

He… is… holding… on!

Amen!?

Amen!