Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, "I believe; help my unbelief!" - Mark 9:24
This father brings his son to Jesus who has, from childhood, suffered from a spirit that would seize him causing him to be mute, foam at his mouth, and grind his teeth. You can almost feel the desperation this father must have felt, watching his son for years be controlled by this spirit. We then find out that he has already taken his son to see Jesus' disciples but they were unable to heal the boy. But still desperate for change, he believes Jesus has the power to heal his boy. After bringing him to Jesus he finally submits his request saying,
"But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us."
Not exactly a statement of firm faith, 'if you can do anything'. I see so much of my self in this father. I come before Jesus, but doubt his strength. I trust Jesus can change things, but doubt He will. But nonetheless, he is there. He is desperate before Jesus, bringing with him his doubts and questions. Listen to Jesus' response...
"'If you can'! All things are possible for one who believes."
Jesus ensures the man that anything is possible. Jesus has the power to save, the power to heal, the power to restore his son. Jesus is all powerful, and He ensures the father of this. Yet, the father's fears, doubts, angst, desperation is not lost on Jesus. He is not lectured for his doubts, but rather, Jesus enters into the this man's struggle. Jesus hears the father's request and boldly states, "All things are possible for one who believes." The father, without hesitation, cries out to Jesus in response,
"I believe; help my unbelief!"
I resonate with the father. Here he is bringing his son because he has a fraction of belief that Jesus is who He says He is. That Jesus can save, but more out of desperation than out of conviction. There are things about Jesus that I am sure of, but there are plenty of areas in which I doubt. I am sure that Jesus is sufficient for my salvation. I am sure of his death and the imputed righteousness over my life. I tend to believe God for the "big things." But I find myself in the father's statement, "I believe; help my unbelief!" Because there are areas of my heart that haven't been renovated toward the things of God. There are areas of my heart that question and doubt, that still come to God more out of desperation than conviction. There are areas that desperately need more grace to cover my unbelief. For me, this shows itself, seemingly daily, in different ways...
I rely too much on the words of others for my validation. Help my unbelief.
I lust for things that are not mine, doubting that God is sufficient for me. Help my unbelief.
I trust my own ability to achieve righteousness through religious activity. Help my unbelief.
I choose sin over holiness thinking it is a better way than what Jesus promises. Help my unbelief.
Jesus' response to the fathers declaration is to heal the boy, not to scold or lecture the father on his unbelief. But he lovingly demonstrates to the Father His power again. He heals the boy as a testimony to his power. I think Jesus understands our struggle to trust. He understands that we need continual reminders that He is who He says He is. I find a great deal of comfort that Jesus gives room for unbelief. We don't have to have it all together before Jesus, we don't have to dress up our doubts in a thin vail of certainty so we don't appear weak before the God who knows our hearts. No, Jesus is ok with our questions. He is bigger than our doubts. He allows the father to declare his questions and doubts, Jesus leaves room for uncertainty.
Jesus leaves space at his feet for the broken, desperate, and the uncertain. And this is a beautiful truth of Jesus.
So for now, like the father, I am there in the presence of Jesus. It may be out of desperation, but I am there. Daily I will throw myself at the grace of God, because, ultimately, I know that there, in the presence of Jesus, I can lay down my unbelief and Jesus will not turn his face from me. I can come with questions and doubts and Jesus will listen to me. There is room for my insecurities and my sin. There is room for my uncertainty. Jesus invites me to bring it, all of it, to him, and to allow room for Him to renovate my heart.
The space before Jesus is vast and level. It is a space for all to come as they are, in doubt and uncertainty.
Jesus, I believe, but help my unbelief.