| February 25, 2007
You are welcome to reflect on this message
When it comes to believing, folks are all over the spectrum. Some people will believe anything and others believe nothing much and everything else in-between. Our text features a true believer. It’s a corrective for the curse of gullibility. We begin life in innocence, but hopefully we learn to think for ourselves. The world’s still reeling from the damage of entire nations just following orders. I’m too much of a Baptist to let somebody else do my believing for me.
Easy-believism is the kind of naivete for which I have the most distaste; mostly because it’s by far the most unchristian; the most un-Jesus-like. I recall a seminary student who was one of the architects of The Southern Baptist Convention takeover complaining, “They tried to change me.” Power-grabs occur when seminary students don’t change.
Indoctrination requires allegiance to unexamined ideas, accepting what’s been handed down from unquestioned oracles, by ordained bishops, who deem it their calling to tell us these things. No place is this more so than with the Bible. But there's nothing “true” about a way of believing, that resents questions. We don’t do that in Biology class, or our political life, or the sports arena. If you don’t ask questions at the bank or a car dealer, you’re in trouble. We ought to know better. It makes no sense to abandon modern knowledge and recent discoveries – except those views which support what we want to hear. This kind of believing has all the answers, claiming an inerrant method of being spoon-fed what you’re told to believe. Creationists are threatened at evolutionists because the evidence is inconvenient. I call it lousy-believism. Because it destroys anything truly human; and everything that’s truly God. Other than that it's OK.
Jesus taught us to “be wise as serpents, harmless as doves.” Warm-hearted, sharp-minded. Because the worst thing about softmindedness is, it eliminates those grand rascals who've said so much about life and God that’s stood the test of time – who insecure religious folks call infidels or worse, Unitarians! And that’s progress, they used to burn ‘em at the stake! Radical rascals like Roger, Fosdick, Marney, Coffin, King. And I must include my cousin Molly, as well as my patron sinner, Richard Pryor and other various and sundry thinkers who get fired or tried for heresy for being honest. All now dead rascals but not forgotten. But this line-up of grand rascals has far more integrity than any of those fair-haired believers, in the company of the “dull and void,” or worse, the irrelevant. Or are scared to death of creativity and imagination and haven't had a new thought since their primary department days.
I'm talking about a simplistic-believism, that’s never let itself experience the agony of ambiguity, or knows no passion for any complex cause. I've met too many of these kinds of believers in our churches, because church can become a magnificent place to hide. O yeah, when our churches make no real demand for serious commitment to Christ, no meaningful requirement for integrity of membership, no open concern for anything beyond its four walls, or the success syndrome, the old numbers game, what better place is there to hide? That’s why the ones who gave Jesus fits were the most religious.
I think most people are searching for a way to believe that doesn't avoid the obvious; or apologize for the facts; a way to believe that doesn't deny what it means to be human; to doubt; to question. A way to believe that doesn’t eliminate the seeker-saint, the doubter-saint, the sinner-saint. There must be another way. As a matter of fact, there is. If you have a passion for intellectual integrity, as well as warm spirituality, then you're in luck. There’s a true believer in our text, who said: “Lord, I believe.” He spoke the religiously correct words. Then he decided to be honest and added, “But help my unbelief.” The most honest words in the Bible. Clean and lean: “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.” There's not an ounce of phoniness. Just pure, unadulterated sincerity. A simultaneous admission of faith, doubt, and hope. How much more human can somebody get? If there's any truer believer anywhere, I'd like to see one. Because anybody who has the guts to seek God's help that requires faith -- in spite of lingering disbelief -- that’ll make a believer out of you!
Either way, this is a prayer, we’d do well to practice every now and then. I’ve never met anybody whose beyond it. Like the epileptic boy's daddy, all of us are varied mixtures of belief and unbelief. It goes with the territory of earth-bound living. Especially if you’re brave enough to love somebody. Guaranteed to make a doubter out of you!
Today we cry, “Lord, I believe!” Tomorrow we wonder about it. In the physical areas of life, we believe so easily. But in the realm of the spirit/emotions, depending on what's happened to you and how you've responded to it, about the best we can do is, “Help my unbelief.” In theory, we believe. In practice, we deny it. We pray, “thy kingdom come,” but some days we only half-believe it’s coming, if that. Spiritual schizophrenia requires both truth and honesty. Who said being faithful required unblemished believing?
Jesus didn't. (See Mt. 27:46). Why should we? No sooner had he come down the mount of transfiguration into the valley, than he encounters a man at the end of his rope. Jesus' disciples tried to heal his son, but they could only whine in helplessness, “Why could we not cast it out?” The age-old question posed by every generation on earth: how do we get rid of evil? Luke says “We can’t ... on our own.” You can try for yourself, but it’s inevitable: evil will make a believer out of you! The father had nowhere else to turn. So his faith was understandably laced with doubt. With wide swatches of insecurity down in his soul, he was a true, half believer, who can also teach us about the nature of faith. We left Jesus and 3 disciples up on the mountain of bliss last week. Above it all, where if the disciples had their druthers, would’ve gladly remained. And after all they’d been through, can’t blame them.
But today, they’re in the valley, where life gets messy and frustrating. There were no doubts on Mt. Tabor. Maybe some fear, but no more wondering who Jesus was: “This is my boy. Listen to him.” Moses and Elijah were there to confirm it; the same thing he thundered on baptism day. After the mountaintop they could see their way through anything. They’d seen the transfiguration of Jesus Christ! If they could just freeze it; contain it; market it. Build a bucket to carry it in. That's the mountain.
But this is the valley, where God’s working with a human tabernacle, that needed no building. But a whole lot of faith and even more prayer. Faith is such a people-builder that even half-faith would do! Jesus talked about faith like a “mustard seed.” When it comes to faith, there's not much permanence. No carry-overs from previous experience to cancel out the risk. That’s why we come back to church. We don’t just believe once. We have to keep on believing. Because yesterday's faith won’t support today's challenges. Even the most transcendent certainty like the transfiguration isn’t transferable from the mountain to the valley. Life isn't made that way. And neither are we. Even Jesus’ friend Lazarus had to die again!
No matter how many mountains you climb; how big a tabernacle you build; or how bright you glow; when you get back down in the valley of real life, that’s where the followers of Jesus were beaten, baffled and barren. A too frequent picture of the church, I’m afraid. And it frustrated Jesus. “O unbelieving generation! What’s it gonna take? Bring the boy to me.” Don’t you find it promising that Jesus didn't withhold healing from the boy because of the ineptness of his church. Now watch the Mountain Man go to work down in the valley. If his impatience with the disciples was apparent, so was his compassion for this half-believing father and his afflicted son. “How long has he been like this?” “Since a child.” Then the father cites the creed for valley-living: “If you can do anything, have pity and help us! “All things are possible to those who believe.” The mountain-top creed! Jesus apparently thought the boy's healing depended upon his father's believing. This creed isn’t found anywhere else outside the Gospels. The Apostle's didn't bother to include it in theirs. And a whole lot of denominations sure wouldn't stand for it. But it makes God smile: “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!” Wanting to cooperate; struggling to believe; honest, though doubtful, whose hope has been bruised by one failure too many. And that’s belief enough for Jesus!
You won’t get the certitude of biblical inerrancy from Mark. And you sure won’t from the Baptist named John: “Are you the one to come, or should we look for another?” There’s no greater expression of doubt. And Jesus was so impressed with John’s honesty, he said: “There is none greater.” “I believe; help my unbelief” always gets God’s attention. It's the phoniness and pretending and manipulating that gives God fits. (See Ananias and Sapphira Acts 5). Humility and an honest admission of doubt can tap into the power of God like few things can. My hunch is you can’t pray like this without experiencing liberating results. It’s a prayer that we’d better get familiar with. It can be scary but you haven’t fully lived till you’ve been caught in the cross hairs of life and somehow come through it intact.
This prayer needs to be prayed by the church: “Lord, we believe, but forgive our inflexibility & lack of daring.” Because the best thing God can do sometimes is to pull the rug of security out from under us. So whose been as far out on a limb as this father was, where only Jesus can help? Out there on that limb, far from safety and security is where you find Jesus. The church couldn’t cast it out. Only Jesus.
There were some true believers in the Galilee after the resurrection: “And when they saw him, they worshiped; but some doubted.” Now you’d think that meeting the living Lord in person would remove all doubts. If that doesn't do it, what’s it going to take? The transfiguration didn't and neither did the resurrection. That could mean our fitful days of faith and doubt is the way life was meant to be lived. But it could also mean that the best believers we can be this side o’ heaven, are honest half-believers. And as we have seen, even that's good enough for God.
Prayer: Sometimes its hard to believe in you Lord. We can’t help but feel for that father at the foot of the mountain. But we came today because we need you to "help our unbelief." We’ve seen too much to believe very much in "things not seen." We’ve done too much, and had too much done to us, that we’ve lived way too long for innocence. We’ve stayed too long around those who demand that others live up to their unrealistic expectations, but never allow them to do it.
Many other obstacles stand in the way of our faith – the innocent getting hurt; the guilty getting off; the poor getting nothing because the rich are getting it all. And life gets away from us and before we know it, its over. We wanta believe. Its just that we feel like some things are "too true to be good."
Forgive us for expecting too much from our faith. We prefer one that makes everything clear and uncomplicated, so we don’t have to think too much on more than one level. Save us from our illusions of security, and grant us a steady kind of faith that "slowly grows and grows," even if its mixed with doubts...not one that "comes and goes ... in a heated rush."
May this worship grant us a sense of direction toward the "narrow path, and not the broad one that leads to destruction." Remind us that its in the broken places that make our faith strong. So may the old, old story of the Christ who loved people, in spite of their faltering faith, bring renewed hope to those of us worshiping in The Meeting House today. Give us an eye for beauty, an ear for truth, and a heart that longs for Thee. Amen. |
