And [Jesus] asked [the boy’s] father, “How long has this been happening to him?” And he said, “From childhood. It has often thrown him both into the fire and into the water to destroy him. But if You can do anything, take pity on us and help us!” And Jesus said to him, “ ‘If You can?’ All things are possible to him who believes.” Immediately the boy’s father cried out and said, “I do believe; help thou my unbelief.” …..He rebuked the unclean spirit, saying to it, “You deaf and mute spirit, I command you, come out of him and do not enter him again.” After crying out and throwing him into terrible convulsions, it came out; and the boy became so much like a corpse that most of them said, “He is dead!” But Jesus took him by the hand and raised him; and he got up.
--Mark 9:21-27
Having grown up in church and having read my Bible cover to cover multiple times, I’ve been familiar with this story for quite a while. There are many like it throughout the gospels; Jesus did a lot of healing during His brief time here. One phrase that makes this particular story stand out to me is one I’ve never understood and have never heard anyone talk about much—“I do believe; help Thou my unbelief!” I don’t think there is any phrase in the Bible so fraught with internal conflict, or so seemingly contradictory on the surface. I myself have tended to gloss over it, never able to understand what in the world this man was saying:
“I do believe…”
Well, that’s fantastic then! Stand back and let Jesus do His thing!
“….help Thou my unbelief!”
……What?? You just said you believe! How can you believe and NOT believe at the same time?!
I suppose God has a way of answering questions we didn’t know we were asking, for I have recently begun to understand and echo this long-dead father’s plea. Let’s take a look at his situation for a moment.
This man had a son whom he loved dearly, who was very sick. The boy had an evil spirit that would send him into seizures, often at inopportune times or in dangerous places. Having been witness to a seizure before, I can tell you it’s one of the more frightening medical emergencies to see. At least when there’s blood you can DO something about it, but the proper first aid response to a seizure is to move dangerous items away from the victim and let them seize (and call for medical assistance, of course). There is nothing you can do for them, until the seizure passes. This father had to watch his son go through this on a regular basis. The spirit also made the boy a mute; so not only was he in regular, constant pain, he could not communicate well with anyone around him. Imagine your son in a similar situation; tell me you wouldn’t be in agony about it.
I think I understand what the worst part about all this was for this man. It wasn’t the fact that his son was in pain—although that was awful enough, to be sure. It wasn’t the money he undoubtedly spent on physicians to help his son; it wasn’t the unfairness of it; it wasn’t even his own pain watching his son suffer that was the worst part. The worst part for this father was the fact that he saw no way his situation would ever improve. As he watched his son seize and anguished in the lack of communication with him, as he saw doctor after doctor and no one could help his boy, his hope must have dwindled away quietly until all that was left was a hollow acceptance that this was the way things would always be. When he heard this famous Healer and Teacher, Jesus, was coming to town, I’m certain he must’ve had to muster up whatever was left of his hope to go see him.
It’s plain to see, when this man meets Jesus, that he is beaten and grief-stricken. He practically begs Jesus to do whatever He can to help his son, and Jesus tells him anything is possible for one who believes. I can imagine this man’s disheartenment—had he not been believing all along? Had he not held out hope until he had none left? Had he not done everything in his power, and then some, to keep his faith and his family’s faith alive?
Here’s where the seeming contradiction comes in. The man wasn’t angry with God, he hadn’t even lost his faith. He knew Jesus could help him; intellectually, and in his spirit, he still had faith. At the same time, in his heart, he was tired, afraid, a broken man. Hope felt like a dangerous proposition, and trying to imagine a better future took more energy than he possessed. The man had not lost his faith; he simply couldn’t feel it anymore. He had not lost his ability to believe; but he could only do so intellectually now. Hope had no purchase, no hold in his heart.
So he cried to Jesus, “I do believe! I know you can help my son, I know you can restore him and heal us both! I know this like I know the sun will rise tomorrow! But help my unbelief—because I cannot feel it. I cannot look at you and say with conviction that I have hope for a better tomorrow. I do not. Help me to believe—in my heart—again.”
This man was completely open and honest with Jesus, and Jesus honored that request. He healed the man’s son, and I have no doubt He restored the man’s broken heart as well.
I have no doubt that someone reading this is at a point where they feel like nothing will ever get better. You may know in your head that God loves you and wants the best for you; you may still love Him more than anything, and have faith that He has your best interests at heart. You may know all this, but be unable to feel it in your heart. If imagining a better future seems impossible, if you literally can’t see a light at the end of your tunnel, if you try to avoid hoping because you can’t afford to be disappointed again—you too can pray the prayer this man did. It’s not a contradiction, it is honesty. And the Lord honors that more than He does false praise and a façade of “I’m fine.”
Just be open with Him. He knows what’s in your heart already; why try to hide it? Or, if you’re like me; why acknowledge He knows it, but still insist on patching up your own heart before offering it to Him?
What do you think; have you ever done either of these things? Leaving your comment below may encourage someone in a similar situation!
