Exegetical and Hermeneutical Commentary of Mark 9:24
And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.
Mar 9:24
Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief.
Faith unto salvation
This incident will show us what believing presupposes and consists in.
I. The text shows a man that is in earnest. He cried out with tears. They were tears that told how his heart was moved.
II. We look at this man, and we find that there is more than a general earnestness about him. We see the tokens of a special and active desire to have the blessings which faith was to secure for him. So he who is awakened to flee from the wrath to come.
1. He seeks forgiveness. Sin is not a light thing in his eyes.
2. He longs for healing of the disease of his soul.
3. To say all in a word, his desire is set upon salvation.
III. The operation of this desire. It is an active desire.
1. It makes a man pray and cry to God. It is a time of felt need.
2. It may cast into an agony, which may evince itself in tears. There is a melting power in strong desires that agitate the soul.
3. The desire for salvation will cause you to seek for faith. We are justified by faith; no holiness without it.
4. There will be an effort to believe. It is not God that believes; we have to believe. He would not command you to believe, if it were idle for you to try.
IV. He feels his need of grace for the exercise of faith-Help mine unbelief. My own resources are not sufficient for it. A true sense of the need of grace to believe is a great step towards the act of believing.
V. The man betakes himself to Christ. I need grace and I look to Thee for it. So is it with all those that are about to believe. Thou hast destroyed thyself, but in Me is thy help. The fulness of Christ is unlimited.
VI. The man has a distinct conception of the grand obstacle which grace must remove-Unbelief. Why is it that unbelief has so great an ascendancy? Because it possesses the heart.
VII. We find that the man does believe-Lord, I believe. I must believe is the first step. The next, I can believe. The third, I will believe. The last step, I do believe. (Andrew Gray.)
Worlds of faith
We have often heard of George Muller, of Bristol. There stands, in the form of those magnificent orphan houses, full of orphans, supported without committees, without secretaries, supported only by that mans prayer and faith, there stands in solid brick and mortar, a testimony to the fact that God hears prayer. But, do you know that Mr. Mullers case is but one among many. Remember the work of Francke at Halle. Look at the Rough House just out of Hamburg, where Dr. Wichern, commencing with a few reprobate boys of Hamburg, only waiting upon Gods help and goodness, has now a whole village full of boys and girls, reclaimed and saved, and is sending out on the right hand and on the left, brethren to occupy posts of usefulness in every land. Remember the brother Gossner, of Berlin, and how mightily God has helped him to send out not less than two hundred missionaries throughout the length and the breadth of the earth, preaching Christ, while he has for their support nothing but the bare promise of God, and the faith which has learned to reach the hand of God, and take from it all it needs. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Dealing directly with God
Pastor Harms, in Hermannsburg, desired to send missionaries to the Gallas tribe in Africa, and in his life he is reported to have said: Then I knocked diligently on the dear Lord in prayer; and since the praying man dare not sit with his bands in his lap, I sought among the shipping agents, but came to no speed; and I turned to Bishop Gobat in Jerusalem, but had no answer; and then I wrote to the Missionary Krapf, in Mornbaz, but the letter was lost. Then one of the sailors who remained said, Why not build a ship, and you can send out as many and as often as you will. The proposal was good; but, the money! That was a time of great conflict, and I wrestled with God. For no one encouraged me, but the reverse; and even the truest friends and brethren hinted that I was not quite in my senses. When Duke George of Saxony lay on his death bed, and was yet in doubt to whom he should flee with his soul, whether to the Lord Christ and His dear merits, or to the pope and his good works, there spoke a trusty courtier to him: Your grace, straight forward makes the best runner. That word has lain fast in my soul. I had knocked at mens doors and found them shut; and yet the plan was manifestly good, and for the glory of God. What was to be done? Straight forward makes the best runner. I prayed fervently to the Lord, laid the matter in His hand, and as I rose up at midnight from my knees, I said, with a voice that almost startled me in the quiet room, forward now in Gods name! From that moment there never came a thought of doubt into my mind!
Weak faith clinging to a mighty object
There was once a good woman who was well known among her circle for her simple faith, and her great calmness in the midst of many trials. Another woman, living at a distance, hearing of her, said, I must go and see that woman, and learn the secret of her holy, happy life. She went; and accosting the woman, said, Are you the woman with the great faith? No, replied she, I am not the woman with the great faith; but I am the woman with a little faith in the great God. (Milman.)
Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief
I. Faith may be weak and partial in a real believer. However much some persons may talk of our religious faith being the result of inquiry and evidence, and depending solely on the power of the intellect, or on its feebleness, we know well that passion and prejudice, not only in religious matters, but in all other matters where our interests or our passions are involved, have a powerful influence on the formation of our opinions; and wherever prejudice or excited passion exists, a much stronger degree of evidence is required to fix our belief of a thing, than were our minds perfectly calm. So in religion.
II. To become strong in faith, we must persevere in prayer. Increase of faith does not come by argument or evidence, but by direct influence on the heart, sweeping away prejudice and calming the impetuous passions. He who gave can alone increase our faith. Let us ask of Him who is so willing to bestow. (B. Noel.)
The balance and the preponderance
I. It was so with the suppliant of this text. There was in him this co-existence of faith and credulity. It was not so much a suspended or a divided feeling, as of one who was postponing the great decision, or in whom some third thing, neither belief nor disbelief, was shaping itself; as we hear now of persons who can accept this and that in Jesus Christ, but who also refuse this and that, so that they come to have a religion of their own, of which He is one ingredient, but not the one or principal one. This mans state was not one of mixture or compromise; it was the conflict of two definite antagonists-faith and unbelief-competing within. He was not a half believer. He was a believer and an unbeliever, in one mind. The father of this story saw before him a Person who was evidently man, and yet to whom he was applying for the exercise of Deity. Brethren, if we can succeed in making the condition clear, there is a great lesson and moral in it. Many men in this age, like the well-known Indian teacher, are framing for themselves, without for a moment intending to be anything but Christians at last, a Christianity with the supernatural left out of it-miracle, prophecy, incarnation, resurrection, the God-man Himself, eliminated; and it is much to be feared that this kind of compromise is likely to be the Christianity of the educated Englishman in so much of the twentieth century as the world may be spared to live through. It will be a Christianity very rational, very intelligent, certainly very intelligible. But it will have parted with much that has made our Christianity a discipline; it will have got rid of that combination of opposite but not contrary and certainly not contradictory elements, which has been the trial yet also the triumph of the Divine Revelation which has transformed, by training and schooling, mind, heart, and soul. It will have done with that characteristic feature of the old gospel which made men suffer in living it; which made a man kneel before Jesus Christ as a Saviour to be wondered at as well as adored, with the prayer on his lips, Lord, I believe-help Thou mine unbelief.
II. There is a second thing to be noticed in the condition of this suppliant. He was one who knew and felt that, in all matters, whether of opinion or of practice, the sound mind acts upon a principle of preponderance. He believed and he disbelieved. He did not conceal from himself the difficulties of believing; the many things that might be urged against it. He was not one of those rash and fanatical people, who, having jumped or rushed to a certain conclusion, are incapable of estimating or even recognizing an argument against it-who bring to, their deliberations upon matters of everlasting importance minds thoroughly made up, and count all men first fools, and then knaves, who differ from them. No; the father of this demoniac boy saw two sides of this anxious question, and could not pretend to call its decision indisputable, whichever way it might go. He himself believed and disbelieved. But he was aware that, as nothing in the realm of thought and action is literally self-evident-nothing so certain, that to take into account its alternative would be idiocy or madness-a man who must have an opinion one way or the other, a man who must act one way or the other, is bound, as a reasonable being, to think and to act on the preponderance, if the scale do turn but in the estimation of a hair, of one alternative over the other. This man was obliged to form an opinion, in order that he might accordingly shape his conduct, on the mighty question, What was he to think of Christ? But he had a more personal, or at least a more urgent, motive still. In the agony of a tortured and possessed home, he could lose no chance presented to him of obtaining help and deliverance. If Jesus of Nazareth was what he heard of Him there was help, there was healing, in Him. The fathers heart beat warmly in his bosom, and it would have been unnatural, it would have been unfeeling, it would have been impossible, to leave such a chance untried. Action was required, and before action opinion. Therefore he only asked himself one question. Which way for me, which way at this moment, does the balance of probability incline? There is on the one side the known virtue, the proved wisdom, the experienced benevolence, the attested power-so much on the side of faith. There is on the other side the possibility of deception, the absence of a parallel, the antecedent improbability of an incarnation.
III. There is yet one more thought in the text, which must be just recognized before we conclude. This father tested truth by praying. He was not satisfied with saying, I believe and I disbelieve. It was not enough for him even to carry his divided state to Christ, and say, Lord, I believe and I disbelieve. No, he turned the conflict into direct prayer-Lord, I believe-help Thou mine unbelief! Many persons imagine that, until they have full and undoubting faith, they have no right and no power to pray. Yet here again the principle dwelt upon has a just application. If faith preponderates in you but by the weight of one grain over unbelief, that small or smallest preponderance binds you, not only to an opinion of believing, and not only to a life of obeying, but also, and quite definitely, to a habit of praying. Faith brings unbelief with it to the throne of grace, and prays for help against it to Him whom, on the balance and on the preponderance, it thinks to be Divine. Lord, I believe-help Thou mine unbelief. It is the prayer for the man who is formulating his faith, and has not yet arranged or modelled it to his satisfaction. It is the prayer for the man who is shaping his life, and has not yet exactly adjusted the principles which shall guide it. It is the prayer for the man in great trouble-who cannot see the chastening for the afflicting who feels the blow so severe that he cannot yet discern the Fathers hand dealing it. (Dean Vaughan.)
The only help for unbelief
I. The necessity of a full belief in the Saviour.
1. It is necessary as the foundation of all our Christian privileges and blessings. Our Lord continually laid it down as the condition of bestowing His favour; His apostles insisted upon the same holy doctrine.
2. It is clear in the very nature of things: we can do nothing of ourselves, by any independent effort, for our own salvation; we are estranged from God without the means of reconciliation.
II. Our natural inability to attain that belief and the method by which it is certainly attainable. If it required nothing more than the assent of the understanding, it would be clearly within own reach; it implies a disposition to receive all the doctrines of revealed truth, a submission to the law and love of God. It is idle to beseech of God a living faith, when we have no intention to imbibe those principles, to form that character, which a true faith implies. Look at the case of this man: there were no earthly prejudices which he resolved to keep; no earthly hindrances which he desired to set up; all he wanted was further light in his understanding, and a complete conviction in his heart; hence he honestly prayed his prayer to Him, in whose hand was the bestowal of these blessings.
III. The effect and triumph of it, when attained. It is the only means by which the enemies of our peace can be vanquished, and we prepared for our crown of rejoicing (1Jn 5:4). (J. Slade, M. A.)
The spirit of faith amid uncertainties
Let us take comfort in this wonderful saying. Never fear; whatever thoughts may from time to time move through the listening spirit. Deal firmly and bravely with your intellectual and spiritual tempters; repel them; cast yourself on God. Assert, in terms, the principle of faith. Say, I believe. Thus, at length, all shall be well. For the hour is at hand when doubt shall end forever, and when the Eternal Truth shall stand out clear before our eyes. Doubt and uncertainty belong to this life; at the end of the world they will sink to long burial, while the world also sinks away, and then we shall see all things plainly in the deep dawn beyond the tomb. In this dim life we see spiritual things imperfectly, yet ever draw we on to full, clear knowledge. Even so, a man might be led, step by step, through darkness, till he came out and stood on a narrow line of sandy beach hemming the border of the immeasurable deep, whose depth and majesty were hidden from his eyes by the cold veil of fog. But once let the winds arise and blow, and the dull, grey curtain, swaying awhile, shall be gathered into folds, and as a vesture shall it be laid aside; while, where it hung, now rolls the sea, clear, smooth, and vast, each wave reflecting the sunbeam in many-twinkling laughter; the broad surface sweeping back, to where the far horizon line is drawn across, firm and straight from one side of the world to the other. Faith sees already what we are to see for ourselves by-and-by, when Gods time is come. And, meanwhile, though we be here, on this narrow border of the world beyond, and though we cannot see far, and though the fog do sometimes chill, yet let us be men and shake ourselves, and move about; yea, let us build a fire as best we may on the wild shore, to keep off the cold and to keep us all in heart; and let us believe and trust, where we can neither see nor prove, and let us encourage one another and call to God. (Morgan Dix, D. D.)
The struggle and victory of faith
I. Faith and unbelief are often found in the same heart. The picture which Milton gives of Eve sleeping in the garden is true of us all. There is the toad-like spirit whispering evil dreams into the heart, and the angel is standing by to keep watch on the tempter. So the two worlds of faith and unbelief are close to the soul of man. When he is in the dark, gleams from the light will shoot in as if to allure him; and when he is in the light, vapours from the dark will roll in to perplex and tempt him.
II. Whenever faith and unbelief meet in an earnest heart there will be war. The question raised by faith and unbelief presses on the whole nature, and will not be silenced until settled one way or the other.
III. We can tell how the war will go by the side a mans heart takes. When a ship is making for the harbour, there is a set in the tide which may carry it straight for the entrance, or to the treacherous quicksands, or to the boiling surf. Such a set of the tide there is in a mans own heart. It is acted on by his will, therefore he is responsible for it. A man cannot use his will directly, so as to cause himself to believe or not to believe, but he can use it in those things which accompany salvation. We cannot reverse the tide, but we can employ the sails and helm, so as to act upon it. Let us seek to have
(1) a sense of reverence proportioned to the momentous character of the issue at stake. The weight of the soul must be felt if we are to decide rightly on its interests.
(2) A sense of need: a care for the soul, leading us to look out, and up, and cry for help.
(3) A sense of sinfulness, a conviction of the gulf between what we should be and what we are. The way to God begins in what is most profound in our own souls, and when we have been led by Gods own hand to make discoveries of our weakness and want and sin, it is not doubtful how the war will go.
IV. The way to be sure of the victory of faith is to call in Christs help. Full deliverance from doubt and sin is only to be procured by personal contact with the Saviours person and life. So long as we turn our back on Him, we are toward darkness; as soon as we look to Him, we are lightened. If there are any who have lost their faith, or fear they are losing it, while they deplore the loss, let them cry toward that quarter of the heavens where they once felt as if light were shining for them, and an answer will in due time come. Christ is there, whether they see Him or not; and He will hear their prayer, though it has a sore battle with doubt. This short prayer of a doubting heart comes far down like the Lord Jesus Himself, stretches out a hand of help to the feeblest, and secures at last an answer to all other prayers. H men will use it truly, it will give power to the faint, and to them that have no might it will increase strength, till it issues in the full confidence of perfect faith. (John Ker, D. D.)
This act of his, in putting forth his faith to believe as he could, was the way to believe as he would. (John Trapp.)
Faith and unbelief
Take these words as-
I. The voice of one seeking salvation. Give Christ your whole confidence. Dont lose time in excuses, or lamentations, or in seeking fuller conviction. Cast yourself at once on the Rock of Ages-Lord, I believe, But you say, I seem to slip off the Rock again. Well, that is surely a sign that you are on, if you are afraid of slipping off. Then add, Help Thou mine unbelief, i.e., Hold me on the Rock; do Thou keep me from rolling off. No man is quite a stranger to the Lord, or an utter unbeliever, who with tears entreats Christ to put away his unbelief.
II. The voice of the Christian in some anguish of spirit. In adversity, when your faith is slipping away, bow before Jesus, saying-Lord, I believe; I cling to Thee; I hang on Thee. Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him. What did I say? Who am I, to utter such mighty words of confidence? And yet, at such an hour, I take them not back; but with tears I haste to add, Lord, help Thou mine unbelief.
III. The words of the believer in view of duty, or of some holy privilege.
IV. The voice of the whole Church on earth, anxious for the salvation of her children. (D. Fraser, D. D.)
Mine unbelief
Unbelief is an alarming and criminal thing; for it doubts-
(1) The power of Omnipotence;
(2) the value of the promise of God;
(3) the efficacy of Christs blood;
(4) the prevalence of His plea;
(5) the almightiness of the Spirit;
(6) the truth of the gospel.
In fact, unbelief robs God of His glory in every way; and therefore it cannot receive a blessing from the Lord (Heb 11:6). (C. H. Spurgeon.)
The strife of faith and doubt in the soul
This was the cry of a soul in distress; it was a frank, honest exclamation, showing what was in the man; it was spoken to God. It was a cry of agony: the agony of hope, of love, of fear, all pouring out and upward, trembling and expecting: the cry of a solitary soul indeed, yet, substantially, a cry from all humanity summed up together. Nor did it meet rebuke; no fault was found with it; but in the granting of the prayer, assent and approval were implied; assent to the description, acceptance of the state of mind it disclosed.
I. Doubt and faith can co-exist in the heart and actually do. Natural to believe; we cannot but cling to God; cannot live without Him. Yet natural to doubt; because we are fallen; the mind is disordered, like the body: Divine truth is not yet made known to us in fulness. So it follows that the mere existence of doubts in intellect or heart is not sinful, nor need it disquiet the faithful. The sin begins where the responsibility begins, viz., in the exercise of the will.
II. The will has power to choose between the two. This is the sheet anchor of moral and intellectual life. No man need be passive, or is compelled to be all his life long subject to bondage under the spirit of doubt. The will can control and shape the thoughts, throwing its weight on one side or the other when the battle rages in the soul. Because it can do this, we are responsible for the strength or weakness of our faith.
III. If we choose to believe, God will help. Lift thy poor hand upward, and another Hand is coming through the darkness to meet it. (Morgan Dix, D. D.)
Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief
If a man can say this sincerely, he need never be discouraged; let him hope in the Lord. Little grace can trust in Christ, and great grace can do no more. God brings not a pair of scales to weigh our graces, and if they be too light refuseth them; but he brings a touchstone to try them: and if they be pure gold, though never so little of it, it will pass current with Him; though it be but smoke, not flame-though it be but as a wick in the socket-likelier to die and go out than continue, which we use to throw away; yet He will not quench it, but accept it. (Anon.)
We give a beggar an alms (says Manton), though he receives it with a trembling palsied hand; and if he lets it fall, we let him stoop for it. So doth the Lord give even to our weak faith, and in His great tenderness permits us afterward to enjoy what at first we could not grasp. The trembling hand is part of the poor beggars distress, and the weakness of our faith is a part of our spiritual poverty; therefore it moves the Divine compassion, and is an argument with heavenly pity. As a sin, unbelief grieves the Spirit; but, as a weakness, mourned and confessed, it secures His help. Lord, I believe, is a confession of faith which loses none of its acceptableness when it is followed by the prayer, help Thou mine unbelief. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Weakness of faith no sin
A friend complained to Gotthold of the weakness of his faith, and the distress this gave him. Gotthold pointed to a vine, which had twined itself round a pole, and was hanging loaded with beautiful clusters, and said, Frail is that plant; but what harm is done to it by its frailty, especially as the Creator has been pleased to make it what it is? As little will it prejudice your faith that it is weak, provided only it be sincere and unfeigned. Faith is the work of God, and He bestows it in such measure as He wills and judges right. Let the measure of it which He has given you be deemed sufficient by you. Take for pole and prop the cross of the Saviour and the Word of God; twine around these with all the power which God vouchsafes. A heart sensible of its weakness, and prostrating itself continually at the feet of the Divine mercy, is more acceptable than that which presumes upon the strength of its faith, and falls into false security and pride.
Weak faith may be effectual
The act of faith is to apply Christ to the soul; and this the weakest faith can do as well as the strongest, if it be true. A child can hold a staff as well, though not so strongly, as a man. The prisoner through a hole sees the sun, though not as perfectly as they in the open air. They that saw the brazen serpent, though a great way off, yet were healed. The poor mans I believe, saved him; though he was fain to add, Lord, help mine unbelief. So that we may say of faith, as the poet did of death, that it makes lords and slaves, apostles and common persons, all alike acceptable to God, if they have it. (T. Adams.)
Prayer is the cure for unbelief
One said to me, I have not the faculty of belief or faith in God, or in a book revelation. Answer: Have you prayed with your whole heart and strength-as for dear life-for light and faith? He said, I cannot; for a man who does that already half believes. Answer: No; for a man might be rescued from a shipwreck, and be watching the attempt to save that which was dearest to him-dearer than life-which had been swept from his side: putting aside conscious prayer, his whole being, his very heart and soul would go out into the wish and the hope that his treasure might be saved: yet it would not involve any belief that the rescue would be accomplished. Many a time an agony like that has been followed by the bringing in of the lifeless body. But after a true heart agony of prayer for light, no lifeless soul has ever been brought in. (Vita.)
Faith without comfort
The souls grasp of Jesus saves even when it does not comfort. If we touch the hem of His garment we are healed of our deadly disease, though our heart may still be full of trembling. We may be in consternation, but we cannot be under condemnation if we have believed in Jesus. Safety is one thing, and assurance of it is another. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Faith without assurance
As a man falling into a river espieth a bough of a tree, and catches at it with all his might, and as soon as he hath fast hold of it he is safe, though troubles and fears do not presently vanish out of his mind; so the soul, espying Christ as the only means to save him, and reaching out the hand to Him, is safe, though it be not presently quieted and pacified. (T. Manton.)
Faith only in God
He did not believe in the disciples; he had once trusted in them and failed. He did not believe in himself; he knew his own impotence to drive out the evil spirit from his child: He believed no longer in any medicines or men; but he believed the man of the shining countenance who had just come down from the mountain. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Faith under difficulty
Happy is the man who can not only believe when the waves softly ripple to the music of peace, but continues to trust in Him who is almighty to save when the hurricane is let loose in its fury, and the Atlantic breakers follow each other, eager to swallow up the barque of the mariner. Surely Christ Jesus is fit to be believed at all times, for like the pole star, He abides in His faithfulness, let storms rage as they may. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Faiths dawn and its clouds
I. There is true faith. It was faith in the Person of Christ. It was faith about the matter in hand. It was faith which triumphed over difficulties.
(a) Case of long standing.
(b) Considered to be hopeless.
(c) Disciples bad failed.
(d) The child was at that moment passing through a horrible stage of pain and misery.
II. There is grievous unbelief. Many true believers are tried with unbelief because they have a sense of their past sins. Some stagger through a consciousness of their present feebleness. Others are made to shiver with unbelief on account of fears for the future, The freeness and greatness of Gods mercy sometimes excites unbelief. A sacred desire to be right produces it in some. It may also arise through a most proper reverence for Christ, and a high esteem for all that belongs to Him.
III. The conflict between the two. He regards it as a sin and confesses it. He prays against it. He looks to the right Person for deliverance. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Feeble faith appealing to a strong Saviour
I. The suspected difficulty. The father may have thought it lay with the disciples. He probably thought the case itself was well-nigh hopeless. He half hinted that the difficulty might lie with the Master. If Thou.
II. The tearful discovery. Jesus cast the if back upon the father-then-
1. His little faith discovered his unbelief.
2. This unbelief alarmed him.
3. It was now, not help my child, but help my unbelief.
III. The intelligent appeal. He bases the appeal upon faith-I believe. He mingles with it confession-help my unbelief. He appeals to One who is able to help-Lord. To One Who is Himself the remedy for unbelief-Thou. (C. H. Spurgeon.)
Unbelief
Nothing is so provoking to God as unbelief, and yet there is nothing to which we are more prone. He has spoken to us in His Word; He has spoken plainly; He has repeated His promises again and again; He has confirmed them all by the blood of His own dear Son; and yet we do not believe Him. Is not this provoking? What would provoke a master like a servant refusing to believe him? Or, what would provoke a father like a child refusing to believe him? The man of honour feels himself insulted if his professed friend refuses to believe his solemn protestation; and yet this is the way in which we daily treat our God. He says: Confess, and I will pardon you. But we doubt it. He says: Call upon Me, and I will deliver you. But we doubt it. He says: I will supply all your needs. But we doubt it. He says: I will never leave thee nor forsake thee. But who has not questioned it? Let us seriously think of His own words: He that believeth not God hath made Him a liar; and His question, How long will this people provoke Me? Lord, forgive, and preserve us from it in future. (James Smith.)
Fuente: Biblical Illustrator Edited by Joseph S. Exell
Verse 24. Lord, I believe] The word Lord is omitted by ABCDL, both the Syriac, both the Arabic later Persic, AEthiopic, Gothic, and three copies of the Itala. Griesbach leaves it out. The omission, I think, is proper, because it is evident the man did not know our Lord, and therefore could not be expected to accost him with a title expressive of that authority which he doubted whether he possessed, unless we grant that he used the word after the Roman custom, for Sir.
Help thou mine unbelief.] That is, assist me against it. Give me a power to believe.
Fuente: Adam Clarke’s Commentary and Critical Notes on the Bible
24. And straightway the father ofthe child cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe: help thoumine unbeliefthat is, “It is useless concealing fromThee, O Thou mysterious, mighty Healer, the unbelief that stillstruggles in this heart of mine; but that heart bears me witness thatI do believe in Thee; and if distrust still remains, I disown it, Iwrestle with it, I seek help from Thee against it.” Two thingsare very remarkable here: First, The felt and owned presence ofunbelief, which only the strength of the man’s faith could haveso revealed to his own consciousness. Second, His appeal to Christfor help against his felt unbeliefa feature in the case quiteunparalleled, and showing, more than all protestations could havedone, the insight he had attained into the existence of a power inChrist more glorious them any he had besought for his poor child.The work was done; and as the commotion and confusion in the crowdwas now increasing, Jesus at once, as Lord of spirits, gives the wordof command to the dumb and deaf spirit to be gone, never again toreturn to his victim.
Fuente: Jamieson, Fausset and Brown’s Commentary Critical and Explanatory on the Whole Bible
And straightway the father of the child cried out,…. As soon as ever he found it was put upon his faith, and that the issue of things would be according to that, he expressed himself with much vehemency, being in great distress; partly with indignation at his unbelief, and partly through fear of missing a cure, by reason of it:
and said with tears; repenting of his unbelief, and grieved at the present weakness of his faith; which he very ingenuously confesses, saying,
Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief; not forward, but out of the way: he found in himself some small degree of faith in the power of Christ, but it was mixed with much unbelief, through the greatness of the child’s disorder; and therefore desires it might be removed from him, and he might be helped against it: he saw it was not in his own power to believe; nor had he strength of himself to oppose his unbelief; but that both faith must be given him, and power against unbelief. The Syriac version renders it, “help”,
, “the defect of my faith”: till up that which is lacking in it, it is very deficient, Lord, increase it; and the Arabic and Ethiopic translate thus, “help the weakness of my faith”. He found his faith very weak, he desires it might be strengthened, that he might be strong in faith, and give glory to God; and in this way belief is helped, or men helped against it: every believer, more or less, at one time or another, finds himself in this man’s case; and also that it is necessary to make use of the same petition; for faith is but imperfect in this life, and often very weak and defective in its exercise.
Fuente: John Gill’s Exposition of the Entire Bible
Cried out (). Loud outcry and at once (). The later manuscripts have “with tears” ( ), not in the older documents.
I believe; help my unbelief (: ). An exact description of his mental and spiritual state. He still had faith, but craved more. Note present imperative here (continuous help) , while aorist imperative (instant help) , verse 22. The word comes from , a cry and , to run, to run at a cry for help, a vivid picture of this father’s plight.
Fuente: Robertson’s Word Pictures in the New Testament
Cried out and said [] . The former denoting the inarticulate cry, the ejaculation, followed by the words, “Lord, I believe,” etc.
Fuente: Vincent’s Word Studies in the New Testament
1)“And straightway the father of the child cried out,” (euthus kraksas ho pater tou padiou) “Instantly the father of the child cried aloud,” believing that belief was needful, Joh 8:24.
2) “And said with tears,” (elegen) “And said,” saying, with (Gk. Kraksas) a cry accompanied by tears of earnestness, tears of care, and tears of faith.
3) “Lord, I believe.” (pisteuo) “I believe,” or I trust, to you my need, as a patient trusts a doctor, as a passenger trusts a pilot, as a depositor trusts a bank, Eph 2:8; Joh 6:44; Rom 10:9-13.
4) “Help thou mine unbelief.” (boethei mou te apistia) “Help thou my unbelief,” my unfaithful state, or my belief that needs strengthening; take away my doubts, my unbelief, by healing my son. In this cry the father showed his love for his son, even as God’s cry to the church to carry the Gospel affirms His love for them, Mat 18:18-20; 2Pe 3:9; Joh 3:16.
Fuente: Garner-Howes Baptist Commentary
24. Lord, I believe. He declares that he believes, and yet acknowledges himself to have unbelief These two statements may appear to contradict each other, but there is none of us that does not experience both of them in himself. As our faith is never perfect, it follows that we are partly unbelievers; but God forgives us, and exercises such forbearance towards us, as to reckon us believers on account of a small portion of faith. It is our duty, in the meantime, carefully to shake off the remains of infidelity which adhere to us, to strive against them, and to pray to God to correct them, and, as often as we are engaged in this conflict, to fly to him for aid. If we duly inquire what portion has been bestowed on each, it will evidently appear that there are very few who are eminent in faith, few who have a moderate portion, and very many who have but a small measure.
Fuente: Calvin’s Complete Commentary
(24) And straightway the father of the child . . .The whole verse is peculiar to St. Mark. The better MSS. omit with tears. The answer of the father shows that the conflict between faith and unfaith was still continuing; but the relative position of the two had altered for the better, and the former was beginning to prevail.
Fuente: Ellicott’s Commentary for English Readers (Old and New Testaments)
24. Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief Surely, the Spirit of God must have prompted words so wise and so suited to his case. I believe with all the strength I have; give me more strength that my faith may be more complete. And his faith was thus strong as could be required, and strong enough to empower Jesus to grant him the fulness of the blessing.
Fuente: Whedon’s Commentary on the Old and New Testaments
‘Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, “I believe. You help my unbelief.”
The man’s response was immediate and significant. He recognised that he was dependent on Jesus. And he accepted that his own faith was weak. But he was desperate. And he was beginning to believe that Jesus could do something. His statement was a paradox and yet true in the experience of us all. He had a weak, wavering faith that was reaching out and yet was aware of how much it was lacking. He knew that it needed strength from the Master for his faith to blossom. So he put the onus on the One Who never fails to ensure that the faith of those who trust in Him is sufficient. (‘Look,’ Mark is saying, ‘here is One Who can actually ensure faith in men’).
Fuente: Commentary Series on the Bible by Peter Pett
24 And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.
Ver. 24. I believe ] This act of his in putting forth his faith to believe as he could, was the way to believe as he would.
Help thou mine unbelief ] That is, my weak faith, which he counteth no better than unbelief; howbeit, God counts the preparation of the heart to believe, faith, as in those Samaritans, Joh 4:39-42 . Dr Cruger cried out on his death bed, Credo languida fide, sed tamen fide. Much faith will yield unto us here our heaven; and any faith, if true, will yield us heaven hereafter. Selnever Paedagog.
Fuente: John Trapp’s Complete Commentary (Old and New Testaments)
24. ] Nothing can be more touching and living than this whole most masterly and wonderful narrative. The poor father is drawn out into a sense of the unworthiness of his distrust, and “the little spark of faith which is kindled in his soul reveals to him the abysmal deeps of unbelief which are there.” (Trench, p. 367.) “Thus,” remarks Olshausen (B. Comm. i. 534), “does the Redeemer shew himself to the father as a first, before He heals his son. In the struggle of his anxiety, the strength of Faith is born , by the aid of Christ, in the soul empty of it before.”
There is strong analogy in the Lord’s treatment of the father here, for the sponsorial engagement in infant baptism. The child is by its infirmity incapacitated ; it is therefore the father’s faith which is tested, and when that is proved, the child is healed. The fact is, that the analogy rests far deeper: viz. on the ‘inclusion’ of ‘the old man’ in Adam and the ‘new man’ in Christ: see Rom 5:12-21 . It may be well to remind the reader that there is nothing “more pathetic and expressive” (Wordsw.) in than in . . : see on Mat 16:18 .
Fuente: Henry Alford’s Greek Testament
Mar 9:24 . : eager, fear-stricken cry; making the most of his little faith, to ensure the benefit, and adding a prayer for increase of faith ( , etc.) with the idea that it would help to make the cure complete. The father’s love at least was above suspicion. Meyer and Weiss render “help me even if unbelieving,” arguing that the other, more common rendering is at variance with the meaning of in Mar 9:22 .
Fuente: The Expositors Greek Testament by Robertson
Mark
UNBELIEVING BELIEF
Mar 9:24
We owe to Mark’s Gospel the fullest account of the pathetic incident of the healing of the demoniac boy. He alone gives us this part of the conversation between our Lord and the afflicted child’s father. The poor man had brought his child to the disciples, and found them unable to do anything with him. A torrent of appeal breaks from his lips as soon as the Lord gives him an opportunity of speaking. He dwells upon all the piteous details with that fondness for repetition which sorrow knows so well. Jesus gives him back his doubts. The father said, ‘If thou canst do anything, have compassion on us and help us.’ Christ’s answer, according to the true reading, is not as it stands in our Authorised Version, ‘If thou canst believe’-throwing, as it were, the responsibility on the man-but it is a quotation of the father’s own word, ‘If Thou canst ,’ as if He waved it aside with superb recognition of its utter unfitness to the present case. ‘Say not, If Thou canst. That is certain. All things are possible to thee’ not to do , but to get ‘if’-which is the only ‘if’ in the case-’thou believest. I can, and if thy faith lays hold on My Omnipotence, all is done.’
That majestic word is like the blow of steel upon flint; it strikes a little spark of faith which lights up the soul and turns the smoky pillar of doubt into clear flame of confidence. ‘Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief.’
I think in these wonderful words we have four things-the birth, the infancy, the cry, and the education, of faith. And to these four I turn now.
I. First, then, note here the birth of faith.
This man knew what he wanted, and he wanted it very sorely. Whosoever has any intensity and reality of desire for the great gifts which Jesus Christ comes to bestow, has taken at least one step on the way to faith. Conversely, the hindrances which block the path of a great many of us are simply that we do not care to possess the blessings which Jesus Christ in His Gospel offers. I am not talking now about the so-called intellectual hindrances to belief, though I think that a great many of these, if carefully examined, would be found, in the ultimate analysis, to repose upon this same stolid indifference to the blessings which Christianity offers. But what I wish to insist upon is that for large numbers of us, and no doubt for many men and women whom I address now, the real reason why they have not trust in Jesus Christ is because they do not care to possess the blessings which Jesus Christ brings. Do you desire to have your sins forgiven? Has purity any attraction for you? Do you care at all about the calm and pure blessings of communion with God? Would you like to live always in the light of His face? Do you want to be the masters of your own lusts and passions? I do not ask you, Do you want to go to Heaven or to escape Hell, when you die? but I ask, Has that future in any of its aspects any such power over you as that it stirs you to any earnestness and persistency of desire, or is it all shadowy and vain, ineffectual and dim? What we Christian teachers have to fight against is that we are charged to offer to men a blessing that they do not want, and have to create a demand before there can be any acceptance of the supply. ‘Give us the leeks and garlics of Egypt,’ said the Hebrews in the wilderness; ‘our soul loatheth this light bread.’ So it is with many of us; we do not want God, goodness, quietness of conscience, purity of life, self-consecration to a lofty ideal, one-thousandth part as much as we want success in our daily occupations, or some one or other of the delights that the world gives. I remember Luther, in his rough way, has a story-I think it is in his Table-talk -about a herd of swine to whom their keeper offered some rich dainties, and the pigs said, ‘Give us grains.’ That is what so many men do when Jesus Christ comes with His gifts and His blessings. They turn away, but if they were offered some poor earthly good, all their desires would go out towards it, and their eager hands would be scrambling who should first possess it.
Oh brethren, if we saw things as they are, and our needs as they are, nothing would kindle such intensity of longing in our hearts as that rejected or neglected promise of life eternal and divine which Jesus Christ brings. If I could only once wake in some indifferent heart this longing, that heart would have taken at least the initial step to a life of Christian godliness.
Further, we have here the other element of a sense of utter helplessness. How often this poor father had looked at his boy in the grip of the fiend, and had wrung his hands in despair that he could not do anything for him! That same sense of absolute impotence is one which we all, if we rightly understand what we need, must cherish. Can you forgive your own sins? Can you cleanse your own nature? Can you make yourselves other than you are by any effort of volition, or by any painfulness of discipline? To a certain small extent you can. In regard to superficial culture and eradication, your careful husbandry of your own wills may do much, but you cannot deal with your deepest needs. If we understand what is required, in order to bring one soul into harmony and fellowship with God, we shall recognise that we ourselves can do nothing to save, and little to help ourselves. ‘Every man his own redeemer,’ which is the motto of some people nowadays, may do very well for fine weather and for superficial experience, but when the storm comes it proves a poor refuge, like the gay pavilions that they put up for festivals, which are all right whilst the sun is shining and the flags are fluttering, but are wretched shelters when the rain beats and the wind howls. We can do nothing for ourselves. The recognition of our own helplessness is the obverse, so to speak, and underside, of confidence in the divine help. The coin, as it were, has its two faces. On the one is written, ‘Trust in the Lord’; on the other is written, ‘Nothing in myself.’ A drowning man, if he tries to help himself, only encumbers his would-be rescuer, and may drown him too. The truest help he can give is to let the strong arm that has cleft the waters for his sake fling itself around him and bear him safe to land. So, eager desire after offered blessings and consciousness of my own impotence to secure them-these are the initial steps of faith.
And the last of the elements here is, listening to the calm assurance of Jesus Christ: ‘If Thou canst! Do not say that to Me; I can, and because I can, all things are possible for thee to receive.’ In like manner He stands at the door of each of our hearts and speaks to each of our needs, and says: ‘I can satisfy it. Rest for thy soul, cleansing for thy sins, satisfaction for thy desires, guidance for thy pilgrimage, power for thy duties, patience in thy sufferings-all these will come to thee, if thou layest hold of My hand.’ His assurance helps trembling confidence to be born, and out of doubt the great calm word of the Master smites the fire of trust. And we, dear brethren, if we will listen to Him, shall surely find in Him all that we need. Think how marvellous it is that this Jewish peasant should plant Himself in the front of humanity, over against the burdened, sinful race of men, and pledge Himself to forgive and to cleanse their sins, to bear all their sicknesses, to be their strength in weakness, their comfort in sorrow, the rest of their hearts, their heaven upon earth, their life in death, their glory in heaven, and their all in all; and not only should pledge Himself, but in the blessed experience of millions should have more than fulfilled all that He promised. ‘They trusted in Him, and were lightened, and their faces were not ashamed.’ Will you not answer His sovereign word of promise with your ‘Lord, I believe’?
II. Then, secondly, we have here the infancy of faith.
Thus, then, in its infancy, faith may and does coexist with much unfaith and doubt. The same state of mind, looked at from its two opposite ends, as it were, may be designated faith or unbelief; just as a piece of shot silk, according to the angle at which you hold it, may show you only the bright colours of its warp or the dark ones of its weft. When you are travelling in a railway train with the sun streaming in at the windows, if you look out on the one hand you will see the illumined face of every tree and blade of grass and house; and if you look out on the other, you will see their shadowed side. And so the same landscape may seem to be all lit up by the sunshine of belief, or to be darkened by the gloom of distrust. If we consider how great and how perfect ought to be our confidence, to bear any due proportion to the firmness of that upon which it is built, we shall not be slow to believe that through life there will always be the presence in us, more or less, of these two elements. There will be all degrees of progress between the two extremes of infantile and mature faith.
There follows from that thought this practical lesson, that the discovery of much unbelief should never make a man doubt the reality or genuineness of his little faith. We are all apt to write needlessly bitter things against ourselves when we get a glimpse of the incompleteness of our Christian life and character. But there is no reason why a man should fancy that he is a hypocrite because he finds out that he is not a perfect believer. But, on the other hand, let us remember that the main thing is not the maturity, but the progressive character, of faith. It was most natural that this man in our text, at the very first moment when he began to put his confidence in Jesus Christ as able to heal his child, should be aware of much tremulousness mingling with it. But is it not most unnatural that there should be the same relative proportion of faith and unbelief in the heart and experience of men who have long professed to be Christians? You do not expect the infant to have adult limbs, but you do expect it to grow. True, faith at its beginning may be like a grain of mustard seed, but if the grain of mustard seed be alive it will grow to a great tree, where all the fowls of the air can lodge in the branches. Oh! it is a crying shame and sin that in all Christian communities there should be so many grey-headed babies, men who have for years and years been professing to be Christ’s followers, and whose faith is but little, if at all, stronger-nay! perhaps is even obviously weaker-than it was in the first days of their profession. ‘Ye have need of milk, and not of strong meat,’ very many of you. And the vitality of your faith is made suspicious, not because it is feeble, but because it is not growing stronger.
III. Notice the cry of infant faith.
The lesson is that, even when we are conscious of much tremulousness in our faith, we have a right to ask and expect that it shall be answered. Weak faith is faith. The tremulous hand does touch. The cord may be slender as a spider’s web that binds a heart to Jesus, but it does bind. The poor woman in the other miracle who put out her wasted finger-tip, coming behind Him in the crowd, and stealthily touching the hem of His garment, though it was only the end of her finger-nail that was laid on the robe, carried away with her the blessing. And so the feeblest faith joins the soul, in the measure of its strength, to Jesus Christ.
But let us remember that, whilst thus the cry of infant faith is heard, the stronger voice of stronger faith is more abundantly heard. Jesus Christ once for all laid down the law when He said to one of the suppliants at His feet, ‘According to your faith be it unto you.’ The measure of our belief is the measure of our blessing. The wider you open the door, the more angels will crowd into it, with their white wings and their calm faces. The bore of the pipe determines the amount of water that flows into the cistern. Every man gets, in the measure in which he desires. Though a tremulous hand may hold out a cup into which Jesus Christ will not refuse to pour the wine of the kingdom, yet the tremulous hand will spill much of the blessing; and he that would have the full enjoyment of the mercies promised, and possible, must ‘ask in faith, nothing wavering.’ The sensitive paper which records the hours of sunshine in a day has great gaps upon its line of light answering to the times when clouds have obscured the sun; and the communication of blessings from God is intermittent, if there be intermittency of faith. If you desire an unbroken line of mercy, joy, and peace, keep up an unbroken continuity of trustful confidence.
IV. Lastly, we have here the education of faith.
Thus He educates us by His answers-His over-answers-to our poor desires; and the abundance of His gifts rebukes the poverty of our petitions more emphatically than any words of remonstrance beforehand could have done. He does not lecture us into faith, but He blesses us into it. When the Apostle was sinking in the flood, Jesus Christ said no word of reproach until He had grasped him with His strong hand and held him safe. And then, when the sustaining touch thrilled through all the frame, then, and not till then, He said-as we may fancy, with a smile on His face that the moonlight showed-as knowing how unanswerable His question was, ‘O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?’ That is how He will deal with us if we will; over-answering our tremulous petitions, and so teaching us to hope more abundantly that ‘we shall praise Him more and more.’
The disappointments, the weaknesses, the shameful defeats which come when our confidence fails, are another page of His lesson-book. The same Apostle of whom I have been speaking got that lesson when, standing on the billows, and, instead of looking at Christ, looking at their wrath and foam, his heart failed him, and because his heart failed him he began to sink. If we turn away from Jesus Christ, and interrupt the continuity of our faith by calculating the height of the breakers and the weight of the water that is in them, and what will become of us when they topple over with their white crests upon our heads, then gravity will begin to work, and we shall begin to sink. And well for us if, when we have sunk as far as our knees, we look back again to the Master and say, ‘Lord, save me; I perish!’ The weakness which is our own when faith sleeps, and the rejoicing power which is ours because it is His, when faith wakes, are God’s education of it to fuller and ampler degrees and depth. We shall lose the meaning of life, and the best lesson that joy and sorrow, calm and storm, victory and defeat, can give us, unless all these make us ‘rooted and grounded in faith.’
Dear friend, do you desire your truest good? Do you know that you cannot win it, or fight for it to gain it, or do anything to obtain it, in your own strength? Have you heard Jesus Christ saying to you, ‘Come . . . and I will give you rest’? Oh! I beseech you, do not turn away from Him, but like this agonised father in our story, fall at His feet with ‘Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief,’ and He will confirm your feeble faith by His rich response.
Fuente: Expositions Of Holy Scripture by Alexander MacLaren
the child. Greek. paidion. App-108.
cried out. Inarticulate.
and said = began to say. Articulate.
Lord. App-98. B. a.
Fuente: Companion Bible Notes, Appendices and Graphics
24.] Nothing can be more touching and living than this whole most masterly and wonderful narrative. The poor father is drawn out into a sense of the unworthiness of his distrust, and the little spark of faith which is kindled in his soul reveals to him the abysmal deeps of unbelief which are there. (Trench, p. 367.) Thus, remarks Olshausen (B. Comm. i. 534), does the Redeemer shew himself to the father as a first, before He heals his son. In the struggle of his anxiety, the strength of Faith is born, by the aid of Christ, in the soul empty of it before.
There is strong analogy in the Lords treatment of the father here, for the sponsorial engagement in infant baptism. The child is by its infirmity incapacitated; it is therefore the fathers faith which is tested, and when that is proved, the child is healed. The fact is, that the analogy rests far deeper: viz. on the inclusion of the old man in Adam and the new man in Christ: see Rom 5:12-21. It may be well to remind the reader that there is nothing more pathetic and expressive (Wordsw.) in than in . . : see on Mat 16:18.
Fuente: The Greek Testament
Mar 9:24. , help Thou mine unbelief) by removing mine unbelief or else by healing my son, even though I have not sufficient faith. Comp. the help, , Mar 9:22.
Fuente: Gnomon of the New Testament
Faith and Doubt
Straightway the father of the child cried out, and said, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.Mar 9:24.
The text is a part of St. Marks reference to the great problem which confronted our Lord when He came down from the Mount of Transfiguration. There are many aspects of the scene which call for interest and sympathy; the blight and bitterness of a fathers heart over the limitations of human love; the epilepsy of a son; the paroxysms of this awful malady in the presence of them all; and the mental unbalancing which was worse than death.
We owe to this Gospel the fullest account of this pathetic incident. St. Mark alone gives us this part of the conversation between our Lord and the afflicted childs father. The poor man had brought his boy to the disciples, and found them unable to do anything with him. Now a torrent of appeal breaks from his lips as soon as the Lord gives him an opportunity of speaking. He dwells upon all the piteous details, with that fondness for repetition which sorrow knows so well.
In the background of the story is the Mount and the glory of the Transfiguration. It is true that the mist is on the river, and the sun is on the hill; but the sun shines into the valley, and the mist goes. The Master comes down from the Mount, and the child is healed. Is it not the message of the Incarnation? Sin and sorrow are at the foot of the Mount; but though the light be in heaven, the Christ shall be born in Bethlehem. The glory of heaven must cast its light on the earth. As we come to the study of a passage such as this, we learn that darkness is not to shut out the light, but light is to banish darkness. The end is to be not eternal night, but eternal light. Grace is to master sin, and our imperfect life is to know the joy of eternal perfection.
Hours there will come of soulless night,
When all thats holy, all thats bright,
Seems gone for aye:
When truth and love, and hope and peace,
All vanish into nothingness,
And fade away.
Fear not the cloud that veils the skies,
Tis out of darkness light must rise,
As eer of old:
The true, the good, the fair endure,
And thou, with eyes less dim, more pure,
Shalt them behold.1 [Note: Frederick M. White.]
The subject may be considered under two aspects
I.The Suppliants Attitude towards Christ
II.Christs Attitude towards the Suppliant
I
The Suppliants Attitude towards Christ
i. His Distress
The case has been in the hands of the disciples, but they have failed to do anything effective, and so the hope that mercifully turns men from one failure to a new test, brings this woe to the Master Himself, if perchance He can do anything. We cannot tell how much hope this father had. Hope is hard to kill, but years of sorrow and disappointment are full of wear and tear, so far as the element of expectation is concerned, and though the expectation of hope may grow less and less, the longing of hope, which bids recourse to new expedients, always lingers where love is. There does not seem to be a great deal of expectancy on his part, but he is full of yearning for the recovery of his son. He is sure that he wants the Christ to try to help his boy and him. If thou canst do anything, have compassion on us, and help us.
1. One thing is certain: the man knew what he wanted. And he wanted it very sorely. He felt his sense of utter helplessness. How often this poor father had looked at his boy in the grip of the fiend, and had wrung his hands in despair that he could do nothing for him. It was this sense of absolute impotence that urged him to seek Divine help. If only he could believe in the omnipotence of Jesus. How those words must have sounded in his ear, giving birth to the faith which was trembling in his heart. If thou canst! Do not say that to Me. I can. And because I can, all things are possible for thee to receive. As soon as the consciousness of belief dawned upon the father, and the effort to exercise it was put forth, there sprang up the consciousness of its own imperfection. He would never have known that he did not believe unless he had tried to believe. I believe; help thou mine unbelief. The mans desire for the moment was not so much that his faith might be increased, as that his unbelief, which he recognises as the barrier to the healing of his child, might be removed. His words mean ratherHelp my child, though it is unbelief as much as faith that asks Thee to do it. It is the intense longing of a fathers love that breaks forth in his distracted cry.
Sweet cares for love or friend
Which ever heavenward tend,
Too deep and true and tender to have on earth their end.
These in the soul do breed
Thoughts which, at last, shall lead
To some clear, firm assurance of a satisfying creed.1 [Note: Lewis Morris, Poems (The Muses Library), 114.]
2. If our faith is dim and variable, so was that of those who walked with Christ when He was on earth. O ye of little faith, O faithless generation, If ye had faith as a grain of mustard seed, said our Lord. But to whom? To the self-complacent Scribes and Pharisees? To the thoughtless, ignorant crowd? No; He thus spoke to His disciples. His nearest of kin believed not on him. The apostles as yet believed not the Scriptures. It was not only the two on the road to Emmaus who were slow to believe. We will hope, then, though our faith be almost nothing, that the light will grow. The perfect clay will not be here, but it will lie hereafter.
For deep in many a brave, though bleeding heart,
There lurks a yearning for the Healers face
A yearning to be free from hint and guess,
To take the blessings Christ is fain to give:
To all who dare not with their conscience strive,
To all who burn for this most dear success,
Faith shall be born!
3. Many are the times in our own lives, in the lives of our friends, when we cannot tell scoffers or even ourselves where God is. Perhaps it is bodily pain or moral guilt that clouds our vision; or the sin and suffering everywhere visible ask us, Where is now thy God? At such times we make a great mistake if we look for comfort in ourselves; for this is just the quarter whence the mists and clouds spring which hide God from us. Nor should we too much blame ourselves, as if mourning after an absent God always indicated want of love in us; for a man may think more of God and be more anxious to serve Him while doubting His existence, and in the anguish of his soul crying for light, than while resting comfortably in a taken-for-granted creed and coldly serving Him. We know that even to Him whose meat it was to do Gods will, and who loved His father as only He could, there came in His dying agony a moment of mysterious forsakennessMy God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?
A conscientious, intelligent woman, who had been in deep distress for many weeks, at last said to the clergyman who visited her, Peace with God I know nothing about, but I have done quarrelling with Him. I have resolved to submit to God and serve Him, and do all the good I can while I live, and then go to hell as I deserve. The clergyman smiled and quietly remarked, You will find it hard to go to hell in that way. The poor woman soon found that her willing submission to God brought her lasting peace. She had found the true religion, which is to know Christs will and to do it without stopping to bargain for the ready pay of joy and happiness.1 [Note: E. J. Hardy.]
ii. His Faith
I believe.
1. In this particular instance, as in all instances, a mans belief is of vastly greater significance than his unbelief; and, besides that, it is only by ones distinct possession of belief that one is ever able to get the better of unbelief. So that clearly it is the first of the two clauses rather than the second that makes prior claim to our thought and interest. It is to the moral and intellectual credit of the man in question that he was thoughtful enough to be able to state his case in a manner at once so simple and thorough.
One of the outstanding characteristics of the present age is the extent to which believers doubt, and doubters believe. This strange blending of earnest faith and honest doubt is a great puzzle to some thinkers, and a source of painful anxiety to others. To those who love truth above everything, and believe in its final victory, it is a welcome sign of the times, inasmuch as it proves that men think on these problems; and the Christian faith is never in danger when men exercise their mind upon it. Such men will often find themselves among shadows, and some of their discoveries during the progress of their research will startle and even frighten them; but if they think on, and continue the quest, every step they advance will bring them nearer the clarified and revealing light which surrounds the Person and the presence of the Christ, and farther from the shadows where He is only dimly known.1 [Note: H. E. Thomas.] We should not deprecate thoughtful doubt; we should say with Browning:
Rather I prize the doubt
Low kinds exist without,
Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark.
2. What is Faith in its essencethis mysterious power which brought the man an answer to his prayer? Faith in its essence is the power by which we grasp the future, the unseen, the infinite, the eternal; and in its application it is a principle of knowledge, a principle of power, a principle of action. (1) It is a principle of knowledge. Revelation tells us what we can know of the invisible and eternal world, and faith makes the message her own. In this sense it is most true that we believe in order that we may know. (2) It is a principle of power. For faith not only apprehends the unseen, but enters into vital union with it, and so wields, according to its strength, the powers of the world to come. (3) It is a principle of action. Our temptation at present is to acquiesce in worldly motives for right-doing: to stop short of the clear confession, to ourselves and to others, that as citizens and workers we take our share in public business, we labour to fulfil our appointed task, because the love of Christ constraineth us. And yet no other motive has that permanence, that energy, that universality, which can support our efforts through failure, or make them independent of praise, or bring them into harmony with the countless activities of life.1 [Note: B. F. Westcott.]
3. The weakness of new-born faith calls for the compassion of all who love the souls of men. In addition to their own weakness they are liable to special dangers, for at such times Satan is frequently very active. No king will willingly lose his subjects, and the Prince of Darkness labours to bring back those who have just escaped over the confines of his dominion. If souls are never tried afterwards, they are pretty sure to be assailed on their outset from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City. Bunyan very wisely placed the Slough of Despond at the very commencement of the spiritual journey. The cowardly fiend of hell assails the weak, because he would put an end to them before they get strong enough to do mischief to his kingdom. Like Pharaoh, he would destroy the little ones. He seeks, if possible, to beat out of them every hope, so that their trembling faith may utterly perish.
4. Let us remember that, whilst the cry of infant faith is heard, the stronger voice of stronger faith is more abundantly heard. Jesus Christ once for all laid down the law when He said to one of the suppliants at His feet, According to your faith be it unto you. The measure of our belief is the measure of our blessing. The wider you open the door, the more angels will crowd into it, with their white wings and their calm faces. The bore of the pipe determines the amount of water that flows into the cistern. Every man gets, in the measure in which he desires. Though a tremulous hand may hold out a cup into which Jesus Christ will not refuse to pour the wine of the Kingdom, yet the tremulous hand will spill much of the blessing; and he that would have the full enjoyment of the mercies promised, and possible, must ask in faith, nothing wavering. The sensitive paper, which records the hours of sunshine in a day, has great gaps upon its line of light answering to the times when clouds have obscured the sun; and the communication of blessings from God is intermittent, if there be intermittency of faith. If you desire an unbroken line of mercy, joy, and peace, keep up an unbroken continuity of trustful confidence.
iii. His Doubt
Help thou mine unbelief.
We have considered the mans faith. And now, when we come to consider his doubt, we find that it is not so desperate. At any rate, whatever it was, he took the right way with it.
1. He made a frank confession of it.Doubts which loom large in the dark, sometimes assume far less alarming proportions when brought to the light. Faltering faith is better confessed than concealed.
A great-minded and tender-hearted bishop, whose name is cherished by us all, said to a mother who was much distressed by the disposition of her son, a college student, to talk sceptically, Let him ventilate his notions. Let him air his views. He is trying to find out what he believes, and he will not find out until he exposes his ideas to the full light of day. Another, equally wise, said in a similar instance: It is a plain case of intellectual measles. This kind of scepticism is the rash. It is best to let it come out. Dont drive it in.1 [Note: C. C. Albertson.]
2. He went straight to the Master with his confession.How many knots would be untangled, how many vexed and vexing problems would be solved, by going to the very central source of authority! The rest that our Saviour promises to the labouring and heavy-laden is rest from perturbing thoughts, rest from tormenting uncertainties, rest from harassing doubts, as well as rest from weariness, and weakness, and wickedness. Faltering faith, in the case of this doubter, not only honours itself by candid confession, but points out the way of peace by the very nature of its expression. The confession is a prayer. The doubter who makes the confession of his doubts an advertisement, a mere cheap appeal to publicity, alienates himself, by that very act, from the spirit of the truth-seeker. It is as indelicate to expose ones doubts in the market-place as to display ones sorrows to the gaze of passers-by. Here is the golden rule for all such souls as this father, this half-believer: Tell your doubts to God; publish your faith to your fellow-man. There is no place where doubt so quickly vanishes, where weak faith so certainly grows strong, where lame faith leaps, and blind faith sees, as at the Masters feet, the throne of Grace. There is wisdom in the prayer, Help thou mine unbelief.
We do not say there are no others to help our unbelief. There are books and teachers and pastors and friends who help our unbelief. A Cambridge professor once declared that no student of his ever left the university without being permanently influenced by the study of Butlers Analogy. Walkers Philosophy of the Plan of Salvation has been useful in dissipating doubt and stimulating faith in many a students life. When Phillips Brooks died, a great company of men rose up to call him blessed, to testify that when, in crises of their lives, they went to him, they found light and leading. If anywhere within your reach there is a man of firm faith, a man like Tennysons friend who fought his doubts and gathered strength, one who has faced the spectres of the mind and laid them, one whose faith is refreshing and contagious, and who knows how to prove that the soul has reasons that Reason cannot know, go to that friend, that teacher, and say, Help thou mine unbelief. Not to the doubter, to compare your doubts or to confirm them, lest you be like a sick man who seeks advice of fellow-patients in a hospital, but to the believer who has a well-reasoned creed and the capacity to vindicate it, to him go with the request, Help thou mine unbelief. But the skill of all such men is feeble compared with His to whom, at this or any moment, we may appeal with the absolute certainty that He will speak to us the one word we most need to hear.
O Thou! unseen by me, that like a child
Tries in the night to find its mothers heart,
And weeping, wanders only more apart,
Not knowing in the darkness that she smiled
Thou, all unseen, dost hear my tired cry,
As I, in darkness of a half belief,
Grope for Thy heart, in love and doubt and grief:
O Lord! speak soon to meLo, here am I!1 [Note: Margaret Deland.]
3. He kept his mind in vital touch with the little that he was already assured of.All wholesome faith, whether religious or otherwise, is a growth, a process of vital expansion from below upward, and the maintenance of that growth is made possible only by a careful observance of the laws of growth. If you have a bud on your rose-bush that you want to blossom, the last device you would think of resorting to would be to detach the bud from the stalk and to toss it into the air. And yet that is precisely what hosts of young men and young women are doing who are not merely questioning,which is perfectly proper,but are nipping the fibre of connection that would unite what they do doubt with what they do not doubt; and so of course their doubts never become faith, cannot become faith. Buds of doubt do not blossom and become conviction when separated from the live stalk of assurance, any more than rosebuds become rose blossoms when cut from the living stalk of the bush. It makes very little difference how small a mans conviction is if only it is conviction, and if only he will stand to it and be true to it in his thought and in his life, and make that conviction the basis of his thinking, the support of his inquiring, and the law of his conduct.
The heathen philosopher, Plato, said, My son, many have ere now doubted of the existence of the gods, but no man ever passed from youth to age without at some time or other believing.2 [Note: B. Jowett.]
When Horace Bushnell was in college he lost his belief in God as God is usually understood. All that remained to him from his previous conviction was a belief in the abstract principle of right. That was not much of a God, but it was something, and that something he held to. Instead of entangling himself in the intricacies of the darkened realm of mystery in which he could so easily have become enslaved and submerged, and thus letting his splendid career of Christian faith and service be sacrificed, he simply held his ground inside the very small area of assurance remaining to him. Instead of dissipating his religious energies by roaming aimlessly in a world where nothing offered to him a basis of firm support, he kept simply and unswervingly to his confidence in the abstract principle of right, and not simply kept to it, but knelt down and prayed to it. A dreary prayer, he said it was, but it was a prayer; it was the best he could do, and it was honest, and, as he afterwards told the students at Yale, the God that he had lost came back to him in his act of trying faithfully and sincerely to worship the small fraction of God that had survived to him.1 [Note: C. H. Parkhurst.]
Constrained at the darkest hour to confess humbly that without Gods help I was helpless, I vowed a vow in the forest solitude that I would confess His aid before men. A silence as of death was round about me; it was midnight; I was weakened by illness, prostrated with fatigue, and worn with anxiety for my white and black companions, whose fate was a mystery. In this physical and mental distress I besought God to give me back my people. Nine hours later we were exulting with rapturous joy. In full view of all was the crimson flag with the crescent, and beneath its waving folds was the long-lost rear column.2 [Note: H. M. Stanley, In Darkest Africa, i. 2.]
iv. His Prayer
I believe; help thou mine unbelief.
1. When we take the prayer in its entirety, it may seem to us a brief and imperfect confession, and a prayer which it were needless for us to use. Certainly the words recorded by St. Mark were the expression of a weak, rudimentary faith: a confession due to interested motives, followed by the petition of one struggling to attain just such a measure of belief as was the necessary condition of his request being granted. Only he who really believes, it has been said, guesses aught of the unbelief of his heart. He is no true believer who is not keenly alive to the weakness and unworthiness of his faith. No one who has any true faith can fail to realise how this continually requires enlarging and strengthening. We can never dispense with the prayer, Help thou mine unbelief, until this life is ended, and faith is exchanged for the open vision of those who know even as they are known. The disciples themselves were rebuked on this very occasion for their unbelief. Later in the ministry they were constrained to address to their Master the petition, Lord, add to our faith.3 [Note: T. H. Stokoe.]
What God requires and looks at, says Bishop Hall, is neither the arithmetic of our prayershow many they are; nor the rhetoric of our prayershow eloquent they be; nor the geometry of our prayershow long they be; nor the music of our prayershow sweet our voice may be; nor the logic, nor the method, nor even the orthodoxy of our prayers. The one thing which prevails is ferventness and sincerity.
2. The very appeal is a tribute to God.May we not say that there is a faith of the mind and a faith of the heart? One climbs to his creed by syllogisms, from premise to conclusion, and seems to know not only what he believes, but why he believes it. Another is averse to logic, and clings to God in trustfulness through the magnetism of love. He does not know why he believes; it is enough for him that the character of God finds a response and an affinity in the impulses of his own soul. He may not exactly believe in the God of other men, at least according to the portraiture given by other men, but he believes in God as he understands His portraiture in the Gospel, and he worships what he sees. From the view-point of other men he may be an unbeliever, but his soul clings to an ideal which he finds in the Book of God; and at least he can say: Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief. And he may take to himself the words of the apostle: If our heart condemn us not, then have we confidence toward God. It is something to know what is in your mind, but it is more to know what is in your heart, for out of the heart are the issues of life. The brain is the birthplace of ideas. The heart is the touchstone of impulse. The mind moulds creeds. The heart may have no spoken language, but it is a dynamo, and it throbs motive into life.
A Society of Atheists at Venice sent an address to Victor Emmanuel congratulating him on the escape of his son and daughter from assassination. Forgetting that they were atheists, they thanked Divine Providence for the miraculous escape.
It is told of Thistlewood, the Cato Street conspirator, that, after arguing against the existence of a God, the moment he was left alone he was heard to fling himself on his knees in his prison cell in a passion of entreaty, and that on the scaffold he poured out the agonised supplication, O God, if there be a God, save my soul, if I have a soul!1 [Note: E. J. Hardy.]
II
Christs Attitude towards the Suppliant
i. The Sympathy of Christ
1. There are people so superior in their own estimation that it is impossible to approach them. They do not suffer fools gladly or suffer them at all. If we ask them a question they snap us up; they cannot tolerate our ignorance and stupidity. It is different with those who are really great. Their patience with our infirmities often surprises us. And the greatest of all, the perfect Man, was, and is, the most accessible. He suffered children to come unto Him when His followers would have driven them away. Any one might touch His garment, and He put His hand even on lepers. Few of us believe enough to tolerate doubt. How different was the Truth in this respect! The greater than Solomon who answered the hard questions of humanity was most patient to faithless, awkward, stupid interrogators. The Lord Jesus Christ did not insist upon a confession of His Divinity. Christs first followers were far from possessing the full Christian belief. A centurion merely said that a word of His would heal, and the Lord commended the greatness of his faith. An alien woman asked to eat the crumbs of His mercy, and He answered, O woman, great is thy faith. When one of His followers declared Him to be the Christ, the Son of the living God, he received the beatitude which may now be read in huge letters underneath the dome of St. Peters.
Chief Justice Coleridge once confessed that his mind was sorely perplexed on the question of inspiration. He was told that most of the men who had difficulties on that subject were too wicked to be reasoned with. We may be sure that this answer was as little pleasing to our Lord Jesus Christ, for whom the man who gave it was mistakenly zealous, as was the desire of the sons of Zebedee to call down fire from heaven against opponents. Believers should recognise those weak in faith as men of like passions with themselves, and give them credit for wishing to believe if they could do so, instead of, by their manner, conveying to them, while using the endearing term beloved brethren, the compliment which some Egyptian kings are said to have paid their people before asking for any special favour, By the head of Pharaoh, ye are all swine. They should let them see that they appreciate the difficulties to faith which are felt only by those who try to realise to themselves the meaning of what they profess to believe. Very often unbelievers are in revolt, not against Christianity, but against a grim, repulsive perversion of it.1 [Note: E. J. Hardy.]
2. What constitutes the difference between the believer and the unbeliever, since they both doubt and both believe? Are they not therefore in the same spiritual order? Think not so. The great fact, the determining fact, in the life of the believer is his belief; in the life of the unbeliever it is his doubt. The believer clings to his faith, and suspects his doubt. The unbeliever clings to his doubts and suspects his faith. The poor man of the text, the man with a sick child (and how we pity him, and pity the child!)is he a believer or an unbeliever? Which does he put first, his faith or his unfaith? Lord, I believe. That is the first thing in his mind. That counts most. The other thought is secondary. So he is a believer, but he is a doubting believer. His prayer is the prayer of a doubter, but he is a believing doubter. There is a world of difference between honest doubt and stupid or stubborn unbelief. Jesus dealt differently with the two, and so should we. Him that is weak in the faith receive ye, but not to doubtful disputations. And again, Tarry one for another. Some are able to make more rapid progress in truth than others; let not such despise those who find it hard to take their first few steps in faith.
You know how it is in school. There are always some bright, precocious scholars who leave the others far behind. You know the contempt with which the prize scholar sometimes looks upon the trailer. You know the impatience of the teacher sometimes when a whole class is held back by one student who cannot get over a hard place or see through an intricate problem. I do not know that the best pedagogy would say to the teacher, Tarry for the slow scholar, but many a slow scholar has caught up with his class because some teacher patiently tarried for him. You know what soldiers do on a long march. They tarry for the weak and the lame, except in the emergency of approaching battle. The strong and vigorous will bear the arms of the weak, and if one sinks down by the roadside, there is an ambulance for him, and, in the absence of an ambulance, officers have been known to dismount, and repeat the beautiful self-denial of the Samaritan who put a wounded man on his own beast and brought him to the inn. Look at the Masters treatment of this doubter. The man confesses his faith is faltering. Something is in the way of his belief. I have wondered if it may not have been that barrier to faith which all of us have stumbled over at times when approaching some great promise of God, that common reflection, It is too good to be true. Whatever it was, it was no barrier to the love and power of Jesus, for, without delay, He granted the fathers request, and spoke the word that released and relieved the afflicted child.1 [Note: C. C. Albertson.]
ii. The Power of Christ
1. The father of the boy comes to Christ as a doubter; he is sure of nothing but his own distress. If thou canst do anything, have compassion on us, and help us. Christ gives him back his doubts. He repeats the fathers words, and places them in contrast with the spiritual facts which he had yet to learn: If thou canst! For one who believes, all things are possible: i.e. it is for thee rather than for Me to decide whether this thing can be done; it can be, if thou believest.
It is the majestic power of Christ that draws the distracted father to lay hold of His omnipotence. His word is like the blow of steel upon flint; it strikes a little spark of faith which lights up the soul, and turns the smoky pillar of doubt into clear flame of confidence, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.
Bishop Westcott has said, Faith is a principle of power. Yes, and Christ is the great Power which, as a magnet, draws all faith to Himself. It is to be in touch with Christ that gives faith power.
Can peach renew lost bloom,
Or violet lost perfume;
Or sullied snow turn white as overnight?
Man cannot compass it, yet never fear:
The leper Naaman
Shows that God will and can;
God who worked there is working here;
Wherefore let shame, not gloom, betinge thy brow,
God who worked then is working now.
2. Christ is our great argument. He is both the glory and the defence of Christianity. The case of John Stuart Mill may be taken as a typical one. That this calm, guarded, sceptical thinker should close a life of research by acknowledging the validity of the argument from design, extolling Christianity, attributing its main power to the doctrine of an incarnate God, admitting that Christ is really historical, praising and vindicating His character, and in so many words recommending Him to the worship of men, is certainly something to make the most inveterate unbeliever think and think again. And any man who is conversant with the chief writers of the time will perceive that John Stuart Mill is not solitary, but that, in spite of a materialistic drift, there is an under-current of the earnest, intensely ethical, philanthropic, and spiritual which is turning hearts more and more to Christ. The character of Christ was never so much or so widely appreciated as at the present day, nor has the difficulty of accounting for Him on purely natural principles ever pressed so heavily. In the history of Christ, the materialist is confronted with this question: Was this noble, self-denying, compassionate Holy One, who bore mankind on His heart, who on the Cross prayed for His murderers and resigned His spirit into the hands of His heavenly Fatherwas He only a fleeting combination of atoms, and was all this sublime self-devotion a delusion? Is this life and death of Jesus a creation of human thought? Is that great picture of God manifest in the flesh, a God so loving that He comes into human nature to suffer and die and thus win men back to Himself, simply the projection of the human heart, an ideal which it forms for itself? Then what depths there must be in the heart that creates such an ideal and worships it! Is this the ideal that man forms? and is he himself only perishable matter?
The history of Jesus is wholly unparalleled. It is so splendid, so wrapt in deepest mystery, so clear, so simple, and so deep, with roots through all the past, and throwing such light over God and man. Is that history a human creation? This is the difficulty that unbelief has to meet. Objections raised against particular parts of the Bible and difficulties about inspiration do not affect this. Treat the Bible as you like, you can never throw the Divine out of it. You can never obliterate the marks of a great Divine purpose in it or remove the glory of its great miracle and proofJesus Christ. Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life.1 [Note: J. Leckie.]
Faith and Doubt
Literature
Albertson (C. C.), College Sermons, 55.
Butler (H. M.), Harrow School Sermons, 61.
Dix (M.), Sermons Doctrinal and Practical, 195.
Hardy (E. J.), Doubt and Faith, 135.
Jowett (B.), College Sermons, 11.
Ker (J.), Sermons, 2nd Ser., 1.
Leckie (J.), Sermons Preached at Ibrox, 362.
Maclaren (A.), The Wearied Christ and other Sermons, 125.
Martineau (J.), Endeavours after the Christian Life, 343.
Parkhurst (C. H.), A Little Lower than the Angels, 186.
Pierce (C. C.), The Hunger of the Heart for Faith, 1.
Roberts (W. Page), Our Prayer-Book, Conformity and Conscience, 192.
Spurgeon (C. H.), The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, xviii. 61.
Westcott (B. F.), The Historic Faith, 1.
Christian World Pulpit, lxiv. 359 (Mellowes); lxv. 286 (Cowe); lxxiv. 421 (Thomas).
Churchmans Pulpit, pt. xx. 396 (Stokoe).
Fuente: The Great Texts of the Bible
with: 2Sa 16:12, *marg. 2Ki 20:5, Psa 39:12, Psa 126:5, Jer 14:17, Luk 7:38, Luk 7:44, Act 10:19, Act 10:31, 2Co 2:4, 2Ti 1:4, Heb 5:7, Heb 12:17
help: Luk 17:5, Eph 2:8, Phi 1:29, 2Th 1:3, 2Th 1:11, Heb 12:2
Reciprocal: Psa 77:10 – This is Psa 119:40 – quicken Psa 119:173 – Let Mat 9:28 – Believe Mat 15:25 – Lord Mat 15:28 – be it Joh 4:50 – Go Act 14:9 – he had Rom 4:19 – being
Fuente: The Treasury of Scripture Knowledge
FAITH AND DOUBT
Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief.
Mar 9:24
This cry of a soul in distress was spoken to God. Yet it contains elements which look to us incompatible: the affirmation of faith, and the confession of doubt. I believe. It is an emphatic statement, made to Him who knew what is in man. Mine unbelief. It is equally clear and outspoken. Faith and doubt are in the same soul together; fighting together in the same heart. The question was not about imaginary troubles or sentimental sorrows; it related to one of the most dreary and most practical of every day crosses and afflictions. Here was a father with a demoniac son; bodily sickness and darkness of mind; human nature brought to the lowest ebb. To this sad scene God draws near with power. There is help somewhere. But before the help can be given, one thing is demandedfaith.
Lord I believe; help Thou mine unbelief! What a clear, strong utterance! Hopeful at once and painfulpainful in its confession, hopeful in its resolve. Here is the true philosophy of humanity and life; it accords with all we know of ourselves, with all we have heard of the Lord.
I. Doubt and faith co-exist in the heart.It is natural to us to believe, and natural to doubt. As creatures of God we must believe; as fallen creatures we must doubt. It follows that the mere existence of doubt in the intellect or the heart is not sinful, nor need it disquiet the faithful. The sin begins where the responsibility begins, viz., in the exercise of the will. I believe and I doubt at once. Be it so. It is not my fault. But now, conscious of this, I have to act. How shall I act? What shall I do?
II. The will has power to choose between the two.This is the sheet-anchor of moral and intellectual life, that no man is compelled to be all his life long subject to bondage to the spirit of doubt. We were made to believe; we are the better and the happier for believing. What we must do, is what the man in the Gospel did: assert the principle of faith, boldly, bravely, and in the terms of that invincible, immortal Credo which man in all lands is ever uttering through the darkness, Lord, I believe! This must be the profession of the lips. And then, we must as boldly and bravely reject the principle of doubtthough we find it in us we must disown it; we must say, This is not mine, I acknowledge it not, it belongs not to me as God made me; it is a lower shape of some transient malady passing through my system; it is mine unbelief, even as my other sins are mineexcrescences, foreign, alien, and soon to be purged away.
III. If we choose to believe, God will help.The hour is at hand when doubt shall end for ever, and when the Eternal Truth shall stand out clear before our eyes. Doubt and uncertainty belong to this life; at the end of the world they will sink to long burial, while the world also sinks away, and then we shall see all things plainly.
Rev. Morgan Dix.
Illustration
What faith isthat is what we need first to realise, and then we have to go on to see with equal clearness what it is not. Here Bishop Westcott speaks with no uncertain sound: Credulity is not faith. That indolent abdication of the responsibility of judgment in favour of every pretender, that superficial assent lightly given and lightly withdrawn, is utterly at variance with the intense, clear vision and with the resolute grasp of faith. Superstition is not faith. To choose for ourselves idols, whatever they may be, to invest with attributes of the unseen world fragments of this world, to brood over shadows, is to deny faith, which is at every moment active, progressive, busy with the infinite. Conviction is not faith. We may yield to what we admit to be an inevitable intellectual conclusion. Our opposition may be silenced or vanquished. But the state of mind which is thus produced is very often simply a state of exhaustion and not of quickening. Till the heart welcomes the Truth, it remains outside us.
Fuente: Church Pulpit Commentary
4
Believe and unbelief seem like opposite terms. The man said he did believe, so the request meant that his faith should be made stronger.
Fuente: Combined Bible Commentary
Mar 9:24. And straightway the father of the child cried out. A touching description, true to nature and drawn from life. The full form; the father of the child, not only implies that the son was a child in years, but suggests the spiritual connection between father and child in this matter, and the effect of the faith of the former upon the cure of the latter. When the fathers faith had been sufficiently tested, the helpless child was healed.
I believe, help thou mine unbelief, i.e., want of faith. The mans faith is further awakened by the challenge of our Lord; but this increase of faith only shows him how great his doubt is; and he at once adds to his confession of belief a new prayer for help,help for himself, that thus help might come to his only son. This will seem natural to all who have any faith, and paradoxical only to outright unbelievers. Weak faith is yet faith and when it leads to prayer it becomes stronger. Alford: Nothing can be more touching and living than this whole most masterly and wonderful narrative. The poor father is drawn out into a sense of the unworthiness of his distrust and the little spark of faith which is kindled in his soul reveals to him the abysmal deeps of unbelief which are there (Trench).