Saturday, March 20, 2010

From argument to prayer

Texts: Exodus 2.23-3.15, 1 Corinthians 13.1-3, Mark 9.14-29

Commemoration: Cuthbert of Lindisfarne
Almighty God, who called Cuthbert from following the flock to be a shepherd of your people: Mercifully grant that, as he sought in dangerous and remote places those who had erred and strayed from your ways, so we may seek the indifferent and the lost, and lead them back to you; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Jesus, Peter, James, and John have just come down from the Mount of Transfiguration when they encounter “a great crowd around them, and scribes arguing with them.” The commotion seems to have been caused by a man who has brought his son to be delivered from a spirit which not only makes him mute, but also throws him into convulsions. The disciples were unable to were unable to cast this spirit out of the boy, so the man goes directly to Jesus and pleads his case.

Jesus’ response sounds almost incredulous, “O faithless generation, how long am I to be with you? How long am I to bear with you? Bring him to me.”

Like so many who encounter Jesus, the father seems to be of two minds concerning the Lord’s ability to help his son. His request is conditional, “But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” Jesus immediately throws the responsibility of faith back to the man. “If you can!” Jesus replies, “All things are possible for one who believes.”

But the boy’s father has reached the limit of his human potential for faith. So, he cries out, “I believe; help my unbelief!” It is very important to keep this statement in mind when considering the context of Jesus’ statement immediately preceding it. Jesus was not saying to the man that he had the power in and of himself to do all things merely by believing. Rather, he was seeking to draw out of the man precisely the confession he makes. He believes, yet his faith has limits because of a lingering spirit of unbelief which can only be dispelled by the power of God. In coming face to face with Jesus, God incarnate, the man finally realizes that, perhaps even moreso than his son, he needs deliverance from an unclean spirit.

But that is not the end of the story, nor is the boy’s subsequent deliverance. What stands out in Mark’s account is a gradual, almost subtle, transition from a natural (carnal) orientation to a spiritual orientation. When Jesus first encounters the crowd, they are arguing with some scribes. At the end of the day, when his disciples ask him why they could not cast the unclean spirit out of the boy, Jesus replies, “This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer.” Thus, the circle is complete. What began as an argument was transformed and resolved by prayer, with the key transition being the man’s desperate confession, “I believe; help my unbelief!”

But “this kind” of spirit which “cannot be driven out by anything but prayer” is not a spirit which merely makes the boy mute. Rather, it is a spirit which exploits the situation of the boy and his father to sow dissension and debate in order to prevent the father from dealing with his own lack of faith in the power of God to deliver his son, and himself, from a life of agony and pain. Only when Jesus intervenes is the man able to make the confession which transforms the situation. What began as an argument ends as a prayer meeting (quite the reverse of what usually happens in many churches today).

Argument in the vain hope of driving out an unclean spirit is precisely the modus operandi of the mainline renewal establishment. But what has been the result of their endless debate with the scribes of revisionism and apostasy? They have prolonged the agony of countless faithful believers who have put their trust in them to deliver them from the clutches of an oppressive system which effectively renders their witness mute. But, worse yet, they have steadfastly refused to deal with those areas of their lives, such as trusting in the power of prayer over pursuing political power plays, where their own faith is lacking.

Out of the Depths to Thee I Cry
Out of the depths to Thee I cry,
Whose fainting footsteps trod
The paths of our humanity,
Incarnate Son of God!

Thou Man of grief, who once apart
Didst all our sorrows bear,
The trembling hand, the fainting heart
The agony, and prayer!

Is this the consecrated dower,
Thy chosen ones obtain,
To know Thy resurrection power
Through fellowship of pain?

Then, O my soul, in silence wait;
Faint not, O faltering feet;
Press onward to that blest estate,
In righteousness complete.

Let faith transcend the passing hour,
The transient pain and strife,
Upraised by an immortal power,
The power of endless life.

  • Elizabeth E. Marcy

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