Help me overcome my unbelief

There is a remarkable story in the ninth chapter of Luke's gospel which addresses the nature of faith.  It concerns a desperate father whose son is afflicted by evil spirits.  In Jesus' absence, some of his disciples have attempted to drive out the spirits without success.  When Jesus appears on the scene, the father appeals to him, 'If you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.'  Within that cry for help we find both an element of faith (he asks Jesus for help), and a level of uncertainty ('if you can do anything').  Jesus responds, with the assertion that, ‘Everything is possible for one who believes,’ to which the father exclaims, ‘I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!’

I wonder whether that is a cry to God which many of us have offered.  We know that the writer of the Biblical book of Hebrews tells us that, 'Without faith it is impossible to please God,' (Hebrews 11:6) and that as followers of Jesus we are called to a life of faith.  Yet there are times for most, if not all, of us when our faith appears incredibly small in comparison to the issue we may be facing, and we echo the heartfelt cry of the father, ‘I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!’

I'm going to make a bit of a confession at this point.  Most of the time I am a reasonably laid-back type of person.  I don't usually allow myself to become anxious or to let problems get on top of me; mostly I am able to rest in the assurance that God is in control and things will work out ok if I continue to trust in him.  Having said that, there is a particular current issue which, for some reason, has managed to get under my skin.  I sometimes find myself waking up early with it on my mind; or it tries to follow me like a relentless dark cloud in the sky which proves so difficult to escape.

Someone might remind me of Paul's advice and promise to the Philippian Christians, 'Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.'  I know that the problems and difficulties which Paul faced dwarf anything I may experience.  I also know that as a Church leader I should try to set an example of faith.  By admitting my current struggle I am perhaps making myself vulnerable, but maybe for too long many Christian leaders have tried to hide behind a mask of perfection.

I am currently using a daily devotional book by Steven Furtick called "Sun Stand Still."  In today's passage he addresses the struggle between uncertainty and faith: 

"Perhaps true faith always feels this way.  On the one hand, I know that God is able to do anything.  On the other hand, I think he's willing to do this specific thing.  And I'm pretty sure he will.  But I can't be completely sure.  That's where audacious faith comes in.  Audacity isn't the absence of uncertainty and ambiguity.  Audacity is believing that God's promise is bigger than my perhaps."

Even as I write this, I have a sense of God's hand in it all.  I know very well that nothing is impossible for him, and I believe that he WILL work things out.  Maybe the struggle with faith and doubt is just part of our human condition.  I just pray that I will continue to grow in faith and leave many of the doubts behind.  In the story on Mark 9, although the father's faith was small and he admitted his doubts, Jesus responded to what faith he had and the son was set free from the afflicting spirits. Ultimately, it's not the size of our faith which is the vital factor, but in whom we put our faith.

 

You raise me up

Sue and I were privileged recently to be able to attend a book launch at St Martin's House in Leicester.  The book is titled 'Still Emily', and its author is a remarkable lady called Emily Owen.  Emily was a multi-talented teenager who, at the age of 16, was diagnosed with Neurofibromatosis Type 2, and found herself in hospital fighting for her life.  Though she survived, she had to come to terms with the fact that many elements of her life had been taken from her (including her education, her smile, her hearing, and her ability to walk).  Emily's book is about her journey, and how she has been able to discover 'value in new places, seeing the rainbows in the silence.'  We bought a copy of the book, and I very much look forward to reading it.

Emily shared just a little of her story at the book launch, and it became clear as she spoke that the loving and caring support of her family, friends and medical team had been foundational in the journey which she has taken over the years since her condition became apparent.  She has also found strength through her relationship with God and the knowledge of his constant presence even in the most trying of times.  Of course, it is in the tough times of life that the reality (or otherwise) of our faith is revealed.

During the reception were entertained by a choir who sang a number of songs, including, co-incidentally, one which Emily had quoted in her book and which clearly has great meaning for her personally, Westlife's popular song, "You raise me up."  It is worth reading the lyrics:

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary,
When troubles come and my heart burdened be,
Then I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

You raise me up so I can stand on mountains,
You raise me up to walk on stormy seas,
I am strong when I am on your shoulders,
You raise me up to more than I can be.

There is no life - no life without it's hunger,
Each restless heart beats so imperfectly,
But when you come and I am filled with wonder,
Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity.

You raise me up so I can stand on mountains
You raise me up to walk on stormy seas
I am strong when I am on your shoulders
You raise me up to more than I can be.

The song has been hugely popular over the years, not least because it reminds us of the enormous blessings of the support of close family and friends in troubled times.  The identity of the "You" in the song is not made clear.  It could very easily relate to God's constant presence with us, especially, perhaps, with the notion of glimpsing eternity.  It is noticeable, for example, how a verse from Psalm 27, written thousands of years ago, expresses very similar sentiments:

'There I’ll be when troubles come. He will hide me. He will set me on a high rock.' (Psalm 27:5)

That has certainly been Emily's experience, and it has been the experience of countless people through the years.  Whatever we face in life, when we reach out to God we find that he is with us.