Sunday 30 September 2012

Help My Unbelief (Mark 9.14-29)


There’s a story about an atheist who is sitting down in a restaurant and he sees a fly in his soup.
So he calls the waiter over and says, “Excuse me, but what’s this fly doing in my soup?”
The waiter looks down, sees the fly and says “I think the fly is praying, sir.”
So the atheist says “Very funny. Look, I can’t eat this. Take it back.”
And the waiter says “You see? His prayers were answered!”

What if you were an atheist and you took out insurance against acts of God? Would you still technically be an atheist?

In my work as a church leader I meet many people. Some are convinced believers, others are confirmed sceptics… but many, perhaps most, are somewhere in between.

A YouGov poll, published in The Times in 2007, surveyed people throughout the United Kingdom on their personal beliefs.

And this is what the survey found…

I am an atheist (I believe that there is no God) 16%
I believe in God 28%
I believe in “something” but I am not sure what 26%
I am an agnostic (I simply can’t know if there is a God) 9%
I would like to believe and envy those who do but can’t 5%
I don’t know 3%
I haven’t given it much thought 10%
Other 3%

This means, if the poll is accurate, that over half the population of this country consider themselves - in some sense at least – to be people of faith, either believing in God or in some kind of unspecified higher power.

I wonder which box you would tick if the market researchers asked you today?

You might have to think a little bit before answering because for many people, faith isn’t a fixed thing. I meet plenty of people for whom belief in God almost depends on what side of bed they got out of that morning; it swells and recedes, like the tides.

Actually, I seem to be meeting more and more people who drifted away from God earlier in life, but having stopped to think about the path they've taken, have recently turned back to God again.

I wonder why this is… Perhaps one reason why some turn back to Christ a little later in life is because they realise how empty their life has become.

One person told me recently that this was the case for him. He said that life without something – or Someone – to believe in just led to a sense of restlessness and boredom and emptiness.

In fact, it was a Christian funeral, with its clear focus on the resurrection to eternal life, that made him think about the significance of his life and the doubts he had about his eternal destiny.

If you find yourself on this path, you might find that, in some ways, you can relate to this morning’s Bible reading.

In the account found in Mark’s gospel we find Jesus’ 12 disciples in a town surrounded by a crowd which includes mischief-makers and cynics. We know that because v14 says that certain elements were picking a quarrel presumably trying to show everyone how ineffective the disciples were.

Unfortunately, it seems that wherever you find religion you get arguments and this was no exception.

These days, I often hear argumentative people say provocative things like “We need to get rid of faith. Most wars are caused by religion. God is a delusion. Faith, if you’re ignorant enough to have it, should be a private matter and has no place in the public sphere. And the latest one - teaching children about God is child abuse.”

And, because those who say things like this tend to speak confidently and loudly, many people have the impression that Christianity is weak and dying. In actual fact, globally, the church is actually growing.

It is here. Saint Mary’s has practically doubled in attendance in the four years I have been here – something for which I take little credit personally by the way. There is a buzz here. Things are happening.

But, while global Christianity is as vibrant as ever, formal religion (the man-made decrees, the irrelevant rituals and the pompous regalia) is dying. It has no future. It turns people off. The world has changed. All that churchy otherworldliness makes less and less sense to people now.

The truth is that formal religion never was the answer to the world’s questions – only now everybody knows it isn’t the answer.

But formal religion is not what Jesus came to bring. And when people encounter the grace and life that Jesus came to bring – that’s a different matter altogether. Then everything changes.

In our Bible narrative, we read about a serious spiritual problem that no one knows how to cope with.

As a church leader, from time to time I get desperate requests to go and investigate and deal with some kind of paranormal complaint.

Usually it’s a house in which there are strange goings on such as lights coming on all by themselves or objects that are inexplicably moved overnight. Several times I have been asked to see individuals who have become disturbed having dabbled with something evil like the occult.

I have come to learn that this kind of think is utterly real. What we read about in the Gospel earlier seems to be a particularly disturbing incident of this kind.

Try to think of a situation in your life, something dear to you, that seems to be utterly hopeless…

Here, there is a father agonising over his son. He is stricken with sorrow by the pain he sees him endure. There appears to be no hope and no relief. The disciples attempt to sort it all out, giving it their very best shot, but they are out of their depth and basically, whatever they’re doing it’s not working. You know that helpless feeling, when nothing’s working?

But the Bible says that when the people see Jesus, everyone is overwhelmed with wonder. There is something about Jesus that just sets him apart from everyone else.

Remember that this is a situation of conflict. Jesus transcends futile quarrels about religion. But when we encounter Jesus everything is possible.

Someone (not from round here by the way) whose marriage is in tatters said to me a few weeks ago “Why doesn’t God just sort out this mess I’m in?” I didn't say much in reply. But I reflected on that question afterwards.

We sometimes imagine that God should come and sort our lives out. But that is the wrong way round. In our reading, Jesus says “Bring the boy to me.”

He wants us to come to him.

“If you can do anything, then please help us” says the boy’s father to Jesus.

Jesus replies “What do you mean if?” Everything is possible for the one who believes.” And you can see that the man is torn. I do have faith but…

How would he answer that YouGov poll?

Probably somewhere between “I believe in God” and “I believe in something but I am not sure what.”

So he says, “I do believe. Help me overcome my unbelief.”

How much faith do you need? The truth is that we don’t always have faith like we feel we ought to have do we?

How much did the man have? Not much. It was faltering. “I believe. Help me overcome my unbelief.” But that is enough for Jesus to work with.

He was honest and he was open to grow. I invite you - in fact, I challenge you - to come to Jesus Christ with an open heart and mind and with the faith you have. 

The key to this passage is this: Jesus was prepared to go with the little faith this man had – not the great faith he didn't have. Everything… is possible… for one who believes.

So where to you place yourself in the YouGov poll? If you’re among the 56% who can’t say they definitely believe in God and yet don’t call themselves atheist either, our reading suggests that’s a good basis for coming to Jesus, ready to grow.

If you do find yourself today on the path that leads back to God, please don't shut him out any longer. Remember that God loves you, and Christ died for you. Don't let anything keep you from Him.


Sermon preached at Saint Mary's Long Newton, 30th September 2012