The Believer's Paradox.

"Lord, I do believe! Help my unbelief!" (Mark 9:24). This was the honest confession of one whose faith had been put to a most severe test. It issued from a man who had a son possessed by a demon, which grievously tormented him, "Whenever it seizes him, it throws him to the ground. He foams at the mouth, gnashes his teeth and becomes rigid" (v. 18). What a sore trial was that for a tender parent! How thankful you should be, my reader, if in the sovereignty of God—you are blessed with normal and healthy children; and how sympathetic we should be toward those who have afflicted ones! No doubt this man had consulted different physicians, and perhaps had conferred with his pastor; but no relief had been obtained. What a testing of his submission to the will of God! Then he sought aid from Christ's disciples—but they had been unable to effect any cure, and "hope deferred makes the heart sick." Such, in brief, is the background of our text.

And now the great Physician commanded that the tormented one should be brought to Him—but we read "When the spirit saw Jesus, it immediately threw the boy into a convulsion. He fell to the ground and rolled around, foaming at the mouth" (Mk 9:20). Yes, matters generally seem to get worsewith us when the Lord begins to take us in hand—to demonstrate that our extremity is God's opportunity to manifest His sufficiency. It was thus with the afflicted Hebrews in Egypt. The darkest hour precedes the dawn.

But what a tremendous testing of this man's faith to behold his poor son foaming in agony at the Savior's feet! "Jesus asked the boy's father, "How long has he been like this?" "From childhood," he answered. "It has often thrown him into fire or water to kill him. But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us." (Mk 9:21, 22). Did the Lord Jesus indignantly rebuke him for questioning His power, and turn away in disgust? No, for "great is His mercy." Instead, He answered, "If you can believe, all things are possible to him that believes" (Mk 9:23), and we are told "Immediately the father of the boy cried out—I do believe! Help my unbelief."

How paradoxical was this language, for it was almost, if not quite, a contradiction in terms. If this man was a genuine believer, then why should he bemoan his unbelief? Or, since he bemoaned his unbelief, with what propriety could he claim to be a believer? It is like a man saying, I am hot—help my shivering coldness; I am strong—help my tottering weakness; for faith and unbelief are opposites.

Ah there are many paradoxes in the Christian life, which are quite unintelligible to the wise of this world. That man has to become a fool in order to be wise (1 Cor. 3:18), that he has to become a pauper in order to be made rich (Matt. 5:3), that he has to be made weak in order to become strong(2 Cor. 12:10), are enigmas that proud philosophers cannot elucidate. But thank God, what remains mysterious to the wise and prudent among men—is revealed to those who are babes in His family.

Unbelief is part of the entail of the Fall. By nature all of us are "children in whom is no faith" (Deut. 32:20). Frightful thing is that! To have a heart which distrusts God; to have a heart which is ever prone to lean upon anyone and anything rather than upon the Lord Himself; to forsake the Fountain, and betake ourselves to "cisterns which hold no water." Such is fallen man. Plenty of faith in himself, faith in his fellows, until he is disillusioned and disappointed; but no faith in God. That it is which explains why Christ is "despised an rejected by men," so that in the days of His flesh He cried "O faithless and perverse generation, how long shall I be with you!" (Matt. 17:17). This it is which accounts for the universal attitude of men toward both the Law and the Gospel—they do not believe the Author and Giver of them, they are destitute of faith in Him; and thus they will continue all their days—unless the Holy Spirit sovereignly intervenes and performs a miracle of grace in their hearts.

Unbelief remains in the hearts even of the regenerate. Though God imparts to them the gift of faith, he does not remove (in this life) the root of unbelief. The Heroes of Faith, whose portraits hang upon the walls of fame in Hebrews 11, experienced that solemn fact. Look at Abraham, the father of all those who believe—when famine arose in Canaan he went down to Egypt for support, and so afraid was he to trust his wife in the hands of God, he told a lie by saying she was his sister. Look at Moses; afraid to return to Egypt and confront Pharaoh after Jehovah had appeared to him at the burning bush and had promised the deliverance of His people (Exo. 3); and later, complaining to Him, because he had so evilly dealt with Israel (Exo. 5:22, 23). Look at David, the slayer of Goliath—yet saying in his heart "I shall now perish one day by the hand of Saul" (1 Sam. 27:1). Look at the once intrepid Elijah, fleeing in terror from Jezebel. Ah, my reader, the Holy Spirit has delineated the characters of the saints in the colors of truth and reality; not as they ought to have been—but as they actually were.

Unbelief is the great burden of the saint. It grieves his soul—the man in our text wept over it—do you? Gladly would the Christian be freed from this plague—but the Lord does not see fit to remove it in this life. Frequently it acts like a cloud that covers the sun, for there is nothing so effectual as unbelief in hiding from us the light of God's countenance.

Unbelief fetters our spiritual movements and impedes our progress. There are times when the believer fears that his unbelief will utterly sink him. Yet painful though this experience be, it is nevertheless a most hopeful and encouraging sign. It is not until God has communicated faith—that any soul is conscious of its unbelief! A living faith is necessary in order to recognize our dead unbelief! There must be Divine light to see its existence, and Divine light to feel its power. Here, then, is solid comfort for those who are groaning over this burden—in your unregenerate days you were neverexercised over your unbelief! To genuinely mourn for our wicked unbelief is a sure evidence that Divine life is present in the soul. Those who are strangers to God, certainly do not make conscience of such matters; how can they—when they are quite unconscious of the plague of their hearts! But the Christian is not only conscious of unbelief, he goes to God and makes humble and contrite confession of the same. Yes, it is a sense of this grievous burden which drives him to the great Physician, crying, "Lord, I do believe! Help my unbelief!" A true Christian does not cloak or excuse his unbelief—but honestly acknowledges it before God. Nor does he sit still and pity himself as one who is totally impotent and without any responsibility in the matter. No, he genuinely seeks "help," which clearly denotes he is resisting this enemy—but needs Divine assistance. True, without Christ he can do nothing (John 15:5)—but he can do all things by Christ strengthening him (Phil. 4:13).

Here, then, is the solution to the difficulty and the explanation of the paradox presented by the language in our text. There are two distinct and totally different principles or "natures" indwelling the saint—faith and unbelief, and there is a continual opposition between them. They issue from the "spirit" and the "flesh," concerning which we read, "For the sinful nature desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the sinful nature. They are in conflict with each other, so that you do not do what you want" (Gal. 5:17). It is this unceasing warfare between the two antagonistic principles that give rise to a dual experience—one moment trusting God, the next doubting Him; one moment resting upon and drawing comfort from His promises, the next having no confidence in the same. And this dual and distressing experience, moves him to cry "Lord, I do believe! Help my unbelief!" Ah, my reader, if you are not plagued with and burdened by unbelief, if you do not humbly confess the same to God and seek His help about it—then are you of all men most miserable.

Contrariwise, as we have already said, here is that which provides real comfort for the conscience-distressed and Satan-harassed soul. How often the Devil will tell a Christian, "Your profession is an empty one—you do not belong to the Household of Faith—how can you, when filled with unbelief!?" Listen, dear friend—the man in our text was a genuine believer—yet he owned his unbelief; and that is recorded for our instruction and comfort.

This internal warfare, is one of the plainest possible proofs that we are believers. No unbeliever ever shed tears over his unbelief; no empty professor ever groaned because of his questioning of God; no hypocrite is burdened by his doubts and fears. No! Such are filled with carnal confidence and fleshly assurance—they have not had a doubt about their salvation for years past; they can exercise faith any time, as easily as you can turn a tap and make the water come; but such is not the faith of God's elect.

"Lord, I do believe! Help my unbelief!" There are four things here claiming our attention.

First, the Paradox presented—this, together with its solution, we have considered above.

Second, a Fact affirmed, "Lord, I believe."

Third, a Request offered, "help."

Fourth, a Confession made, "my unbelief."

As it is often helpful to depart from the arrangement of a text, we will do so here, and take up its several clauses in their inverse order, looking at this man's confession, then his petition for help, and then the plea by which he supported his request, "I believe."

The Confession made, "my unbelief." We will, very briefly, observe four things in connection with the same.

First, it was an honest confession. This is the first thing that God requires from any praying soul—sincerity, genuineness, reality. He is not to be imposed upon by cant, nor will the mere uttering of words, however scriptural, gain His ear. Then be frank and artless in all your dealings with God, and never pretend to be what you are not—to the very end of your earthly pilgrimage. You will always be (in yourself) a vile sinner, unworthy of the least of His mercies. This man did not claim to possess a faith that never wavered, or boast that he was free from doubts and fears. No, he honestlyacknowledged that the sum of his faith was frequently eclipsed by the dark clouds of unbelief. O to be delivered from all insincerity when approaching the Throne of Grace!

Second, his confession was a humble one. That is the next thing which God requires from the praying soul—that he strip himself of the rags of self-righteousness and come before Him as one who is sinful and needy. This is very evident from the Epistle to the Laodiceans—they refused to abase themselves and take their proper place before the Lord. His charge was, "You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked!" (Rev. 3:17). Alas, to how many professing Christians do those solemn words apply today! To all such Christ says, "I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see" (Rev 3:18). It is just at this very point, that the Christian is distinguished from the hypocrite—the former humbles himself and takes his place before God in the dust, acknowledging his wicked unbelief.

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