If you were with us last week, you remember where we left off. On the mountain. The transfiguration. For a moment the veil of Jesus’ humanity gets pulled back and Peter, James, and John see Him as He truly is. Glory so bright it can’t be described any other way than clothes whiter than any bleach could get them. Then the Father speaks from the cloud: “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.”
Peter wanted to build tents and just stay up there. Honestly, I get it. Wouldn’t you?
But they couldn’t stay. Down the mountain they went. And down at the bottom of that mountain was real life. A crowd. An argument. A desperate dad. A suffering boy.
That’s where most of us live, isn’t it? Not on the mountain. Down here. Where the bills keep showing up. Where the doctor calls with the news you were dreading. Where people disappoint you and, if we’re honest, you disappoint them right back. Some of you sat in the auditorium Sunday morning carrying something heavy, and the person in the chair next to you had no idea.
Here’s what I want you to see. Jesus left the glory and walked directly into that mess at the bottom of the mountain. Nobody made Him. That’s just who He is. He has never once observed our condition from a safe distance. He steps into it.
Now look around at this scene in Mark 9. Count the helpless people. The boy? Can’t save himself. His father? He’s tried everything. The disciples had been given real authority, and even they came up empty. The scribes are useless, all they can do is argue. The crowd just stands there watching. Every last person in that valley is powerless.
Except one.
Friend, this is your story too. For some of you it’s a marriage you cannot fix no matter how hard you try. For others it’s a child. Or it’s quieter than that. A habit. A pattern. The thing you swore you’d be done with a hundred promises ago. I won’t ask you to name it. You already know what it is. So does He.
Then this father says out loud what many of us have only felt. “If you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.” Catch that. Not if you will. If you can. This man has been beaten down by so many years of disappointment that he’s not even sure Jesus has the power anymore. And when Jesus presses him on it, out comes what I think is one of the most honest prayers in the whole Bible.
“I believe. Help my unbelief.”
Can I be honest with you? I deal with doubt. Not once in a while. Frequently. I’d love to tell you my faith never wavers, but that wouldn’t be true. And here’s what this text has taught me: God is not bothered by your doubt. He isn’t waiting for you to pull yourself together before He’ll come close. Faith was never a power you work up. Faith is an empty hand, reaching for the only one who can actually help. Weak faith in a strong Savior beats strong faith in anything else, every single time. That trembling prayer was enough for Jesus that day. It’s enough for you today.
And how does Jesus handle the demon? One word of command. No struggle, no ritual, nothing dramatic on His end at all. The boy goes so still the crowd starts saying he’s dead. And Jesus stoops down in the dirt, takes the boy’s hand, and lifts him up. Mark writes it with the very same words he used back in chapter 5 when Jesus raised Jairus’s daughter. That’s on purpose. Mark wants you to hear resurrection in that valley. A small one, pointing ahead to a far greater one.
Because the healing isn’t the biggest victory in this passage. Right after, Jesus starts teaching the disciples again about where this road actually leads. The Son of Man will be delivered into the hands of men. Killed. And on the third day, raised. The cross is where the greater exorcism happens. Not one demon out of one boy in one valley. Satan himself, cast down. Every accusation he has ever hurled at you, silenced. Nailed to a cross and carried off in the body of the Son of God.
So maybe you’re still asking the father’s question. Can God really help me? Will He? Romans 8 answers it better than I ever could. If God gave up His own Son for you, the greater thing by far, why would He withhold the lesser things? Your valley is not beyond the reach of the one who went all the way to Calvary for you.
Don’t put your trust in your faith. He stays faithful even when yours flickers. Don’t lean on your own strength. His doesn’t run out.
You don’t need a strong faith. You need an honest one.
I believe. Help my unbelief.
He took that boy by the hand. He’ll take yours.
Listen to the full sermon here: Mark 9:14-32 – From Glory to Grace
And worship with us Sundays at 10:30 AM at Northview Middle School Auditorium, 302 28th Ave NE, Hickory, NC (behind Publix on Hwy 127). We’d love to see you.
Tripp Castell
Pastor, Hickory Presbyterian Church
