When Jesus Makes Things Worse

Audio of the sermon is here:

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

While Peter, James, and John are up on the mountain, witnessing the transfiguration of Jesus, seeing Moses and Elijah talking with Jesus, and hearing the voice of God the Father speak of Jesus, His Son, the other disciples are down in the valley. And there’s no glory down there. While they’re waiting for Jesus and Peter, James, and John, they have an encounter with a man who has a demon-possessed son. The man asks the disciples to cast out the demon, and, as he says, they were not strong enough. If that’s not enough, there’s a large crowd gathered around them, and the scribes are arguing with them.

Jesus finally comes down from the mountain and this is what He finds: His disciples and the scribes are arguing in the midst of a large crowd, and a son who still has a demon. And when the crowd sees Jesus, they really get excited. “Now we’re going to see a show!” Jesus says—to the scribes or to the disciples, it’s not clear—“What are you arguing about with them?” That’s when the man interrupts to say that he brought his son to Jesus—but Jesus wasn’t there. So he had to settle for the disciples of Jesus. And he is not satisfied. “I asked them to cast it out, but they were not strong enough.” Later, when the disciples ask why they could not cast it out, Jesus says to them, “This kind only comes out with prayer.” Someone asked the other day, what, were the disciples not praying? Because if they’re not strong enough to cast it out, and it only comes out by prayer, the strong implication is that, no, they were not praying. And if they’re not praying, that’s evidence that they think they’ve got it handled without God. After all, earlier, in chapter 6, Jesus gave them authority to cast out demons, and they did. But now, perhaps they’ve forgotten that this was Jesus’ authority, not theirs. And they are not strong enough.

And we’re not strong enough either. You probably know how it goes: a friend asks you a question—maybe a deep, existential question—and you don’t have a good answer. Someone is suffering, and you don’t have a good solution. You wish you could give them some of your faith, some of your assurance, but you can’t. People come to me, and they’re having trouble in their marriage, or trouble with their kids, or any number of things, and it is easy to feel helpless. I am not strong enough. But that’s the point. When Jesus comes down into the valley of all this mess and chaos, He says, “Faithless, unbelieving generation! How long will I be with you? How long will I have to endure with you, put up with you?” Unbelieving, prayer-less disciples; unbelieving scribes; unbelieving father of a demon-possessed son. If you’re able to do anything, help us in compassion.

If you’re able? If I’m able? All things are possible for the believing one. This is the real problem. Demons are a problem. But the deepest, truest problem is a lack of faith. And the father gets it: he said “help” about the demon in his son, but now he says “help” about his faith. “I believe; help my unbelief.” He’s been put in doubt about Jesus by the disciples inability to cast out demons. And the disciples are not strong enough, because their faith has been in themselves and their ability, rather than in the Jesus who gave them authority over demons. And whenever we put our trust in ourselves, in our ability to find the right words, in our strength, the problem is first of all in our hearts, not in whatever we’re faced with.

When Jesus sees a bigger crowd coming, He quickly commands the demon, “Come out of him, and don’t ever go back in.” And the demon shakes the son around, and comes out. Jesus has cast out the demon, but now it seems like the kid is dead. Sometimes, as far as we’re concerned, Jesus makes things worse. Like when Mary and Martha told Jesus that Lazarus was sick, Jesus waited until Lazarus had died before He came. And here, He casts out the demon, but now the son is like a corpse. But even if he’s not really dead, the crowd thinks he is: many of them say, “He is dead.”

You ever pray, and things get worse? Or maybe people are praying for someone’s healing, but she dies. What kind of power does Jesus have, anyway? Because we think that as long as someone’s alive, Jesus can do something. But once that person is dead, that’s it, that’s the end. If You had been here, Martha and Mary say. He’s dead, the crowd says. We had thought that this Jesus was the one to redeem Israel, the disciples on the road to Emmaus say. But now He’s dead, and that’s it. This, too, is a faith problem. We’ve got it exactly backwards. We think that if Jesus doesn’t heal someone here and now, temporarily—because all healing in this world is temporary—then He can’t do anything. But these things are all done in the light of the resurrection. Faith prays for healing in the light of the eternal healing of the resurrection. Faith prays for help in the light of the day when we will no longer need this kind of help. Faith prays always in the light of a promise that has been given. If there is no promise, there can be no faith, and then there can be no real prayer.

But Jesus has come for death and resurrection. So here He reaches out His hand to this apparently dead son, grabs his hand, and raises him up. And he rises. Jesus tells Lazarus to come out of the tomb, and he does. The dead Jesus doesn’t stay dead. How long does He put up with us? To the very, bitter end, to death on a cross, in the valley of all the faithless generations there have ever been, including this one. He endures to death, and then He rises from the dead. Lord, I believe; help my unbelief! And He does. But this is part of why Jesus tells people not to talk about His healing of the deaf and mute man. This is part of why Jesus casts out the demon quickly when the crowd starts to grow. Because we are constantly being distracted by our circumstances, and whether they change. We look around us. We see how things are going. We see how we feel. We look to see what happens. But faith does not look at circumstances, at situations, at changes in what is going on. Faith looks to Jesus. Because everything around us is constantly changing, sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. Sometimes people get better in this world, and sometimes they don’t. But Jesus doesn’t change. His promise doesn’t change. He has come for death and resurrection. So He drowns your old, unbelieving self in Holy Baptism, and He raises up a new creature by faith in Him. And He continues to do that work each time He delivers the forgiveness of sins to you. This is a daily work. He keeps reaching out to the dead and dying, and raising them up with His own life. And that new, Spirit-made creation says, “I believe.” And it says, “Help my unbelief. Kill off that old unbeliever who still hides in our flesh, and keep killing it off, until faith is no longer needed because it is only sight.” Until then, faith keeps looking at Jesus only, and faith keeps exercising that faith by praying to the only one who is strong enough to do anything about anything. Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.

In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. “And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7, ESV). Amen.

– Pr. Timothy Winterstein, 9/13/24

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