Reminiscere Vespers 2023

Mark 9:17-29

March 12, 2023

Right away we see there’s something a little different. The boy in tonight’s Gospel reading is carried by his dad. Our ESV has him say to Jesus, “Teacher, I brought my son to you.” But the more natural reading is, “Teacher, I carried this son of mine to You.”

Once they walk, we don’t carry our children anymore. Until they’re sick, or something is wrong; then we revert to treating them like babies, carrying them, wishing we could take all their burdens unto ourselves.

But we can’t. This father knows that. That’s why he says to Jesus, “I carried my son to you.”

How many times had he made similar journeys, carrying his son to physicians, priests, anyone who might be able to help?

His boy seems to have two problems: he’s alalon - what we would today call “non-verbal” - and he has seizures. They cause him to writhe on the ground, foam at the mouth, grind his teeth, and then be non-responsive.

The father attributes all this to demonic activity.

It’s quite natural to say, “Well, today we know better. We have sciency words for it: autism, and seizures.”

Yet when you talk to physicians today who specialize in these things—intelligent, wonderful, learned people, with expensive, complex diagnostic tools—they frequently have no answers, no explanation, and no remedy. So maybe St. Mark, Jesus, and this dad know something we’ve forgotten.

Now we don’t want to say that the problem is “spiritual” in the sense that there is no material, no matter involved, no problem with the brain or other parts of the body. But what we learn from Holy Scripture is that the world has fallen under a curse, both material and spiritual things are corrupted, and demons are indeed active in causing human suffering.

The Large Catechism, on the petition deliver us from evil, puts it this way:

There is also included in this petition whatever evil may happen to us under the devil’s kingdom: poverty, shame, death, and, in short, all the agonizing misery and heartache of which there is such an unnumbered multitude on the earth. Since the devil is not only a liar, but also a murderer [John 8:44], he constantly seeks our life. He wreaks his vengeance whenever he can afflict our bodies with misfortune and harm. Therefore, it happens that he often breaks men’s necks or drives them to insanity, drowns some, and moves many to commit suicide and to many other terrible disasters [e.g., Mark 9:17–22]. So there is nothing for us to do upon earth but to pray against this archenemy without stopping. For unless God preserved us, we would not be safe from this enemy even for an hour.

The readings for the first weeks of Lent remind us that the world is alive with demonic activity, against which we must cry out for help.

Now the disciples of Jesus alone have no strength to drive out the spirit. So Jesus says, “Carry him to Me.” The father has already said this, that he carried his son to Jesus; but now Jesus says, “Bring him closer.” What does this mean to us, but that our problems, the ones we have brought to Jesus, must be brought closer? We learn at the end of the passage that this is a lesson about prayer. In our prayers we must bring the need closer to Jesus, keep on presenting our problem to Jesus, and get Him to “notice,” as it were.

So the dad brings his boy closer. But then things get worse. Upon being brought to Jesus, the wicked spirit harms the boy more. The child convulses.

Look who Jesus is. Jesus doesn’t just perform a trick and move on. He talks to the man. Jesus takes an interest in the child, the dad, and their life. The father says this has been happening since the boy was little, and it puts him in danger. He has these fits and is thrown into fire or water, “to destroy him.” This is the devil’s aim: by whatever means, to destroy us.

Then you can hear the dad’s desperation. He doesn’t dare to hope. He’s been let down a thousand times before. Nobody can help, and that’s probably the same with this preacher from Nazareth. “But if you can do anything, please, have compassion! Help!”

Jesus tells him that all things are possible to the one believing - here we think this means the power of our faith works miracles; but faith doesn’t work that way. Faith is specifically placing one’s trust in another. The power resides not in faith but in the object of faith. Jesus criticizes the father for doubting the possibility that Jesus could help; it was uncertain.

And the father responds not with calm, reasoned words, but a shout. He cries out, and acknowledges the truth of Jesus’ words, that part of him does not believe, and he asks for help even for this. “I believe; help my unbelief.”

The Formula of Concord uses this man as a comforting example for us, that it is not the strength of our faith that makes things happen, but the strength of Jesus:

Worthiness does not depend on the greatness or smallness, the weakness or strength of faith. Instead, it depends on Christ’s merit, which the distressed father of little faith [Mark 9:24] enjoyed as well as Abraham, Paul, and others who have a joyful and strong faith.

Now the boy seems dead. Jesus takes the boy’s hand. See how caring Jesus is! Jesus destroys the power of the demons, and restores humanity. It cost Him. And He’s not done.

We’re weak. We’re weak in the flesh, and we’re weak in faith. But we bring our little ones to Jesus, we bring our worries to Jesus, we bring our little faith to Jesus, and cry out, “Help!”

It may get worse for a time. But He will help. He will set all things right and make all things new. ✠INJ✠