Imperfectly perfect faith

The gospels are full of stories where faith and doubt collide. Take the story about a father who came to Jesus, looking for healing for his son (Mark 9:17-24). He says to Jesus, ‘My son suffers terribly; he is possessed by an evil spirit that won’t let him talk, that seizes him and throws him violently to the ground, so I asked your disciples to cast out the evil spirit, but they couldn’t do it.’ *

Jesus turns to his disciples and says, ‘You faithless people! How much longer must I be with you? How long must I put up with you?’ Ouch! I’d imagine that comment would have hurt!

Jesus then asks that the boy be brought to him, but when the evil spirit sees Jesus, it throws the child into a violent convulsion. Jesus asks the father how long this has been going on. ‘Since he was a little boy,’ the father replies. ‘Have mercy on us and help us …’

It’s a fair plea: a father is grieving for his son and wants help, so he turns to Jesus and asks for mercy. But the father, it seems, is also riddled with doubt. After making his bold request for help, he then tacks on to the end, ‘… if you can.’ To which Jesus brazenly responds, ‘What do you mean, “If I can?” Don’t you know that anything is possible if a person believes?’

There is no doubt in Jesus’ mind that he can heal the boy. But the father remains unsure. ‘I do believe,’ he states, ‘but help me overcome my unbelief!’

I find these words quite comforting. The father’s response to Jesus is a mixture of trust and despair. And isn’t ours as well? When faced with turmoil or uncertainty, we too believe in God—we have faith, but even so, mixed in with our faith is uncertainty.

And yet despite the uncertainty, God still responds.

A responsive God

Another time, Jesus’ disciples were in a boat and they were trying to get across to the other side of the lake. The wind was blowing and it was getting choppy, and then Jesus comes walking on the water out to them (Matthew 14:22-31).

They all think it’s a ghost coming toward them, so they cry out in fear. But Jesus says to them, ‘Do not be afraid, it’s me.’ ‘Lord, if it is you,’ replies Peter, ‘tell me to come to you.’

‘Come,’ says Jesus, and so Peter gets out of the boat and starts walking on the water toward Jesus. But as he makes his way, he suddenly looks around and sees the waves and feels the wind … and then he comes to the realisation that he, too, is walking on water. He gets scared (naturally) and begins to sink. ‘Lord, save me!’ Peter cries. And then, the Bible tells us that Jesus ‘immediately’ reached out his hand and caught Peter.

At this point, Jesus gives Peter a rebuke of sorts: ‘You of so little faith, why did you doubt me?’ And it’s a fair question! But Peter’s lack of faith didn’t stop Jesus from rescuing him, either.

At different times in their lives, my children have come to me and said, ‘I’m scared, Dad.’ And when that happened, I didn’t punish them for being scared, nor did I take away my love and support for them. After all, who does that? Who punishes a child because they feel scared or frightened or lack faith?

And if God is love, how do we think God responds when we are at our weakest? God doesn’t withhold his love or withdraw his hand (Well, Peter, you can just sink!). When we get scared, or when we lose faith, or when our faith is low, it’s in those times that God’s love, God’s strength and God’s protection abounds.

I find this quote from R.T. France very helpful and reassuring: ‘It’s not the amount of faith which brings the impossible within reach, but the power of God, which is available to even the smallest faith’.

Thinking back on the story about the father and his troubled son, Jesus could have said to the man, ‘Go and work on your doubt, and when you have it all sorted out, come back to me.’ But Jesus doesn’t say that. The boy’s father says, ‘Help my unbelief’ and Jesus responds.

Imperfectly perfect

When the temple in Jerusalem was originally built, it had three parts: the outer court, the inner court and the holy of holies. The holy of holies area was a sacred space surrounded by a thick veil where no one was permitted to enter except the High Priest—and even then he could only enter once a year.

That day was known as the ‘Day of Atonement’, but preparations began a week before. The high priest was taken away from his home to a secluded place where he would live completely alone, so he couldn’t accidently touch anything that was considered unclean. The other priests would attend to his needs, bringing him food and such, so that the high priest could concentrate solely on preparing his heart.

On the night before the Day of Atonement, the High Priest wouldn’t go to bed. Instead, he stayed up all night, praying and reading God’s word—all in an effort to purify his soul.

When the Day of Atonement finally arrived, the High Priest would wash himself from head to toe, before dressing in pure, unstained white linen. He would enter the Holy of Holies and offer an animal sacrifice to God, to pay the penalty for his own sins. He would then leave the Holy of Holies, bath again, and dress in a new set of pure white linen clothes. After this, the high priest would re-enter the Holy of Holies, this time sacrificing for the sins of the priests. Then he would leave, complete the cleansing ritual one more time, and return to Holy of Holies a third time, this time sacrificing for the sins of all the people.

Although only one man could enter the holy of holies (as the representative for the community of God), the cleansing process, the bathing rituals and the sacrifices that were made there were never done in isolation. On the Day of Atonement, the temple was crowded, with everyone watching as much as they could as closely as possible. Even the bathing was watched—although this took place (thankfully!) behind a thin screen.

The people and priests took so much interest in the ritual because they were concerned that nothing would be done wrongly. With God, they were taught, everything had to be perfect. And so, while in a sense they came to cheer on the High Priest, they were also there to ensure that he was as pure as can be.

In November of the second year of King Darius’s reign (around 520 BC), God gave the prophet Jeremiah a vision. It was a vision of Joshua, the High Priest, standing before the presence of God in the holy of holies. But his garments were not white or clean as they should have been. Instead, they were covered in excrement. Meaning that he was standing before God absolutely defiled.

God was revealing to Zechariah that in spite of our best efforts to be pure, to be good, to be moral, to cleanse ourselves, God sees our hearts. And our hearts—it turns out—are full of filth.

Imagine how soul-destroying that moment must have been for Zechariah. The people of God were trying their very best, doing all they could to ensure that the high priest stood before God clean of heart, clean of body, clean of soul. But their best efforts fell remarkably short.

But just as Zechariah was about to despair, God said to him, ‘I will send to you a new High Priest, a new Joshua.’ Today, we know this Joshua to be Jesus (Jesus and Joshua are the same name in Aramaic, Greek and Hebrew).

The perfect high priest

In many ways, Jesus staged his own Day of Atonement. One week before his crucifixion, Jesus began to prepare. He enters Jerusalem, cleansing the Temple. Then, the night before his crucifixion, he doesn’t go to sleep; instead, he spends the night in prayer.

But what happened to Jesus next was exactly the reverse of what happened to the high priests of old. Instead of the crowd cheering Jesus on, they called for him to be executed. Instead of Jesus being clothed in pure white garments, he was stripped of the only garment he had. Instead of Jesus being bathed in water, he was bathed in human spit.

And why? The Apostle Paul puts it this way: ‘For God made Christ, who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ. And all of this is a gift from God, who brought us back to himself through Christ. And since it is through God’s kindness, then it is not by our good works. For if that was case, then God’s grace would not be what it really is—free and undeserved’ (2 Corinthians 5:21; 2 Corinthians 5:18; Romans 11:6).

When it comes to faith, a belief (or faith) in God is essential. I am not denying this. But even so, a relationship with God is not based on what you can offer God, but on what God has already offered to you. Whether you have lots of faith or small faith, whether you have no doubts or you are flooded with serious doubt, God will respond to you the same.

In his book King’s Cross, Timothy Keller puts it this way: ‘Through Jesus we don’t need perfect righteousness, just repentant helplessness.’ This reminds me that when it comes to our relationship with God, our faith is actually never enough. We need God, and we need God’s gift of grace. Not so that we can be perfect—because we cannot—but so that we can live a free and full life, fully dependent and reliant on the goodness and kindness of God.

* Bible quotes from the New Living Translation

Major Darren Elkington is Corps Officer (pastor) of Whangarei Salvation Army