Doubt Doesn’t Matter
Immediately the boy’s father cried out and said, “I do believe; help my unbelief!” Mark 9:24 NASB
Doubt Doesn’t Matter (from August 2010, with revisions)
Unbelief – What an odd expression? It’s so odd that even good translations stumble over it. The NASB adds “help me in my unbelief” in the 1963 version. The NIV substitutes “help me overcome;” the NLT turns the whole phrase into “help me not to doubt.” The Greek text is literally “I believe. Help of me the unbelief” (pisteuo kurie boeithei mou tei apistia). The Greek term, apistía, doesn’t mean “doubt.” It means “unfaithfulness,” a behavioral expression, not a cognitive one. What a tangle! What is this “unbelief” of the father? How are we to understand what he says unless we can unravel the syntax?
If we convert this phrase back into Hebrew, we get something like this: Adoni hoshiah lahasar emoona kamoni. Notice the word lahasar. It is the verb “to lack” or “to be needy.” In other words, the father declares “hineni maamin,” “Here I am believing.” He offers himself as ready to act (hineni) according to the reliability of the words Yeshua has spoken (the root word emet – truth as reliability), but then he admits his lack. He is willing. He is ready. But he must be helped to see the goodness of God in these circumstances. He lacks stick-to-it motivation. This is not cognitive doubt. ‘emet is primarily a word about the manifestation of reliability in my actions. This man does not mentally doubt. He finds himself unable to do more than proclaim his readiness. He wants to manifest complete trust, but he doesn’t know how.
There are two great hurdles for belief. The first is what I already know. The second is what I already believe. The father in this story already knew his son’s terrible plight. He weeps over his child. He already knows the disciples have failed to heal his son. He already knows he is at the end of his resources. All of the evidence says that nothing will ever change. His son will die. Then he hears the words of Yeshua. He hears the words of hope, but he already knows that he isn’t able to trust his hope. There is too much evidence starring him in the face. He has had too many disappointments. He already believes that the die is cast, the lot has been drawn. He knows that God is good, but he believes that God is not willing because he lacks the ability to fully trust. What he knows is his sorrow and all the evidence that it will not change. He believes something might be possible but worries his own imperfect trust may impede the promised result. “Lord, help me.” In other words, accept what I am able to offer as worthy enough. I can do no more than this. Hineni. I am here.
It seems that many of us must confront our own imperfect reflections before we can fully appreciate God’s promises. Those reflections are usually confrontations with what we think we know about the world and what we believe to be the case about our realities. Like this father, we are sometimes unable to overcome these hurdles on our own. We recognize that they impede us, but we don’t quite know how to set them aside. All we can do is plead, “Lord, help me even in my fractured reflection.” Amazingly, it’s enough.
On our journeys we often come to the place where we’re just unable to see how to proceed. The weight of the world, of our circumstances, of our inability to stay with the old comfortable paradigm, leaves us feeling as if we want to go on but just can’t. That’s where this father is. He wants to believe the miracle can happen, but he just isn’t able to naively accept it anymore. Too much has happened. He’s willing. He just needs help. Maybe that’s me. Or you.
Topical Index: unbelief, apistia, lahasar, Mark 9:24
