Mtr Mary Trainor
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.*
Dear friend,
What exactly does it mean to believe? And, for those who feel they have the answer to that, I would then pose a question from the late Dr Verna Dozier, “Don’t tell me what you believe--tell me what difference it makes that you believe.”
So, again, what does it mean to believe?
Reading Mark’s Gospel today brought this question to mind, a question that has plagued me for decades. Along with a few other easily accepted-hard to define topics such as what is salvation, what happens when we die?
But for me all questions of faith started a long time ago with the one about believe.
In our Gospel for today, Jesus has just descended from his being visibly transfigured before his disciples, James and John, but the experiential glow is about to fade.
Greeted by a father desperate for the healing of his son, Jesus learns that his own disciples have failed the father and the son.
In a passage peppered with words that suggest profound annoyance, perhaps irritability, with his disciples, Jesus asks the father to bring his son to Jesus. At the end of the father’s recap of his son’s malady, he says to Jesus, “If you are able…” which prompts this response, “All things can be done for the one who believes.”
There it is. Boldly, plainly. The connection between heavenly outcomes and human belief.
The boy’s father clearly wants to qualify for his son’s healing, so he blurts out, “I believe; help my unbelief.”
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
The father’s reply has been a source of a great comfort to me through the years. His statement holds belief and unbelief together in tension. It fits so well with the Thomas Merton poem sprinkled throughout this reflection.
Is it possible that belief and unbelief are the yin-yang of faith, inseparable components working together on our behalf? That faith is not a zero-sum-game with only winners and losers?
And I know that...you will lead me by the right road...
I found a certain kind of peace—a God peace—when I first read those words from Mark years ago: Help my unbelief. Sometimes it’s still the only prayer I can muster.
...and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Mtr Mary