Deepen our faithfulness to you

As I was reading this week’s Collect, for The Second Sunday after Trinity, I immediately thought of those words from St Mark’s Gospel, “I believe, help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24). Jesus’ disciples had tried unsuccessfully to heal a boy with a spirit that put him in harms way and prevented him speaking. When the boys father spoke to Jesus he was told that, “All things can be done for the one who believes”. To which the father immediately responded with, “I believe, help my unbelief!”

You can almost imagine the disciples responding in a similar way when Jesus tells them later, after they asked him why they couldn’t cast the spirit out, “This kind can come out only through prayer.” (Read the full account in Mark 9:14-29.) Presumably prayer was always a part of what happened during the healing process; so perhaps Jesus was hinting about a specially focussed kind of prayer requiring even more spiritual effort. This incident happened soon after the Transfiguration (Mark 9:2-13), following it immediately in Mark’s Gospel. Perhaps we’re to assume that Jesus’ time on the mountain was, for him, a time of particularly intense prayer, giving him on his return particularly heightened power.

It seems to me, though, that there was a considerable amount of belief being shown that particular day. The boys father believed enough in all that he’d heard about what was happening around this charismatic figure of Jesus to bring his ill son to him. He believed in Jesus’ friends enough to let them try to heal his son when he found them before finding Jesus himself. The disciples believed enough to try. All of this would have shown already a tremendous amount of faith. But it appears, not quite enough.

This prompts a couple of thoughts in my mind:

1. I can remember all too well the pain I felt when some well-meaning friends told me that I wasn’t healed from my particular health issues because I didn’t believe enough. They equated, as did I at the time, “healing” with “cure”. I believe, now, that healing can mean cure, but doesn’t necessarily have to. And I believe, too, that I have received quite a lot of healing in my life in the last few years, despite the fact that I’m certainly not cured.
2. We often suppose that someone’s early years as a Christian pilgrim are the most difficult, and that as we mature and grow in faith things will get easier. But the opposite often turns out to be the case. And just as we’re learning to walk alongside Jesus, we’re given harder tasks, demanding more courage and spiritual energy.

We will, throughout our Christian pilgrimage, experience challenges to our faith and beliefs. Through those challenges there is huge potential for growth. When they come our way, let us join in prayer with the father in this story, “I believe, help my unbelief!” Let us pray that our faith in God, and his Son Jesus Christ, will be deepened and encouraged to grow. And then let us take the next step on our own pilgrimages of faith.

Faithful Creator,
whose mercy never fails:
deepen our faithfulness to you
and to your living Word,
Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Additional Collect for The Second Sunday after Trinity
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

By the lakeside you renewed your call to your disciples

When I used to be somewhat fitter, a while ago now, I enjoyed walking. One of the places really liked going to was some flooded gravel pits near where I lived. I would find somewhere to sit and soak up the sunshine. And I would watch the water-birds going about their day. I couldn’t tell you what kind of birds they were, just that they were feathered creatures that lived in, or near, water.

I enjoy sitting by water of any kind, rivers, lakes, gravel pits, or the sea. For me, it’s a great way to become aware of the presence of God, through the beauty of his created world. I nearly took up fishing, just so I would have an excuse to sit by the water for hours at a time, absorbing the peace of God which passes all understanding.

But that isn’t how it would’ve been for the disciples when they met with Jesus by the lakeside after that first Easter (John 21:1-19). Jesus, their dear friend and leader, the person they had invested all their hopes in, was dead. They would’ve been devastated, and probably went fishing because they didn’t know what else to do.

They were heading back to shore after a fruitless night’s work, when they saw a man standing watching them. As in so many of the resurrection stories, they didn’t recognize him straight away. He encouraged them to do something a little differently, shift their position so to speak. Perhaps they thought he could see something from his vantage point that they couldn’t. But, whatever, they followed his advice, and caught a huge net-full of fish. It was then that they realized who it was on the beach.

And when they finally hauled their catch to shore, Jesus welcomed them with a warm fire and breakfast cooking. That must’ve been quite a welcome for those disciples, cold and wet as they were.

One of the things that I find amazing about this story is that Jesus didn’t really mention the huge catch of fish. Apart from a few fish to add to what was cooking on the fire for them all to eat, nothing is said about them. They were a gift, for the disciples to do with as they would — no pre-conditions, no strings, nothing.

After breakfast, after they’d been given the gift of a huge catch of fish, and after they’d eaten together, Jesus asked Peter, three times, if he loved him. And renewed Peter’s calling, and through him the rest of the disciples’, and our calling too. Theirs, and our, calling to love and care for our fellow human beings.

Maybe when we truly recognize, and act on, that calling, we might be able to bring others to warm themselves in the fire of Jesus’ love.

Risen Christ,
by the lakeside you renewed your call to your disciples:
help your Church to obey your command
and draw the nations to the fire of your love,
to the glory of God the Father. Amen.

Additional Collect for The Sixth Sunday of Easter
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council