Help My Unbelief: A Tribute to Michael

I don't go to a lot of funerals, I just haven't known that many people at this point in my life who have passed.  So, I don't know if it's standard practice, but when we went to my cousin Michael's funeral, the preacher PREACHED. And it was a really really good message.  I still pray that someone in that crowd was touched. Seeds were definitely planted, and if there's something to be gained from death, another soul for Christ is the biggest gain you could pray for.

It's probably hard to decide what to preach about at a funeral, but he preached about having questions and brought up a verse I hadn't heard before and started the domino effect that lead to this post.  I've been formulating it in my head for a while, but a recent interaction on Facebook pushed me to go ahead and get pen to paper (or technically finger tips to keyboard) to make sense of the stuff going around in my head.

Help My Unbelief.
The scripture was Mark 9:24
Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”

Help my unbelief.  How often is THAT exactly what we need to pray? We believe. But, being logical human beings, it's so natural to question, to be sure you have things already figured out, to not understand, to just WANT to figure things out and have them make sense in your head.

We will never be perfect, we will always have questions.  And it's healthy, as a believer, to ask these questions.  Because unbelievers have all the questions we have, plus so many more.  And it's not our responsibility, as witnesses to ANSWER all the questions, or have any idea on HOW to answer the questions, but it's important to show that we believe in the face of the questions, that we acknowledge those questions, and that what we CAN do is pray about the questions and help find answers to the ones that matter.

Because some don't matter.
Dinosaurs? Doesn't matter.
The missing link? Doesn't matter.
Why we drive on parkways and park on driveways? Doesn't matter.

These questions are often useful to distract from a greater truth, the only Truth.  Because the fact of faith is that faith is believing EVEN IF all signs point to something else.  That's the beauty of faith and having a heart centered on Christ.

When those questions come up in your conversations with unbelievers, it's important not to gloss over, but point back to faith, and to point to prayer and helping them discover why the questions are affecting their walk with Christ and their decision to believe or not.  The questions may not be important to you, but may have a significance to them.

And you can always point back to this verse.  A man, in the VERY FACE of JESUS, who was performing a miracle on his son, STILL had unbelief.  How easy it must be to have unbelief in today's time, when we don't have Jesus in our midst, performing miracles, walking on water, and turning water into wine (can I get an amen on that on a Friday night?)...

Mustard Seed Faith.
The questions can feel debilitating.  They can make us believe that the whole system is broke, our whole belief is invalid, just because we have a question or two or 3904.  Well. There's good news on that front.

From Matthew 17:20 -
"Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."

I have a feeling that if Jesus had had this conversation today, he may have used an even smaller item to compare "small" faith to. Maybe an atom? Or a part of an atom? (I guess those are the smallest things I'm aware of.)

That's good news. Really good news. Especially in the face of questions.  It's just another way Jesus reassures us that it's OKAY to have questions.  You can move an entire mountain, if God wants you moving that mountain, with faith the size of a mustard seed.  As adults, it's SO hard to have that childlike faith.  I can remember waking my parents in the middle of the night asking them why Jesus didn't put a baby unicorn under my pillow, because I was praying for it really hard. (I'm having the realization at this very moment that I'm probably about to get a very similar question from my precocious threenager very soon...) I whole-heartedly believed I was getting that unicorn.

In the FIRE.
So let's take one more look at faith.  First of all, I'd like to share this song:

It absolutely speaks volumes about our faith and the fact that sometimes we pray for things, and the answer is just "no." And it alludes to one of my very favorite Bible stories.

In Daniel 3, we hear about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Apart from having really awesome names, they also have a really awesome story.  There were, quite literally, put to the flame.  Much like Daniel in the lion's den, their faith was tested, and the heat was on. (That's two fire puns so far, for those keeping track.)  They were tested.  They were mocked, and told to call on their God to save them from the flames.  And their response?

"If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand.  But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up."

 They knew that it might not be God's will for them to survive.  They were able to boldly uphold their own beliefs, follow in faith, and trust that God had a plan for them.  Because sometimes God doesn't want the mountain moved.  It's not to us to determine what's His timing.

What's this got to do with Michael?

Sometimes we have questions that don't necessarily lie on the stories from the Bible, but from a circumstance in our own lives. 

Why me? Why that? Why now? Why not someone else?

Faith in the fire doesn't have to be literal fire.  It's trusting that God's will is DONE, no matter how painful it is, and how painful it will continue to be.  Losing someone hurts.  And I only use that word because I can't think of a stronger word or a more accurate word for the feeling. 

There's a void.  There's an emptiness.  There's regret.  There are questions.  There are tears.  There are moments of extreme pain.  There's quiet solitude.  There's screaming in protest.  There's denial.  

There are questions.

We won't know the answers.  They are not for us to know.  But we will also never know the full impact. Someone like Michael fit more life into one moment than most people fit into a year.  He touched more people than we probably even know about.  Around the world, people grieve over his passing and wonder why him? why that? why now?

But ya'll.  At the funeral.  That preacher PREACHED.  And I don't know specifics, but I know someone heard. Someone's heart is changing.  And someone is accepting their Savior because they knew Michael, and loved him enough to be at his funeral, and heard the call of Jesus.