Wondering about the word ‘Believe’

This is a meditation which I wrote for the February  8^th edition of St. Philip’s Daily Bread (a meditation blog you can sign up for here https://stphilipstucson.org/community/daily-bread/.) As I wondered about the word ‘believe’, I recalled someone who reacted to a popular science fiction novel by saying incredulously, “This could never happen! I can’t believe any of this.”

Of course, that’s one point of sci-fi, isn’t it? It stretches belief, inviting us to trust what we aren’t in control of, promoting a relationship with another reality which surpasses our egos’ grasp, at least while reading.

If science fiction had been a genre in Jesus’ time, I wonder if some of his parables would have begun with: An astronaut once found herself on a foreign planet…

Maybe I’ll attempt a rewrite of some of Christ’s stories in another world setting. I wonder what that would look like.

Here’s what I wrote for the Daily Bread:

I often wonder about a word when I read a Biblical passage. The word which caught my attention in today’s gospel reading (Mark 9:14-29) is ‘believe’. Three variations appear in just two sentences. The context is a father begging Jesus to heal his son. Jesus tells him: “All things can be done for the one who believes. Immediately the father of the child cried out, “I believe; help my unbelief!”

I believe; help my unbelief. That’s a bit of a puzzle. How can one believe and not believe at the same time? Initially, it seems a problem with quantity–if only the father had more belief, the son would be healed. But Jesus doesn’t criticize him for doubting or wait for him to somehow increase his belief. He heals the child right then and there.

I suspect ‘belief’ here points to a deeper meaning. In our society, belief often signifies knowing the truth. For instance, if you tried to convince me you didn’t steal my bike, and I understood you didn’t take it, I’d say, “I believe you.” It’s simply assent to a fact.

But ‘belief’ has layers of meaning. The original Greek ‘pisteou’ comes from a root word denoting trust and faith. The etymology of the translation ‘belief’ also implies trust, deepened by love. I wonder–instead of requiring assent to the fact of his power, was Jesus encouraging this father to trust him? Trusting relationships take time to mature. Belief is real in the moment of opening up to another but deepens as one gets to know the beloved more and more.

This miracle may teach more about God’s belief in us than our ability to believe in Jesus. Notice: before this father comprehends who Jesus is, desperation compels him to open his heart, even while admitting his own limits. God in Christ meets vulnerability and honesty with complete love and commitment. Without demanding endorsement, healing occurs.

Desperation often cracks us open to the possibility of relationship with God, doesn’t it? When we don’t understand ourselves, what to do, or even what is possible, Christ invites our belief. I wonder–is it possible to accept God’s healing power until we stop trying to encompass it with our minds and instead trust God with our hearts?  We can believe…even if we have doubts…knowing that in Christ, God has already assented to us in love.