5 Ways Desperate Circumstances Can Grow Our Faith

In fact, without desperation, there may be no genuine faith. 

Let me explain.

Think of the claims the Gospel makes on our lives.

It calls us for total surrender to God, a complete reorientation of our minds, a reordering of priorities, sacrifice…I could go on.  

Who does this? Who responds with this kind of faith? 

Only the desperate.

The catalyst, for many, is coming to terms with a Christless eternity. You might call it a fear of death or a fear of hell. That’s desperation. 

Let’s be clear, though. If you receive Christ to avoid hell, and it doesn’t result in a life of growing in surrender, a new orientation, reordering priorities, and sacrifice, it’s not genuine, saving faith. 

But the fear of a Christless eternity is often the catalyst that propels us into a life of growing intimacy with God and discipleship.

Another catalyst is coming to an end of ourselves in a myriad of ways. Money, power, sex, drugs, or partying are just not cutting it for us anymore. 

Desperation, again. 

But what about the person who receives Christ early in life and is seeking to walk with him daily from a young age? It may be the exception, but something might be wrong if peering into their own souls in light of God’s love they don’t experience an existential crisis from time to time. 

Okay, so that’s what I mean when I say that without desperation there may be no genuine faith. 

And desperation or desperate circumstances can accelerate spiritual growth.

We’ll look at five ways this is so this weekend as we explore a passage in Mark’s gospel. 

Two desperate people in desperate circumstances will teach us a lot about faith. 

Think about a family member or friend that might need to hear this and invite them. You never know. They might actually come. 

Photo by Dmitry Ratushny on Unsplash

If Jesus is able to deliver us from all evil, then why doesn’t he just do it?”

A friend and I recently were talking about a conversation he had with someone who asked why God wasn’t healing a mutual friend of theirs. Their mutual friend was in the last stages before dying and suffering a lot. He was leaving a family with young kids behind.

So this other guy explained to my friend that his father had died when he was in his teens. He had been angry at God ever since. And he asked my friend, "Why? Why doesn’t God intervene?"

So my friend said he was at a loss. He says to me, “I didn’t know what to say. All I said was, 'I don’t know the mind of God. I do know God loves him. And if God doesn’t heal him, he has a good reason.’”

I was like, “Actually that’s perfect. No more or no less. Perfect.” 

When someone who is deeply grieving asks “Why?” they’re not looking for a deep theological or philosophical answer. 

Our answer needs to be simple, if we offer one at all. Most of the time I just nod my head. But I really like my friends answer. I’m going to memorize it. 

My friend’s answer focused on God’s love without discarding his sovereignty. 

In this weekend’s passage, we see that Jesus has the power to deliver us from all evil and suffering. But it also explains, in part, why he doesn’t just do it. 

I hope to see you this weekend. Maybe you have a friend who has been asking you this question. Maybe you can send the link after the weekend or invite them to join us for worship.

Photo by Cristian Newman on Unsplash