Down From the Mountain Text: Luke 9:37-43
Introduction: From Glory to Grit
The Christian life is a constant rhythm of mountain tops and valleys. Just before our text, Peter, James, and John were with the Lord on the Mount of Transfiguration. They saw His glory, unshielded. They saw Moses and Elijah, the Law and the Prophets, testifying to Him. They heard the very voice of God the Father thunder from Heaven, "This is My beloved Son. Hear Him!" It was a glimpse of ultimate reality, a peek into the glories of the New Jerusalem. But you cannot live on the mountain top. The purpose of the mountain top is to strengthen you for the battle in the valley. And what a valley they came down to.
They descended from this pinnacle of divine glory into a scene of utter chaos, human desperation, and demonic filth. It is a jarring transition, but it is a necessary one. We are not called to be spiritual tourists, collecting experiences. We are called to be soldiers. The glory of Christ is not given to us for our private enjoyment, but to equip us for the spiritual warfare that rages all around us. The world at the bottom of the mountain is a world wracked by sin, tormented by demons, and crippled by unbelief. It is a world that desperately needs the authority and power of the transfigured Christ.
This scene is a microcosm of the entire gospel. We have a desperate father, a tormented son, impotent disciples, a hostile spiritual force, and the solitary, all-sufficient power of Jesus Christ. At the foot of the mountain of God's glory, we find the failure of man and the majesty of God. The disciples, who had been given authority to cast out demons, are failing publicly. Their failure is not due to a lack of delegated authority, but a lack of faith. And Jesus' response is not one of gentle encouragement, but of sharp, cutting rebuke. He is not just dealing with a medical case; He is confronting a spiritual rebellion that infects the entire generation. This is not just a healing; it is an invasion. It is the kingdom of God crashing into the kingdom of darkness, and there is only ever one winner in that contest.
The Text
Now it happened on the next day, that when they came down from the mountain, a large crowd met Him. And behold, a man from the crowd shouted, saying, “Teacher, I beg You to look at my son, for he is my only one, and behold, a spirit seizes him, and he suddenly screams, and it throws him into a convulsion with foaming at the mouth, and only with difficulty does it leave him, mauling him as it leaves. And I begged Your disciples to cast it out, and they could not.” And Jesus answered and said, “You unbelieving and perverse generation, how long shall I be with you and put up with you? Bring your son here.” Now while he was still approaching, the demon slammed him to the ground and threw him into a convulsion. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit and healed the boy and gave him back to his father. And they were all astonished at the majesty of God.
(Luke 9:37-43 LSB)
A Father's Desperation (vv. 37-39)
The scene opens with the stark contrast between the heavenly glory of the mountain and the earthly misery of the crowd.
"Now it happened on the next day, that when they came down from the mountain, a large crowd met Him. And behold, a man from the crowd shouted, saying, 'Teacher, I beg You to look at my son, for he is my only one, and behold, a spirit seizes him, and he suddenly screams, and it throws him into a convulsion with foaming at the mouth, and only with difficulty does it leave him, mauling him as it leaves.'" (Luke 9:37-39 LSB)
A man cries out from the crowd. Notice the raw desperation in his voice. This is not a theological inquiry; it is a scream for help. He addresses Jesus as "Teacher," a term of respect, but his plea is that of a subject to a king. He begs Jesus to "look at" his son. This is a cry for divine attention, for the gaze of the Creator to fall upon his broken creature.
The father's pain is compounded by the fact that this is his "only one." This detail is meant to wrench our hearts. In that culture, a son was everything, the continuation of the family line, the hope for the future. This boy represents the death of this man's future. And the cause is not a simple disease. The father correctly identifies the source of the affliction: "a spirit seizes him."
We must be clear here. Our sophisticated, secular age wants to explain away the demonic. We want to psychologize it, medicalize it, and reduce it to epilepsy or some other neurological disorder. While demons can certainly afflict the body, the Bible is clear that we are dealing with a hostile, personal, spiritual intelligence. This is not a chemical imbalance; this is a spiritual assault. The description is terrifyingly violent. The spirit "seizes him," "throws him into a convulsion," "mauls him." The Greek word for "mauling" means to crush or shatter. This is not a random sickness; it is a malicious, personal attack designed to destroy a boy made in the image of God.
The enemy is real. Satan and his underlings are not cartoon characters with pitchforks. They are spiritual terrorists, and their hatred for God is expressed in their hatred for man, who bears God's image. This father understood the spiritual nature of the battle in a way that many modern Christians, embarrassed by the supernatural, do not.
The Disciples' Failure (v. 40)
The father's desperation is deepened by a profound disappointment. He had sought help from the proper channels, and they had failed.
"And I begged Your disciples to cast it out, and they could not." (Luke 9:40 LSB)
This is a public relations disaster for the kingdom. Earlier in this very chapter, Luke tells us that Jesus had given the twelve "power and authority over all the demons and to heal diseases" (Luke 9:1). They had been sent out and had been successful. So what went wrong here? Why did the power suddenly short-circuit?
The problem was not with the authority Jesus had given them. The problem was with the conduit through which that authority was supposed to flow. The disciples were attempting to do the work of God without relying on the God of the work. Perhaps they were puffed up by their previous successes. Perhaps they had begun to see the power as something they possessed, a technique they had mastered. Perhaps they were distracted by the theological arguments they were having with the scribes, as Mark's account tells us. Whatever the case, their faith had failed. They were like a man trying to turn on a lamp that wasn't plugged in. The failure was not in the power source, but in the connection.
This is a permanent warning for the church. We can have the right doctrine, the right commission, and the right tools, but if we are not operating in moment-by-moment, dependent faith on the living Christ, we are utterly powerless. We will be just as helpless in the face of the demonic as these disciples were. Our programs, our strategies, and our budgets are nothing if the connection of faith is broken.
A Rebuke for a Generation (v. 41)
Jesus' response is not directed solely at the disciples, but at the entire spiritual atmosphere at the foot of the mountain.
"And Jesus answered and said, 'You unbelieving and perverse generation, how long shall I be with you and put up with you? Bring your son here.'" (Luke 9:41 LSB)
This is one of the sharpest rebukes to fall from the lips of Jesus. "Unbelieving and perverse." The word for "perverse" means twisted, distorted, turned away from the standard. This generation had taken the things of God and twisted them. They had the Scriptures, the covenants, the temple, but they were spiritually crooked. Their unbelief was not a passive lack of information; it was an active, stubborn refusal to see the truth standing right in front of them.
Jesus' words, "how long shall I be with you and put up with you?" reveal the deep grief of God over the sin of His people. It echoes God's lament over Israel in the wilderness. This is the cry of a loving, patient God whose patience is about to run out. He is on His way to the cross, and the very people He came to save are mired in a faithless stupor. This unbelief was present in the crowds who came for a spectacle, in the scribes who came for an argument, and even in the disciples who had forgotten the source of their power.
But in the midst of this blistering rebuke, there is a command of grace: "Bring your son here." Jesus does not turn away in disgust. He turns toward the problem. He is the only one who can fix this. He is the solution to the unbelief and perversity that He has just condemned. He rebukes the sin, but He receives the sinner. He confronts the generation, but He comforts the father.
Sovereign Power and Complete Restoration (vv. 42-43)
The climax of the story is a dramatic confrontation and a glorious deliverance.
"Now while he was still approaching, the demon slammed him to the ground and threw him into a convulsion. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit and healed the boy and gave him back to his father. And they were all astonished at the majesty of God." (Luke 9:42-43 LSB)
The demon knows its time is short. As the boy approaches the presence of the holy Son of God, the demon makes one last, violent display of its power. It "slammed him to the ground." This is the impotent rage of a defeated foe. The devil and his minions know who Jesus is, and they tremble. This final, desperate act of violence is not a sign of strength, but of terror. It is the last thrashing of a snake whose head is about to be crushed.
And then, with sovereign simplicity, the battle is over. "But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit." Notice the economy of it. He doesn't wrestle with it. He doesn't negotiate. He doesn't perform some elaborate ritual. He speaks a word of rebuke. The same creative power that said "Let there be light" now says "Get out." His word is performative. Reality conforms to His command. The disciples had failed because they had forgotten that the power was in His word, not in their technique.
The result is total restoration. Jesus "healed the boy and gave him back to his father." This is not just an exorcism; it is a re-creation. The damage done by the demon is undone. The relationship broken by this spiritual violence is restored. Jesus doesn't just solve the spiritual problem; He puts the entire situation back together. He hands the boy, whole and sound, back to his father. This is what Christ does. He doesn't just forgive our sin; He restores us to the Father.
The crowd's reaction is telling. "And they were all astonished at the majesty of God." They saw past the Teacher, past the healer, and for a moment, they saw God. They saw a power that does not belong to man. They saw the raw, untamed, sovereign power of the Creator breaking into their broken world. This is the proper response to the work of Christ. Not just amazement at the miracle, but astonishment at the majesty of the God who performs it.
The Unbelief at the Bottom of Your Mountain
This story is not just about them, then. It is about us, now. We all live at the foot of the mountain. We are surrounded by a world that is convulsing, mauled, and tormented by the powers of darkness. We see it in our politics, in our culture, in our families, and if we are honest, we see the battle raging in our own hearts.
And like the disciples, the modern church is often found powerless. We have our programs, our seminaries, our books, and our conferences, but we often stand helpless before a world that is demon-possessed. And the reason for our failure is the same as the disciples' failure. It is unbelief. We have become a perverse generation, twisting the gospel into a self-help program, a political agenda, or a therapeutic message. We have tried to fight spiritual battles with carnal weapons. We have forgotten that the power is not in us. It is not in our methods. The power is in the person and word of Jesus Christ.
The father in this story shows us the beginning of the way out. He came with a desperate, honest plea. He knew he was helpless. He knew his son was helpless. And he knew the disciples were helpless. His only hope was Jesus. The beginning of faith is the honest confession of our powerlessness.
And Jesus' response is the same to us as it was to that generation. He rebukes our unbelief, our self-reliance, our twisted priorities. And then He says, "Bring your problem to Me." Bring your tormented child here. Bring your broken marriage here. Bring your besetting sin here. Bring your faithless church here. He does not turn us away. He rebukes, and then He receives.
The power that cast out that demon is the same power that raised Jesus from the dead. It is the same power that is at work in us who believe. The victory has already been won at the cross. The head of the serpent has been crushed. Our task is not to win the war, but to believe the report of the victory and to enforce the terms of the surrender in the name of our victorious King. When we do, we too will stand astonished, not at our own strength, but at the majesty of God.