There’s a question Jesus asks a blind man in the book of Mark that I am occasionally a little jealous of.
“What do you want me to do for you?”
I picture the man there, not seeing the hairy legs he sits in front of. Knowing what Jesus smells like, committing his voice to memory. Perhaps the man reaches out a hand, adding a fabric texture to his mental portrait.
“Rabbi, let me recover my sight.”
What would it be like, I’ve wondered, to have the opportunity to ask for your miracle?
I’ve mused over how I would answer. Because of course, we can ask for miracles. And they are often granted! (See 1 John 5:15.)
Though there are overarching answers–the “right” answers, maybe world peace or something–my answer often takes on the flavor of my season, the ache of my heart. For where your treasure is…
In the story, everyone else is basically telling the guy to put a sock in it. I like that “he cried out all the more, ‘Son of David, have mercy on me!'” I can’t help but think that his insistence helps land him the miracle.
But sometimes, it can be easier to identify with Lazarus, or the girl who died. We wait for him to call our name.
I’m spitballing here, but something tells me those two funerals weren’t Jesus’ first.
What about all those who didn’t get a miracle?
When God’s Control is Disconcerting
There’s an interesting verse in Hebrews: Now in putting everything in subjection to [Jesus], [God the Father] left nothing outside [Jesus’] control (2:8). Normally–when you are more of the blind man, so to speak–this verse is a strong tower. Nothing is outside of your control, God.
But there are times when we are waiting. Or maybe you’ve already received your answer, and it’s a no.
Nothing is outside of your control, God.
So why this?
The answer tends to leave us mulling over similar concepts to the prayer I whispered as a child: God is great. God is good.
Which one did I get wrong?
I have seen people drift away from both, listless after their miracle vaporized before their eyes.
Friends have drifted away from believing God is sovereign, because surely he would not [fill-in-the-blank]; it would not be good.
Other friends have edged more toward the protection of deism: It’s easier to believe in a God who is detached than in one who had control, but did not act.
Or maybe it was me! Maybe I didn’t have enough faith. (We might get that from Mark 6:5-6, or James 5:15). Or maybe, we wonder, this is because of some secret sin (from verses like 1 Corinthians 11:29-30…or just our own belief in justice).
I don’t think we should feel like failures [when we don’t see miracles like in the New Testament], because I don’t think that God has ordained that the same intensity and clustering of power for supernatural intervention was intended to be normative for the whole church.
….Paul says, “Take a little wine for your stomach, Timothy, because you’ve got this stomach problem,” instead of, “Bang! I’ve got enough faith, I’m healing Timothy!” Why?
And Paul himself suffered many kinds of things that weren’t miraculously healed. When he was lacerated on his back or stoned, they didn’t get over him and just pray and—bang!—all the scars and infection went away. He dealt with the same things we did.
But this is what I know.
- God said no to Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. And his no…was perfect. It also saved the lives (and so much more) of millions, possibly billions, throughout time.
- The Holy Spirit makes my prayers perfect: “For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God” (Romans 8:26-27).
- Jesus healed even when faith was incomplete or small. Faith is so powerful, even a mustard seed of it can move a mountain, right? “The father of the child cried out and said, ‘I believe; help my unbelief!’ And…Jesus…rebuked the unclean spirit” (Mark 9:24-25). (If you’re curious about why we don’t see as many miracles today, you might find this article helpful.)
I think of the man lowered through the roof by his friends (Luke 5:17-39). I found it fascinating that when the man asks for healing, Jesus first forgives his sins. It’s only later, to prove his authority to forgive sins, that Jesus causes him to walk.
Jesus died for more than just our lives to be Teflon.
Jesus died for more than just our lives to be Teflon. Share on XI don’t know the longed-for miracles twisting your gut this week. But I know the ones twisting mine. Some have found me sobbing.
I find odd comfort in Daniel, in that old Sunday School story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, just as they were about to be shoved into a furnace.
Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods. (Daniel 3:17-18)
Am I the only one who hears an echo of Job in there? The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Praise the name of the Lord!… Though he slay me, I will hope in him (Job 1:21, 13:15).
Like this post? You might like
- “Is it okay for me to hope in something other than God?
- FREE PRINTABLE INFOGRAPHIC: On Unanswered Prayer–and 5 Memos to Myself When God Says “No”
- When God Isn’t Who You Thought He Was: On Spiritual Bewilderment and Anger
- When I don’t get God
- Cry: On the Hidden Art of Christian Lament
- On Keeping Your Heart Soft When Times are Tough
- How Am I Supposed to Have Joy When My World’s a Wreck?
- 6 Lifelines for the Season When it Feels Like God’s Against You
4 Comments
phil - 6 years ago
It is hard to articulate how, but I agree that the Daniel and Job passages are comforting. Also John 6:66-68 – ‘From that moment many of his disciples turned back and no longer accompanied him. So Jesus said to the Twelve, “You don’t want to go away too, do you?” Simon Peter answered, “Lord, to whom will we go? You have the words of eternal life. ‘
Once you’ve wrestled with God like Jacob, and you get to the other side of a really tough thing, and you’ve walked with Him and done life with Him, you get to a point where you’ve experienced God, and you know in your heart, no matter the outcome, no matter the difficulty, God’s way is best. What better choice could there possibly be? Who else has the words of life? Although it seems difficult at the time, we know it is serving a purpose. We trust that God is good and that His goodness is beyond our measuring sticks here in this time/space. Even if God doesn’t deliver me, I will still trust him. God, even though you slay me, yet will I trust in you! Who else has the words of Life!!??
Janel - 6 years ago
Phil, I love this reference, and it is so timely for me today. And I like your reference that “His goodness is beyond our measuring sticks.” Tim Keller says it’s like a six-year-old questioning the math of a world-class physicist.
It’s an odd, yet accurate, experience of God’s goodness to see it as something beyond our own. It reminds me somehow of Erwin McManus’ paraphrased response of Jesus to John the Baptist: “The blind see, the lame walk, the dead are being raised, but you, John, you are going to die.” Someone reminded me this week that God said no to Jesus, too. So his perfect “no’s” place us in good company.
Thanks again for sharing your thoughts and heart on this, Phil.
phil - 6 years ago
Dear friend, Now knowing the rest of the story (http://www.agenerousgrace.com/2019/02/18/may-you-never-memos-cancer-scare/) I feel like one of Job’s friends spouting theology when they should have just shut up and ministered to Job. Truth delivered at the wrong time and in the wrong way is as comforting as cold concrete.
Fortunately, the maturity and authenticity of your well-worn faith, had the discernment to sift the wheat from the chaff. You took what you could use and discarded the rest. Thank you for being gracious in your response.
And thank you for showing us a picture of what a true faith, lived out, looks like. Just like courage doesn’t mean absence of fear and love doesn’t mean a constant butterfly in the tummy, faith doesn’t mean perfect confidence or emotionless acceptance of trouble. But you showed us a true picture of faith: a family clinging to the truths you knew as you faced the future you didn’t. Although you don’t feel like a super hero family, when you cling to God through tough trials, you really are heroes of the faith right along with our brothers and sisters in Hebrews 11.
May everyone who reads your words be inspired to have not a plastic perfect faith, but a faith as ragged and rich and real as yours.
Janel - 6 years ago
Phil, never fear–I really did (I hope!) hear your heart behind your words. In fact, more than once did your reference (“Who else has the words of life?!”) ring in my head as I have tried to make sense of this. I appreciate your humility! But know you encouraged me and continue to do so in a very confusing and painful season. It’s exposed my frailty of faith, so thank you for continuing to see God working through our weakness here. May he continue to make himself great in all this!!