Friends, today I continue my series on miracles. But before I venture into that subject, first I would like to briefly restate the point that I made last week in my reflection, “Miracles are not biblical”.
As I said, I am aware that title could be provocative. It could be read as saying, “It isn’t biblical to believe that God is at work in the world.” But that was not my point.
What is unbiblical is our modern definition of miracle, which assumes that we live in two worlds. One that is natural and is governed by the laws of nature. The other is supernatural and governed by God. What is also unbiblical is the notion that when something miraculous happens, it is because God interferes with creation, like a bolt from the blue.
Relying on John’s Gospel, I argued that this is not how Scripture sees the world at all. There is only one world, and it is the product of the mind of God, or what John calls the Word or Logos. And God is at work in his creation, all the time, — in both what we mistakenly describe as natural and in what we describe as supernatural. It is all God’s work, all the time.
I told the story of my friend, Steve, who struggled with cancer and seemed to be trapped between the two worlds of our modern understanding to underline the fact that this unbiblical way of thinking often shapes the way that we experience life’s difficult places – including illness, tragedy, or loss.
Far too many Christians believe in this unbiblical, two world reality. And, as a result, they conclude that unless God intervenes and breaks the rules, they are alone – or they are struggling because they have done something to deserve their suffering.
You may not think that way and if you don’t, great. You might want to ask yourself whether you are genuinely grateful for the daily blessings of this life, which are all the gift of God’s grace. But there are many people who do think this way – including a lot of Christians – and my prayer is that you won’t live there, suspended between two worlds, hoping for a God of the gaps to show up, rather than the God who is and who is present to you all the time.
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Now, knowing that Scripture portrays God as both the source and the sustainer of creation and not a cosmic puppeteer who shows up from time to time to help some and not others, what are the biblical words that Scripture does use for miracles?
Sticking with the Gospels, there are three, semeia or a sign; dunamis, or acts of power; and teras, an occasion for wonder. Now, when I was in seminary and taking koine Greek, we were required to do what are called word studies and while I didn’t work on any of these three words, my work on any word from Greek usually covered roughly 35 typewritten pages. We can’t do that here. (And the people said, “AMEN”)
So what I would like to do instead, is try to acquaint you with the way in which these three words heard and used in the Gospel tradition:
The first thing to note is this: None of these events, whatever the word used, is seen as a proof of God’s existence or as a God-sighting in an otherwise material universe. Jesus and the people around him, including the people who were opposed to his message, assumed that God was present in the world. They would have never assumed – as we so often do – that we live in a world where – even if there is a god – all he does is wind it up and leave us on our own to do what we can to make it better. (John Lennon’s hit tune, “Imagine”, in which he talks about a world with no god is totally alien to Jesus and his world.)
The second thing to note, is that none of the acts of Jesus are rewards for doing good or for being good. There are places in the Gospels where Jesus cannot do signs, acts of power, or works that cause wonder. But this is because people refuse to be open to them, not because they have done something to deserve them. And the people at the center of these Gospel stories are not people who are ill or in pain because they did something wrong. To put it another way: What we call miracles are not a part of a rewards and punishment system.
The third thing to note is that Jesus was not all about signs, power, and wonder. It wasn’t even the most important thing about his life and ministry. He didn’t heal everyone. He didn’t systematically search for every person in crisis. And, in fact, as Mark’s Gospel records, after spending a long day healing people, he went off to pray, and came back, announcing “this is not why I am here” – leaving behind people who, presumably, were still waiting to see him.
What Jesus did care about was announcing the coming of the Kingdom of God, his role in bringing that Kingdom into the world, and God’s victory over the power of sin and death which enslaves humankind and the whole of creation. Signs, power, and wonder, then, are always windows into that message. They are not an end in themselves.
And when we read about the biblical “miracles”, we should not ask ourselves, “How can I get one of them for myself?” We should be asking, “What was Jesus trying to tell us about himself, the Kingdom of God, and the conquest of sin and death?”
One of the most telling stories in the whole of the Gospel tradition in this regard is the raising of Lazarus. Word is sent to Jesus, telling him that Lazarus is sick but Jesus delays going to see him. In fact, John clearly suggests that the delay is deliberate, that Jesus knows Lazarus will die. Jesus even observes, “This illness does not lead to death; rather, it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.”
Jesus underlines the same point on the road to Judea, when he tells the disciples, “Lazarus is dead. For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.” Again, when he asks Martha, if she believes that he is the Resurrection and the Life. And, yet again, in the prayer Jesus offers, thanking the Father that those standing around the tomb of Lazarus know that God has sent him.
The way in which the story unfolds may actually seem terribly callous. Jesus waits so long that Lazarus dies. He is at pains to explain that something larger than one man’s death or two women’s grief is at stake. The raising of Lazarus is not even a permanent solution, since – clearly – at some point in the future, Lazarus will die. And even Jesus does this all in the shadow of his own death on the cross.
But what this “sign” – as John describes it – underlines is the nature of God’s kingdom, the power of life over death that is already active in the world, and the singular place of Jesus in making that possible. It even foreshadows Jesus’ death – who is not resuscitated but resurrected. So, as intimate and detailed as the story is, this is not the story of one man’s need but the work of God in Christ for the sake of the world.
What does all this mean for our own lives as Christ’s followers?
One: The extraordinary, or what we call miracles happen. But they are not a bolt from the blue. They are part and parcel of the outworking of God’s love and grace in our world. A part of all that God – at creation – called not just good but very good.
Two: Our preoccupation with being delivered – as understandable as it may be – is, itself, misguided. Instead, whatever grace we may receive at God’s hand, we should remember that praying for signs, power, and wonder is not what we are called to do, and they are not an end in themselves. Whenever you hear someone treat the Gospel as if it were a bag of tricks for solving problems or becoming your best self – run, don’t walk in the other direction.
Three: Be open to signs, power, and signs. But don’t let your faith-journey deteriorate into a series of miracle stories, punctuated by long days of living without the presence of God or with the purpose his presence in your life should give you. God’s calling rests on all of us. All – the – time. In times of triumph, in times of loss, in times of strength and in times of weakness, at times when we feel that we are at the center of things and when we feel we are sidelined.
And four: Remember, ultimately, we are not called to be the consumers of miracles, we are called to be available to the work of God’s Kingdom and his Son, and that often – inescapably – involves a cross. And, if you have been the recipient of God’s grace in some exceptional way, you should be asking yourself what God wants you to do with that gift.
The great saints of the church – the people who distinguish themselves as courageous witnesses to the work of God in Christ – are not people who were the beneficiaries of endless miracles, they were people who knew the meaning of sacrifice.
If there is one thing at the heart of the mainline church’s decline in this country, it is our failure to grasp this fact. For far too many Christians think of the church as one charitable activity among many. A nice thing to do if we aren’t so busy with things that really matter. A way of giving our children a few values to go with lives that are really governed finally by the priority of getting a good education, a job, and retirement. In short, as I heard one man put it years ago, “The nice thing about being an Episcopalian is that you don’t have to take being a Christian very seriously.” (It was one of those rare occasions when I wanted to give someone a “holy smack” in the mouth.)
What Jesus did by way of signs, power, and wonder were devoted to a message that defines everything else we do. An urgent sign that God has acted, and that the world must choose. And any church that soft-pedals that challenge, in favor of being comfortably at home in the world is not a church worth the name, the Body of Christ. Let us be people who are alert to God’s signs, wonders and acts of power, but let us be people who empowered by those experiences to live as disciples called to walk alongside him.
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