What's a Miracle Made Of?

Miracles are not always what we expect.  I’m not sure that if we saw one miracle we wouldn’t want to see 50 more just to prove the first one wasn’t bogus.  Seems that as human beings we always want physical proof that we can see and touch.  Trouble is God is all about believing in what you can’t see and can’t touch.  That’s the essence of faith isn’t it – believing in what you cannot see and trusting that just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

When Jesus came to earth as a baby he wasn’t exactly the miracle people were looking for. They were expecting a mighty warrior king who would crush their Roman oppressors into nothingness.  Instead he taught love, kindness, caring, being there for people in their distress.  He wore commonly woven garments, not the armor of a warrior.  He told people to give to Caesar what was Caesar’s, he didn’t take up a sword and destroy every Roman tax collector.  Yet today, when we ask for a miracle, what we expect is to have our foe vanquished inside of 30 seconds with a flashy display of lightning and thunder as our foe falls to the ground utterly defeated. 

God’s plan doesn’t always work that way.  Sometimes there’s a round about road to arriving at our miracle. Sometimes we have to be broken before we see the miracle.  Sometimes the miracle arrives without a grand display of lights and sounds.  And sometimes the miracle is right in front of our face but we can’t see it because we choose not to see. We want what we want and if God doesn’t give it to us the way we expect, well, we just can’t see the forest for the trees.  We miss the miracle because we are so busy looking for the big and bold that we can’t fathom the small and delicate.

All around me people are dying – some from cancer, some from other ailments, some from accidents, some from old age.  Yet, I am still here.  Where’s the miracle in someone dying and my being left here?  I don’t know.  I’m not privy to God’s total plan.  Most of the time I’m not even sure what my part in his plan is, or if I will be smart enough to figure it out before it’s too late.  Lately I’ve begun to wonder if I’m more of a hindrance than a help to those around me.  Yet, I trust in God’s plan and hope I’ll know when he needs me to do something for him, even if my part is so small as to be tinier than a nano-second.

  God has certainly blessed me.  I had another colonoscopy done and no cancer was found, not even a hint of it.  He thought he saw cancer but when he did the biopsy, there was none.  I had another CT scan done and it turned out fine.  No worries.  Everything looks good – so good that I’ve been relegated to the “we’ll see you in six months” rotation as far as the Big C is concerned.  I did find out my gall bladder is packed with stones, though I’ve not had any issues because of it, and I have a hiatal hernia, which explains the acid reflux.

Still, I feel badly that while I’m getting all this good news, someone else loses a family member.  Just yesterday another co-worker passed away because of the Big C.  He found out about his cancer about the same time I found out about my tumor.  We’ve both walked through chemotherapy.  I’m not sure if he had radiation therapy or not, he never did say.  But a year later he finds out his has spread and there’s nothing more they can do; I refuse further chemo and all my reports look good.  Right now I can’t say that I see the good in God’s plan but I know for a certainty that he always works things out for the good.

So, what’s a miracle made of?  Things I don’t expect.  Like being allowed another day to work in God’s Kingdom.  Like seeing purple flowers blooming everywhere that I never planted. Like finding the opportunity to bless someone else, or to comfort them in a time of distress. Like being given another chance to do something for God instead of always expecting him to do things for me. 

I really am just like a child sometimes, always demanding things from my Father God without really expecting to have to do anything or give anything.  Like so many others I want a reward for having done nothing.  I behave badly sometimes, running around trying to look important when the truth is that it’s not about me at all.  God said to bring all my cares to him but he didn’t say I should pick them back up and try to make it all work out as if I were him.  Here, God, let me help you make this work out right for me …

Do we also expect the church to do things for us and then get disappointed when things don’t work out the way we think they should?  Probably.  Churches are made up of people, who often disappoint one another.  I know I have failed people, sometimes without knowing I have.  Communication seems to be an issue, even in this day of technological wonders like droids and podcasts.  Like Paul, I want to do right but somehow I end up doing the most wrong thing there could be.

Somehow a few people I know have equated people failing them with God failing them, and they have totally given up on not only the church but on Christianity and God himself.  Why bother walking the straight path when it gets you nothing but suffering?  I didn’t get my big-time miracle so now I’m going to blame God for every bad thing that happens in my life.  That’s the attitude I’ve seen reflected.  Since God’s not going to do anything for me, I’m not doing anything for him!

How quickly we forget.  God did do something for us.  He sent his only Son, perfect and sinless, into a sinful world to suffer and die for our sins.  He sent Jesus to teach us how to live, and how to die.  He sent Jesus to remind us that he loves us, and to give us a way to approach the Father by his sacrifice.  Jesus did not go to the cross because he was obliged to do so; he went because he chose to.  How many of us would choose death on a cross to save those around us – not just our friends and family but everyone, including those we look down on every day. For all that we boast we would, I’m afraid the number who would actually do so would be very small. For the most part, sacrifice is not a concept we humans identify with.

Not that I don’t want to help folks, it’s just that I sometimes question my motives.  Am I really giving all I can give, or just that part I can live without?  Am I really giving what I need to give, or just the thing that isn’t going to cost me very much?  It’s easy to write a small check for a local food network, not so easy to volunteer to go down and work with the people who come into the food bank. 

We glibly say we’ll pray for people and then get so busily entrapped with life that we don’t bother except as a one-liner at midnight. I can just hear myself, “Oh, yeah, God, I said I’d pray for so-and-so, would you mind taking care of that for me? Gee, thanks.” When I agree to be the clerk for the church, do I really mean that, or do I just like the title because it makes me appear important?

Peter kept asking Jesus what he wanted him to do.  Jesus’ answer was, feed my sheep.  Not a particularly glamorous job, feeding sheep. No neon lights, no newspaper bylines, no videos on You Tube.  Maybe the miracle would be that we all start behaving in the manner true Christians are supposed to, doing the things Jesus commanded us to do out of love not obligation, and because we are grateful for what was done for us by a God who loved us enough to give everything he had.