The Man Without the Miracle
Week of Monday, December 17, 2001
Third Sunday in Advent (2001)
Lectionary Readings
Isaiah 35:1–10
James 5:7–10
Matthew 11:2–11
Psalm 146:4–9
Let me begin this week by admitting that I stole the title for
this essay from a pastor friend in Michigan, also named Dan, who used it
when he preached on this week's Gospel text about John the Baptist
(Matthew 11:2–11). His title points to an important lesson about waiting
for the Coming One to come.
John the Baptist, that wild, desert prophet, was languishing in
prison. Is that so surprising? Not long after, he was beheaded at the whim
of Herod the tetrarch, who at a dinner party one night capitulated to the
sadistic demand of his girlfriend's daughter. John was a forerunner of
Jesus, but he was also a forth-teller to Herod, having rebuked Herod for
sleeping with his brother's wife (Matthew 14:1–12). But as with most
perverse, political powerbrokers, Herod had his way with him who had
spoken truth to power, so John was murdered.
His own disciples had told him about Jesus, so from prison John
sent two of His disciples to Jesus with a question that cuts to the heart
of the Advent season: “Are you the one who was to come, or should we
expect someone else?” Jesus responded by saying, in essence, “yes, I am
the Coming One and my many miracles attest to this. The blind, the lame,
the deaf, and the lepers are healed; the dead are raised, and the Good
News is preached to the poor.” But then Jesus said something enigmatic
to John: “Blessed is he who does not take offense at me.”
I never understood this text (Matthew 11:6) until my pastor-friend
suggested an interpretation. John, remember, was told about the many
miracles Jesus was doing, but in his own life he himself would decidedly
not receive a miracle. Herod would behead him because of a dinner party
dare. John was the man without the miracle, and blessed is he who is not
scandalized or offended by this brutal reality.
If you read the lectionary texts for this week carefully, they
provide a remarkable litany of the marginal, the vulnerable, and the
disenfranchised. From Isaiah, Matthew and Psalm 146 there are
seventeen (!) categories of people listed who suffer deeply.
| the oppressed | the feeble |
| the hungry | those with fearful hearts |
| the prisoners | the deaf |
| the blind | the lame |
| the bowed down | the dumb |
| the stranger or alien | the leper |
| the fatherless | the dead |
| the widow | the exhausted |
| the poor | |
What we have here is a summary of almost every type of human
suffering—social, political, economic, psychological, cultural, ethnic,
medical, and so on. These are people who cry out for miracles. But life
tells us, in fact, that most of them will not receive one.
Our own human experience is much like John the Baptist's. Much as
we hear about miracles, signs, and wonders, much as we long for them and
pray for them, most of us do not receive them. To us as to John the
Baptist and the many sufferers as those listed above, Jesus says, “blessed
are you who follow me even though you have not received a miracle.”
The Scriptures record numerous instances where people in God's
kingdom did not receive a miracle. John the Baptist is not an exception
but perhaps the rule. Think about just these two data points. In
Hebrews 11
the author refers to a long line of saints who were commended for
heroic faith but who did not experience miraculous intervention. Rather,
their lot was torture, jeers, flogging, chains, prison, stoning and being
sawn in two (Hebrews 11:35–40). Or again, in one and the same chapter,
James was imprisoned and martyred (Acts 12:1–2), whereas his cohort Peter
was imprisoned but received a miraculous release (Acts 12:3–19). So one
key reminder for us is that mature faith does not necessarily lead to
miracles or even seek them.
The converse is likewise true; miracles do not necessarily lead to
mature faith. In the very same chapter as the discourse on John the
Baptist, we see that the people and places where Jesus had done his most
miracles demonstrated the least faith (Matthew 11:20–24). Often times
genuine miracles do little to strengthen faith. Perhaps they are only
cause for further doubt, curiosity and credulity. At other times the
demand for a miracle is a clear sign of unbelief and doubt.
In our therapeutic culture which places a high value on
entitlement, we do well to remember that following Jesus is something very
different than personal fulfillment. Whether we are weak or strong in
faith, both Scripture and experience tell us that it is quite likely that
we, like John the Baptist, will live without miraculous intervention. But
this should not make us stumble or take offense. Why? Jerry Camery-Hoggatt
put it perfectly in describing his own father: “He measured his life
against a yardstick larger than his own vested interests, and charted his
course by a compass outside himself.”1 Our yardstick is
life in the kingdom of God, not the amelioration of every trial or
temptation I've ever had. Our compass is Jesus Himself, the Suffering
Servant.
The fourth text from this week's lectionary thus encourages us to
“be patient until the Lord's coming.” Remember the farmer who waits for
fall and spring rains, who waits for his land to yield its crops. As an
example of “patience in the face of suffering”, says James, remember the
perseverance of the prophets and suffering saints like Job (James 5:7–12).
Waiting with patience and perseverance, of course, is the very sum and
substance of Advent, the season now upon us.
-
Jerry Camery-Hoggatt, When Mother Was
Eleven-Foot-Four (Grand Rapids: Revell, 2001), p. 16.
The Journey with Jesus: Notes to Myself
Copyright ©2001 by Dan Clendenin. All Rights Reserved.
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