I don’t know why… God didn’t stop the bullet that took the life of a seven-year-old girl in Chicago last weekend; God allowed for miraculous births in the same weekend in multiple hospitals around the world.
I don’t know why… Hundreds of people flocked to my hometown to defy social distancing measures and put others at risk of COVID-19 so they could drink and splash around in the shallows of a small lake. I don’t know why they left garbage and excrement in the lake and in people’s yards and in the high school parking lot. Thousands of men and women risked their lives to maintain order and serve the public–donning their uniforms and braving the heat and the chaos to serve people who despise them, spit on them, defame them, and vilify them.
I don’t know why… God made snakes. And mosquitoes. And moles. And giraffes.
I don’t know why… On some days God feels so distant and silent; and other times He seems to be surrounding me and permeating me and holding me tight. I don’t know how His word can sometimes feel stale and sometimes cut right through me. I can’t fathom how God can be everywhere—every-when! That He knew me before all the history books and ancient empires and cities and shipwrecks and wars and all the stories I take for granted were even imagined…that He knows me now– every thought; every cell; every hair, every breath…that He knows me a million years from now. I don’t know why He chose to make me, and preserve my life, and bless me with days and hours, with friends and family, and teachers and tasks, challenges and changes.
I don’t know why. I don’t know how.
But praise God, I know WHO. I know who made me. I know who holds me. I know who has the power to make good come from even the worst circumstances. I know who wins the ultimate victory over death and sin and disease and destruction.
And He walks with me and He talks with me—And He tells me I am His own!
I’m getting a double whammy this week–two Bible study groups; one studying Daniel and the other Job. Some of you will groan just reading the first sentence. Along with the book of Revelations, these are two of the most difficult and misunderstood books in the Bible. And for good reason. The book of Daniel doesn’t just contain the favorite stories of Daniel in the Lions’ Den and Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, it also contains prophetic visions that seem to foreshadow two distinct sets of events– one set that happened in the time between Daniel’s life and the birth of Christ, and another set of events yet to come.
The book of Job is puzzling– there are no good clues as to when it took place, or exactly where, or even if it is real or a parable. There is a curious interchange between God and Satan that is unlike any other passage in scripture. Finally, it is filled with difficult dialogues from Job and his friends, as they try to make sense of his suffering as God stays silent. When God finally speaks, He doesn’t directly answer Job’s questions or his friends’ misleading statements.
What happens when I don’t understand what God is doing (or seemingly NOT doing) in my life or the lives of others? What happens when the world doesn’t make sense, and the Bible doesn’t seem to shed any light? What happens when I pray, but God seems silent?
I think the answer has a lot to do with where I am in my relationship with Christ:
I can panic, lose faith, or become angry and insolent. If I don’t know God or don’t trust him; if I doubt his goodness or wisdom or power, I may run from his word and his presence.
I can lean on my own understanding. I can substitute my own limited wisdom for God’s, and try to “explain away” all the things I don’t quite understand. I may ignore the Bible passages I don’t understand, in favor of doubling down on the ones I think I know. I can insist on my own interpretations of difficult or disturbing passages, even if someone points out inconsistencies in my logic, or context clues that disagree with my view.
I can lean on someone else’s understanding, listening to their views without question or without reading and praying through it myself. If someone else has an answer, shouldn’t that be enough? Even if I still don’t fully understand, at least I have an answer…
I can ignore the question–after all, do I really need to know about God? Isn’t it enough that He exists and He is good? If I say it loud enough and often enough, won’t that make the questions go away?
It seems that there is a better way– God never promises us easy answers or complete answers to all the questions in this life. We can be angry or grateful for that truth, but most of all we must accept it. God will answer many of our questions–maybe not in the time and manner we expect. And some of them we won’t understand this side of heaven. But the Bible is clear in calling us to pursue answers, and be honest when we don’t understand. God may not give us a simple answer, but He promises to give us wisdom– wisdom to seek, and wisdom to wait; wisdom to trust, and wisdom to keep knocking.
Ask, Seek, Knock, Wrestle, Search, Pray, Plead, Study, and Learn.
22 And they came to Beth-sa′ida. And some people brought to him a blind man, and begged him to touch him. 23 And he took the blind man by the hand, and led him out of the village; and when he had spit on his eyes and laid his hands upon him, he asked him, “Do you see anything?” 24 And he looked up and said, “I see men; but they look like trees, walking.” 25 Then again he laid his hands upon his eyes; and he looked intently and was restored, and saw everything clearly. 26 And he sent him away to his home, saying, “Do not even enter the village.”
Have you ever wondered why certain stories and events are recorded in the Bible while others are not? Scholars and theologians have been trying to make sense of this story for centuries. Why did Jesus spit on the man’s eyes? Why did He do the healing in two stages, when He had the power to heal the man instantly? Why did He grab the man’s hand and lead him out of town? Why did He tell the man not to enter the village on his way home? We are left with dozens of questions and no definitive answers.
This is not the only gospel story (or Biblical story for that matter) that raises questions and includes inexplicable elements. In fact, many people, wanting to discredit the Bible, point to stories like this as “proof” that the Bible is not “true”; there are too many unanswered questions, inconsistencies, gaps and omissions. Why is God silent for hundreds of years between the prophets and the gospels, or why do we have no account of Jesus’ teen years? Why are there stories of some of the Judges, and mere mentions of others? Why did some writings become “canon” and others became apocryphal or even heretical? For my part, I find such stories to be proof that the Bible IS inspired by God– Truth really is often stranger than fiction!
I don’t intend to try to answer all the unanswered questions, but since I think that ALL scripture is inspired by God, I’d like to look at what this passage might have to say about prayer, sight, and walking with Christ.
First, this story comes about because, as Jesus is coming up to Bethsaida, he is approached by a group begging him to heal their blind friend. Jesus responds by taking the blind man by the hand and leaving– taking him out of town and away from his friends. We aren’t told why, but I think even without explanation, there are two “takeaways” here:
The blind man was not asking for healing– for whatever reason, his friends were the ones asking for help on his behalf. We jump at the chance to pray for people who ask for help and prayer, but are we as eager to pray for those who do NOT? The passage says the friends brought the blind man to Jesus– it doesn’t say if the man came willingly, grudgingly, unknowingly, or eagerly. His friends brought him and begged for Jesus to touch/heal him. We should have the same passion for lifting up our friends, family, neighbors, bosses, community workers, leaders, and even enemies.
Jesus took the man out of town to heal him. Nowhere in the passage does it mention that his friends followed or saw the healing take place. The story includes them, and their actions, but it is not ABOUT them. Just because we beg God for a miracle, or ask Him to help us plant a seed or make a difference, doesn’t mean that we will get to see the result. Often, God will remove someone from our life just as they are on the verge of changes– even miracles– for which we have prayed. That doesn’t negate our need to keep praying, nor should it diminish our joy at the ultimate result.
Next, there is the curious circumstance of the two-phase healing. Jesus spits, touches the man’s eyes, and then asks, “Do you see anything?” It is a unique question from Jesus. Normally, in the healing process, Jesus doesn’t ask, he commands..“I tell you, get up, take your mat and go home.” (Mark 2:11 NIV); When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out! (John 11:43 NIV); He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum!” (which means “Little girl, I say to you, get up!”) (Mark 5:41 NIV). Just as curious is the answer from the man. Yes, he can see, but there is obviously a problem that needs to be addressed. In this instance, healing did not come instantly and completely.
My point here is not to speculate, or try to find answers as to why this story is so different. But once again, I see a couple of points to ponder:
Jesus often leads us to a place of questions instead of clear solutions, and it can be frustrating and uncomfortable. But he doesn’t leave us there, alone and with no remedy (even if it feels scary in the waiting!) Jesus did not torment the man with a hundred questions; he didn’t blame the man for not seeing clearly right away; and he didn’t leave him unable to see clearly. Instead, he asked the man a simple question, “Do you see anything?”
When I am in a season of questions, am I listening for and listening TO the questions or merely itching for an easy answer?
Jesus didn’t explain his question or justify his healing. He didn’t redirect or ask a hundred clarifying questions. He was more interested in the man’s response. The man could have answered, “Yes, I can see,” and walked away disappointed and half-healed. He could have answered in anger or bitterness or sarcasm and unbelief. “How could you do this to me?. What good is my sight if everything looks wrong?”
How do I answer when Jesus leads me to a place of questions? Am I honest with myself and with Him about what I see (or don’t see clearly)? Do I answer with the truth, or do I answer with impatience and distrust?
Lastly, we have a curious ending to story, though one more consistent with other healing events– Jesus restores the man’s sight so that he can see perfectly. Then he directs him NOT to enter the village when he returns home. Once again, I want to look at what I can learn and apply from this passage:
God wants to bring restoration and correction. He wants me to see clearly. He wants me to see others clearly; he wants me to see Him clearly. It isn’t just physical sight that is important to Him. He wants me to get insight as well. I don’t need to have all the answers to the many questions this passage brings up to get insight and wisdom from it, but I do need to see that there IS wisdom to be gained from studying even the odd passages He has chosen to give us in His Word.
God brings healing and insight, but He also gives us direction– in this case, the man was NOT to enter the village. Once again, we are not given a reason why. And we are not given any information as to the man’s response. Did he obey? It is a curious feature of many of Jesus’ healings that He commands people not to run off and tell others. On this point, since it happens often, I will speculate..I don’t believe that God wants us to stay silent about miracles and blessings, but I do believe that there are good reasons to pause and reflect before we spread the word:
So often, in our elation and wonder, we trumpet “our” miracles and blessings– as though we were singled out because of who we are or what we have done or how we prayed. We don’t do this on purpose; we’re normally not even aware of how it sounds to others…In time, the wonder sinks deeper, the humble awareness of God’s mercy and grace replaces the initial euphoria and self-congratulation. We bring more glory to God and less attention to ourselves. In my excitement when God sends me blessing, do I try to take some of the credit, or take pride in His gifts?
Related to this is the temptation to forget that others around us are still in pain or darkness. God’s power to heal is absolute, but He doesn’t choose to remove all pain, nor does he prevent us from experiencing suffering and tragedy. We NEED to share stories of His power, mercy, grace, and joy, but we need to do so with loving insight into the hearts and lives of others, remembering to “rejoice with those who rejoice, and mourn with those who mourn” (Romans 12:15) Do I spend equal time listening to others, praying for them and sharing their burdens?
The commands of Jesus are not arbitrary or capricious. We may not understand why, but we should trust that they are for our good and God’s glory. We don’t know what might have awaited the man in Bethsaida. What we do know is that Bethsaida was singled out (along with Chorazin) as a village of unbelief and stubborn refusal to accept miracles. When God closes a door of opportunity in my life, do I keep trying to break in? Or do I take the next step in faith?
So I ask myself today– “Do I see anything?” “Do I see clearly?” and “Am I obeying Christ’s direction for the next step?”