Spiritual Gifts and Reformed Theology: Can They Co-exist?, Part 1

A little while back, I told some fellow bloggers here that I didn’ t think charismatic gifts (the traditional 1 Corinthians list) and traditional Reformed theology were compatible. Though you could write a book on this topic, I do want to address some the issues I believe make them difficult to reconcile. As always, you’re free to disagree and comment. Please know that I am writing this assuming a basic understanding of both topics at hand. I won’t be stopping for definitions and the like. I’ll handle the issues in this order: 1) allegorization of miracles, 2) the Isaiah gift list, 3) confining spiritual gifts to conversion, and 4) modern expressions of these issues.

1) Allegorization of miracles: Even though the gifts of the Spirit were still common during the postbiblical period (even by “scaffolding model” timelines), clergy began to substitute allegorical interpretations for actual miraculous events and charismata. The need for miracles and spiritual gifts began to be seen as an elementary approach to Christianity, similar to the way the Alexandrian school taught that literal interpretation of scripture was beneath a mature believer. Rather, God’s acts of creation and the ”healing” of the soul (conversion) became the true miracles of the church. Augustine, in his Homilies on the Gospel of John, stated, “The Samaritans had waited for no sign, they believed simply His word.” Emphasizing faith that does not require miracles, he stated that mature Christians have “believed on Christ through the gospel; we have seen no signs, none do we demand.” Earlier, disgusted with commoners’ use of amulets to cure disease, Augustine stated that we should “rejoice” when someone is sick “tossed about with fever and pains” in hopes that the gospel “placed at the heart” will “heal it from sin.” Sin was the most urgent “disease” facing humanity. The Reformers picked this line of reasoning up.

2) Substitution of the Christological gifts of Isaiah 11 for the 1 Corinthians 12 list: Around the same time, clergy began to teach regularly on the gifts in Isaiah 11:2-3. The Isaiah list (wisdom, understanding, counsel, might, knowledge, piety, and the fear of the Lord) became the standard gift “list” associated with the Christian walk. Though it is difficult to speculate exactly why these gifts were chosen over the 1 Corinthians list, some reasons do come to mind. For one, the Isaiah list prophetically describes the giftings of Christ. The church at this time was highly involved in defining Christology against heretical movements and the Isaiah gifts reflected that concern. Secondly, the gifts in Isaiah had less of a supernatural element to them. Wisdom, for example, has a more natural element to it than say, tongues. Counsel could be gained through interaction with creation – the Augustinian vehicle for God’s self-revelation – as opposed to prophecy which required direct revelation and inner experience. Third, the 1 Corinthians gifts appealed to the direct experience of the individual believer – something most ecclesiastical authorities believed was dangerous, particularly after the Montanism “scare.”

The Isaiah list didn’t replace the 1 Corinthians list overnight. Beginning with the Alexandrian school, spiritual gifts were adapted to accommodate theological beliefs. Origen cited language, wisdom, and knowledge as gifts only available to “worthy receivers.” Ambrose, describing the sacrament of confirmation, emphasized the reception of the “sevenfold gift” – listing the traits of Christ in Isaiah 11. Augustine followed suit. Gregory the Great made this substitution permanent. In his famous Pastoral Rule, Gregory wrote a tremendous amount about love and self-control but steered away from any recognition of the power gifts listed in 1 Corinthians. In his commentary on Job, Gregory explained that the seven gifts act as armor against spiritual attack and other evils. In a homily on Pentecost, Gregory specifically addressed the gifts in 1 Corinthians, but in the postbiblical age, he stated they are considered the gift of the clergy alone. Parishioners would do better to focus on the seven gifts that promote fruitful Christian living rather than power gifts that could possibly lead to pride.

We find the consummation of the allegorical and sevenfold gift traditions in the Reformed tradition. Luther’s German translation of the hymn, Veni Creator Spiritus, while referencing the seven gifts, allegorically interprets the gift of tongues as preaching: “You are with sevenfold gifts/The finger of God’s right hand/You deliver the Father’s Word speedily/With tongues into all the lands.”  These ideas are still reflected in Reformed theology today.

I’ll discuss issues 3 and 4 tomorrow…

“Healing the Desperate”, Part 3

Jesus implies that we have a role to play in healing. And this is where the theological waters get muddy for people. But let’s see if we can make some sense of it together. Jesus tells Bartimaeus that his faith has “saved” him – that word for salvation in the original language that means everything from “save the soul” to “heal the body” to “deliver from danger.” And if that’s correct, then Jesus came to heal every part of us – our whole being. And our part is simply this: to believe that healing is possible for us today. That may be unconventional – but to the desperate, conventional advice means little more than the path of least resistance. The desperate people who came to Jesus had already tried the conventional route. They were looking for something beyond that – a place of faith that we rarely go today as Christians. This morning, I want you to know that it’s okay to believe in healing. The real question is not “Why believe that God heals?” Rather, it’s “Why not believe that God heals?” Why not? It’s okay to believe. We ask him to heal other things: marriages, finances, relationships, addictions, even the brokenness of our hearts. Why not our bodies?

 We’ve been taught since we were young to think with our heads: gather evidence, weigh proofs, test methods, and think critically. In essence, we are taught to start with our head and only when the evidence allows us to do so, we can believe with the heart. But if the gospels are correct, Jesus’s way seems to be something different. He asks us to start with the heart first…that’s the nature of faith: committing your entire being to God whether you understand everything about God or not. See, Jesus never asked us to understand everything – just to trust him with the things we don’t. For me, and probably for you, that includes the possibility of physical healing.

 I am a part of one the men’s Monday night book studies. We’re just finishing a book by Steve Harper who many in Methodist circles consider a foremost authority on prayer. I read something his book that really caught my attention about the unknown areas of prayer and healing. He said this: “When I hit the wall of mystery, I have a decision to make. I can say, ‘Well, that’s it for me. I can’t live with or practice what I don’t understand.’ Or I can face that wall of mystery, build a ladder, and see as much on the other side as possible.” None of us have to fully understand healing in order to believe in it. Christians are to start with the heart and then believe with the mind. And if that involves undignified behavior, that’s okay. I agree with Cardinal John Henry Newman. When asked about charlatans, strange religious behavior, and faith healers, he said, “Taking human nature as it is, we must surely concede a little superstition as not the worst of evils, if it be the price of making sure of faith.” I think he has a point.

 Okay, so maybe you don’t want to be desperate. Maybe this whole series is a little overwhelming particularly for those who have experienced extreme loss and tragedy from disease. If you live long enough, everyone falls into that category. I certainly would never trivialize anyone’s pain, suffering, or grief by providing pat answers that have no real meaning. But maybe you can be something else: you can be determined (Thanks, Brad). Determination is merely “desperation with a plan.” Determination is realizing that faith involves possibilities that are beyond our understanding and making the decision to be open to the idea that God still heals today. It’s being willing to say, “I can’t do everything…but I’ll do what I can.” All of us have a step of faith in front of us. That step of faith for Bartimaeus was radical and totally undignified. He cried out repeatedly and flung his beggar’s cloak in the air. Yours may be merely to walk down the aisle on Holy Thursday at the healing service and ask for God to do something supernatural for you or someone you know. Who knows? He just might.

“Healing the Desperate”, Part 2

But the story of Bartimaeus is fairly straightforward. Back in the time of Jesus, due to the dusty environment and bright sunlight, ophthalmic diseases were common in varying degrees. The biblical text is pretty specific in the original language, using the word to describe something as “smoky” or “opaque,” not just the complete inability to see. I found a quote from a 9th century Middle Eastern geographer who said “I once walked the streets counting all that [had visual defects] and it amounted to about one-half the male population. The women I could not count, for they are rigidly veiled” The visually impaired, by that society’s cultural standards, constituted one of the neediest groups, so much so that they had special protection under Mosaic Law. It prevented someone who had been born into a priestly family from exercising his ministry. Over time, all forms of blindness became associated with God’s punishment for human sin because it prevented someone from doing what the Jewish religion valued most: reading the law. So, in the Jewish community, a religious and cultural stigma had to be endured. Jesus strongly objected this – he actually went out of his way to heal the visually impaired. In Luke 4, after reading Isaiah 61 in the synagogue, Jesus had the gall to tell everyone there that his willingness to bring recovery of sight was a sign of his Messiahship.

 Now, there are some important clues to this story that often get left out. The first involves the disciples telling Bartimaeus to be quiet. Without the background information, it looks like they were being very rude, and Jesus too – he just ignored Bartimaeus. But they weren’t doing that to be cruel. Here’s why. This miracle happened right outside of Jerusalem. The road between Jerusalem and Jericho was a steep incline with Roman garrisons all along the way. They had entered occupied territory. And here’s the important part: the title “Son of David” was a political revolutionary term for someone who wanted to the overthrow of the Roman government and re-establish Jewish freedom. During the Passover season, the Roman military became particularly antsy. Every year, several Messianic figures would gather a band of rebels together and attempt political coups. Why? Because the prophets had predicted the return of the Messiah at the time of Passover. So, calling Jesus by that name would put all the guards on alert.

 That’s why Jesus, at first, didn’t respond to Bartimaeus. It’s interesting to me that Bartimaeus was completely unfazed by the rebukes, scowls, and shameful looks he received. He really didn’t care what others thought. He was happy to exchange his dignity and the approval of others just for the chance to be healed by Jesus. He honestly didn’t care. He was desperate. And he does something even more amazing next. This is the part I really love! When Jesus called Bartimaeus to him, Bartimaeus takes off his beggars cloak that wraps around his shoulders and lays across his lap – the one that identifies him and allows him to receive alms – and “throws it aside.” He flings it in the air, and with it, all the coins he had collected that day! He had faith in Jesus’s ability to heal his eyes to the point where he threw away his livelihood just for the chance of prayer. Desperate people do that sort of thing. They are unencumbered by the looks of disdain and comments about “irresponsibility” that others speak over them. Why? Because they are at their wit’s end. The end of their rope. And the desire to fight for something more than what life has handed to them is stronger than the desire to remain dignified.

 We still see that today where healing is concerned. Homeopathic remedies continue to offer hope outside of conventional medical practices. In November 1991, a Time magazine article reported that alternative healing methods were rising out of the (quote): “sheer desperation” of patients who had exhausted all other traditional avenues of healing. And we’re not talking about some uneducated or fringe group of society here. The demographic involved was composed of ages 29 to 49 with significant education and higher incomes. The holistic healing movement effectively cancels out the idea that only ignorant or “primitive” people would engage in unconventional healing methods. Suburbia is taking matters into their own hands and those numbers continue to rise today. It wasn’t too long ago that Coretta Scott King, Martin Luther King, Jr.’s widow, made headlines when she took a trip down to Mexico to participate in an experimental cancer study. She had been told her ovarian cancer was incurable. But that wasn’t good enough. She was desperate.

“Healing the Desperate”, Part 1

I preached this sermon on March 29th to mixed reviews. There’s nothing like the topic of physical healing to polarize a congregation. I’ll split it up into several posts on the blog but if you are interested in hearing or reading it in its entirety before then, visit www.tfumc.com and go to the sermon section. Unfortunately, the emotional reserve needed to absorb this sermon was immediately swept away afterwards due to a single announcement. Our conference has requested that my senior minister take an appointment in Albany, GA. As part of the “Methodist way” (as I like to call it), she has agreed. Needless to say, people were completely shocked. Who’s coming in? That hasn’t been finalized yet…and that’s part of the adventure I suppose. But I certainly will miss Leigh Ann. I have a learned a tremendous amount from her. Anyway, on the the sermon…

 

Healing the Desperate

Text: Mark 10:46-52 

Today we are continuing our series on the healings of Jesus. Specifically today, we are going to talk about Jesus healing people who were desperate.

I love to read church history. Not for the councils and creeds and such (though that’s certainly important), but for the people you meet along the way. One of my favorite stories from medieval history is the story of Tanchelm. In 1112, local clergy begged for help from Frederick, the archbishop of Cologne, concerning a wandering preacher they called “our Antichrist.” Tanchelm, who was probably a monk, started his ministry calling for stronger Gregorian reform – he then forbade his followers to take the sacraments and urged them not to tithe to the local church. As his popularity grew, he proclaimed his own divinity and thousands flocked to his side. And thisis the pertinent part for today’s message. According to the local clergy, Tanchelm’s followers began to distribute his bath water in small doses and drink it as a sacrament to heal their bodies of disease. Finally, the local clergy had endured all they could stand and devised a plan. They selected a priest who took Tanchelm on a boat ride. At just the right moment, the priest took the oar, smacked Tanchelm upside the head, and pushed him into the water. And that was the end of that. Slightly horrifying…but still a great story from church history. You can’t make that stuff up, people! Personally, stories like this one make me cringe with embarrassment and wonder exactly how Christians can make such “undignified” decisions. It’s like watching a theological train wreck! I think God is up in heaven shaking his head in disbelief. Then, I begin to look beyond their “legacy” to the people behind the actions. That’s when drinking the bathwater of a medieval “David Koresh” begins to make sense. I like how Paul Tillich explains it. He said that fringe groups like Tanchelm’s are “the criticism of the church for the gap between its claim and its reality.”

 Tanchelm’s followers were desperate. “Desperation” is a word that makes us uneasy, specifically when you associate it with something mysterious like our present topic – healing. We like things to be ordered, calm, reserved, dignified, and predictable. We don’t really like “desperate.” It conjures up images of recklessness and threatens our respectability with the possibility that someone might make a scene. What’s worse, they may even make a scene for Jesus! But the gospels are full of examples of people being undignified. Two weeks ago, Leigh Ann talked about a hemorrhaging woman who was willing to risk the ritual impurity of everyone around her to touch Jesus’s clothing. And that story is couched within the frame of Jairus – the biblical version of a modern day city council member or mayor – falling down in the dirt and crying for Jesus to heal his little girl. And the story of Bartimaeus is also great example.

 Talking about healing is really difficult. It makes ministers shake in their boots. And that’s mostly because of the theology involved. When it comes down to it, we must admit that we don’t have a good “theology” of healing. Questions like “Can God heal?” or “Will God heal?” have complex answers. Oftentimes, it’s beyond our grasp. And when we discuss them, we go around and around in circles like a dryer full of clothes at the local Laundromat. That reminds me a lot of my youngest daughter, Annagale. Annagale is a free spirit. We use words like “expressive,” “energetic” and “inspired” to describe her, if you catch my drift. She is always entertaining to be sure. We’ve been working on understanding the Trinity at our house lately, though I don’t think it’s going as well as I hoped. At preschool the other day, the teachers informed me that they were also discussing the Trinity with Annagale’s class. The teacher said, “So, the Trinity is the Father, the Son, and the Holy….” Annagale jumped up and said, “Holy Cow!” So, I suppose everyone’s theology could use a little “tweaking” now and then.

Sermon Help

I am preaching a sermon called “Healing the Desperate” on Sunday. Here’s my text:

Mark 10:46-52 (New Living Translation)

46 Then they reached Jericho, and as Jesus and his disciples left town, a large crowd followed him. A blind beggar named Bartimaeus (son of Timaeus) was sitting beside the road. 47 When Bartimaeus heard that Jesus of Nazareth was nearby, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” 48 “Be quiet!” many of the people yelled at him. But he only shouted louder, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” 49 When Jesus heard him, he stopped and said, “Tell him to come here.” So they called the blind man. “Cheer up,” they said. “Come on, he’s calling you!” 50 Bartimaeus threw aside his coat, jumped up, and came to Jesus. 51 “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked. “My rabbi, ” the blind man said, “I want to see!” 52 And Jesus said to him, “Go, for your faith has healed you.” Instantly the man could see, and he followed Jesus down the road.

Got any thoughts on this passage? I welcome your input…

“Don’t Kiss it, Pray for it!”

Beth had a funny experience a few months back. She went into Annagale’s room one morning to find her whimpering while holding her nose. Evidently she had hurt it somehow. Beth went into mom mode and attempted to kiss it to make it feel better. Annagale backed away and said, “No, don’t kiss it, Mommy – pray for it!” Well, that was certainly unexpected…

Beth and I laughed about it but then I got to thinking about what had actually happened. Annagale chose a spiritual method of relief over a “conventional” one. Now, if Annagale did that at age 20 or 30 or 40, some might say that she wasn’t being practical or that she was “so heavenly minded that she was no earthly good” or some other “gem” produced by our rationalistic mindset. But that idea is quickly fading away. Newsweek had on its front cover a few months back about the fact that “alternative” medicine is now becoming “standard” practice. Conventional means no longer satisfy peoples’ needs.

Yet, Christians still struggle with the possiblity that God might actually want to heal us. I don’t think we have a problem with whether or not he’s powerful enough. It has more to do with whether we think he wants to heal us. Scriptures like the one where the leper asks Jesus if he is willing to heal him fail to convince us. Even though Jesus gave a resounding “I will!” we still often times say that God works through “other means” to bring about his purposes. What’s with that? What’s so hard about actually believing in healing?

I think this mentality also affects our prayers. Why don’t we pray for healing more often? Many of the prayers for healing I hear are more like short essays preparing us for the psychological impact of disease or the inevitability of life’s end. Now that’s uplifting. Outsiders hear those prayers and think, “hmm, maybe the church doesn’t have anything to offer after all.” I also think it affects why we have trouble praying out loud. Once you’ve said it out loud in a group of people, it’s hard to take back. Plus, we are constantly told that no one is sure what God’s plan is anyway – our job is to pray for the courage to bear up under trials. Praying for healing is kind of like a poker game when you go “all in.” You think you have the winning hand…but what if you don’t? Maybe it’s best to fold this round. I think that tendency goes back to the fact that we’re not sure what cards the Dealer holds.

I want faith like my three year old. She obviously considered the effectiveness of prayer more appropriate than a kiss on the nose. Though we spend plenty of time praying and talking about God around our house, we’re not having healing lines or scripture memory drills or anything. Our faith incorporates itself into our lives without any “grand standing.” Having the faith of a child simply means to take God at his Word. It means to honestly follow that inward inclination to trust God in the face of more “conventional” advice. “Conventional” doesn’t always mean correct or wise – it just means common. Christians aren’t called to be common – they’re called to be unique, curious, and full of life.

I Guess Todd Bentley Proved Everyone Right…

Hold up there, champ.  Read this excellent take on Todd Bentley’s marital separation. Heck, I’ll just copy it over for you to save time: 

“For those of you who have been following the healing revival going on in Lakeland, you have, no doubt, heard that Todd Bentley and his wife are separating. If not, read this.

It was only a few hours after this announcement that I began to see several “I told you so” articles. Some who had been outspoken against the revival all along relished in the news as further proof of its illegitimacy are openly hoping this news puts the final nail in the coffin of the revival. Others who have stayed silent on the issue are now, with new (convenient) confidence, saying that we should’ve known all along. An example can be found here.

Didn’t take us Christians long to kick our wounded did it?

Ok, lets see if we can sort this out. Here are the facts as we know them: Todd Bentley and his wife are separating. And here is what this means to the body of Christ: Todd Bentley and his wife are separating.

Here is what this news doesn’t mean: 1) The revival was a fraud 2) Todd is a bad guy 3) Those guys that spoke out against Todd should be lifted up and praised (isn’t that what they thought was happening with Todd?) 4) Tattoos and black shirts are scary 5) Jesus slipped and fell of His throne.

Bottom line: Todd and his wife are separating. Thats it. No other information. It doesn’t effect you. We don’t even know why at this point. Why assume the worst? Why consider some grandiose conspiracy theory? Why seek this out as a way to prove yourself right? A man’s marriage is quite possibly falling apart and all we can think about is ourselves!

Why do Christians do this to each other? Simple – we don’t believe the Bible. Oh sure, we know the verses that prove our belief system. We know how to disprove someone else’s theology. We have those memorized. We can talk down the Mormons or Jehovah’s Witnesses when they ring our bell. We can tell you all the stuff that’s supposedly going to happen before Jesus comes back. But what about love (1 Cor 13)? What about preferring others better than ourselves (Phil 2:3)? What about not believing accusations against those who have given their lives in ministry (1 Tim 5:19)? We don’t really believe those. If we did, we’d practice them. We’d hold them in as high esteem as the verses that say Jesus is the only way to the Father. Same book, same author. Yet, we treat those commands regarding how to treat others as secondary.

Yes, I personally have had some concerns about the revival. Yes, if there is infidelity or other agregious sin that lead to the seperation, Todd should step down and get restored. But let’s not hope for the worst in an effort to prop oursleves up as being right.

“I told you so” cannot be said in love.“

 

Christians, we need to treat people better. I think I said something about that here…

The Prosperity Gospel of the Ages

I grew up on a steady diet of T.V. evangelists. And as a young Christian I adopted much of the “prosperity gospel” or “Word of Faith” message I heard. Now, there’s much within “Word of Faith” that needs correction. A pastor friend of mine wrote about that here. But there’s some good things about it as well. That may be strange for you to hear, since normally people either love the “Word of Faith” message or they think it’s heresy. Sorry, I wish it were that simple. Sure, prosperity preachers say some wacked out things. But they also believe God actually cares about the day-to-day issues of life, like finances and health. And that’s something a lot of their detractors have no answer for. People that say God does a greater work by “healing the soul,” not the body, are completely out of touch with real life. Of course there’s balance – God’s not gonna give you a Mercedes because you confessed it into existence. But neither am I the least bit afraid to say that God does bless people materially and financially.

Most people see the “prosperity gospel” as a new phenomenon – something created in the last 40 years or so. An “Americanized” form of Christianity that hinges upon Western consumerism and greed. And if you merely study contemporary reflections of Christiantiy, you may convince yourself that you are correct. But there are countless examples throughout church history that say otherwise (you can start with historians Keith Thomas, Valerie Flint, and Stephen Wilson for this information). For example, Keith Thomas in Religion and the Decline of Magic, tells the story of a local parishioner who believed his excommunication was ineffective since he had his best crop production the following year. In other words, this guy thought that if God had been angry at him, he would not have received such blessing. Yet his material prosperity stated otherwise. Most Christians throughout history have followed this line of thinking.

Equating material and relational “prosperity” to Christianity is as old as the church itself. This most commonly involved alternative uses of consecrated items found within the church. Parishioners drank holy water as a cure for illness, sprinkled it on their homes, their fields, and on their cattle for protection. Clergy performed exorcisms to make fields fruitful, lit holy candles to protect animals, and spoke curses to drive away vermin, weeds, and crop destroying insects. During communion, parishioners would not swallow the host but hold it in their mouth until they returned to their seat. They then carried the host as an amulet for protection, to cure disease, or sometimes ground it into powder to sprinkle over crops as a charm against caterpillars. Christians also took the blessed palms from Palm Sunday back to their farms where they placed them above their beds, on religious pictures, over doors, or planted them in the fields to ensure good crops. They were also placed in the cradles of babies, used to ward off storms, or weaved into small crosses that the people used as talismans. The practice of making palm crosses was banned in the 1540s, yet people continued these practices to the end of the 1800s. At calendar festivals, animals were blessed by the priest, sprinkled with holy water, and ritually washed or dipped as part of ceremony for health and protection. There are reports of parishioners withholding their tithes from ministers who refused to perform such remedies.

Despite clergy’s efforts to state otherwise, Christians have always believed in a properity gospel. The examples above explain this thinking: though Jesus helped in the afterlife, a cross worn around the neck protected from peril now. Though the Eucharist represented a life of spiritual communion with God, the host could be sprinkled over crops now. Though the blood of Jesus atoned sin, communion wine could heal a sick child now. It shouldn’t surprise anyone to learn that the rise of such practices roughly coincided with the marginalization of spiritual gifts by clergy.

Belief in ”prosperity” did not stop with the Reformation or with the Enlightenment. With Catholic and Protestant clergy condemning their use, people continued to employ alternate methods for physical and financial well-being. In 1594, Lutheran inspectors in Germany reported that “the use of spells is so widespread among the people here that not a man or woman begins…or refrains from doing anything…without employing some particular blessing, incantation, spell, or other such heathenish means…” They did this because clergy gave them no Christian alternative. So, they found substitutes. Documented examples like this exist into the twentieth century.

So, Sam, what are you trying to say? I’m saying that most Christians (until they are taught otherwise) honestly believe that God should be willing to intervene in their daily lives bringing “prosperity” in the forms of material blessing, protection, deliverance, healing, and wealth. Telling them they shouldn’t expect such things has never deterred anyone from seeking God’s blessing. The “Word of Faith” movement is merely a modern manifestation of this. And though some may see such requests for “blessing” beneath them, the majority of Christians throughout history have thought differently. The “prosperity gospel” isn’t new. In fact, wherever you find well-meaning Christians seeking the kindness and generousity of God, you’ll find it. If God cares at all, then he must care about all aspects of our lives.

“Don’t Kiss it, Pray for it!”

Beth had a funny experience a few weeks back. She went into Annagale’s room one morning to find her wimpering while holding her nose. Evidently she had hurt it somehow. Beth went into mom mode and attempted to kiss it to make it feel better. Annagale backed away and said, “No, don’t kiss it, Mommy – pray for it!” Well, that was certainly unexpected…

Beth and I laughed about it but then I got to thinking about what had actually happened. Annagale choose a spiritual method of relief over a “conventional” one. Now, if Annagale did that at age 20 or 30 or 40, some might say that she wasn’t being practical or that she was “so heavenly minded that she was no earthly good” or some other “gem” produced by rationalism. But that idea is quickly fading away. Newsweek had on its front cover last month about the fact that “alternative” medicine is now becoming “standard” practice. Conventional means no longer satisfy peoples’ needs.

Yet, Christians still struggle with the possiblity that God might actually want to heal us. I don’t think we have a problem with whether or not he’s powerful enough. It has more to do with whether we think he wants to heal us. Scriptures like the one where the leper asks Jesus if he is willing to heal him fail to convince us. Even though Jesus gave a resounding “I will!” we still often times say that God works through “other means” to bring about his purposes. What’s with that? What’s so hard about actually believing in healing?

 I think this mentality also affects our prayers. Why don’t we pray for healing more often? Many of the prayers for healing I hear are more like short esssays preparing us for the psychological impact of disease or the inevitability of life’s end. Now that’s uplifting. Outsiders hear those prayers and think, “hmm, maybe the church doesn’t have anything to offer afterall.” I also think it affects why we have trouble praying out loud. Once you’ve said it out loud in a group of people, it’s hard to take back. Plus, we are constatnly told that no one is sure what God’s plan is anyway – our job is to pray for the courage to bear up under trials. Praying for healing is kind of like a poker game when you go all in. You think you have the winning hand…but what if you don’t? Maybe it’s best to fold this round. I think that tendency goes back to the fact that we’re not sure what cards the Dealer holds.

I want faith like my two year old. She obviously considered the effectiveness of prayer more appropriate than a kiss on the nose. Though we spend plenty of time praying and talking about God around our house, we’re not having healing lines or scripture memory drills or anything. Our faith incorporates itself into our lives without any “grand standing.” Having the faith of a child simply means to take God at his Word. It means to honestly follow that inward inclination to trust God in the face of more “conventional” advice. “Conventional” doesn’t always mean correct or wise - it just means common. Christians aren’t called to be common – they’re called to be unique, curious, and full of life.