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Miracle of Miracles Okay, so we all know what a miracle is. Right? Something, well. . . miraculous. Supernatural. Above-and-beyond the everyday, a gift from God. Babies are miracles, spontaneous healings are miracles, even changes of heart are deemed as such. In fact, we tend to give the label "miracle" to anything unexpected, even if it isn’t in that realm of "shouldn’t be possible, and yet here it is." I know I personally have heard many sermons that went something like this. "Do miracles still happen today? Of course! Every time a sinner repents, it’s a miracle. Every time someone beats the odds against cancer, it’s a miracle. The miraculous is all around us, if we just open our eyes." I believe this. I think the little things are proof of God working in our lives. But you know, sometimes I think this "little thing" definition might actually limit Him. I think a lot of people today are perfectly willing to accept those kinds of miracles, but they scoff at the big stuff. I mean, if somebody got up in church and said, "Last night I heard a voice calling to me from the other room, and it was God!" we’d be going, "Mm hm. Sure it was. Either that or your kid, playing a little joke." In this world of special effects and computer graphics, photoshopping and digital-everything, we’ve learned to be skeptical. It’s wise. But it’s also a shame, isn’t it? We can’t accept big miracles anymore. Can’t accept them so don’t expect them. Don’t expect them. . . will they keep coming? Will God still grant them in spite of our disbelief, or will He shake the dust of our incredulous generation from His feet and give the big things to cultures not "advanced" enough to refuse to believe? I started thinking about this question after a great Bible study I took part in about two years ago, and I’ve been reminded of it recently when reading different historical fiction novels. First was M. L. Tyndall’s The Redemption. In it, her female lead received supernatural protection that kept the vermin at bay (literally), and Tyndall also uses a physical representation of evil, the form of a black bird, to show her heroine concretely when to be on her guard. This is miraculous–and I loved it. In Mary Connealy’s Petticoat Ranch, she made her heroine’s prayers be heard by two different men who responded with a rescue. Again, miraculous, and again, this was the part of the book that most spoke to me. I was emailing with Ms. Connealy a few days ago, and she said that she was glad I mentioned that in my review, because she was afraid some people might be put off by this exaggerated way of having prayers answered. Her concerns are valid. Which is a real shame. I mean, who’s to say God doesn’t ever do something like this? We all hear the Lord differently, and I believe that in many cases He probably speaks to us in accordance with our faith. So far as I can see, most people don’t mind these "exaggerations" in fiction, though. Look at the popularity of authors like Frank Peretti, who have made a living writing supernatural thrillers. There’s something about the spirit world, the world of miracles, that calls to our deepest hearts, sparks our curiosity. We like that kind of book. Of course, we know all along it’s fiction. Sure, it might hit on a few truths, but it’s the product of the author’s imagination. Which makes it, unfortunately, easy to dismiss. We can say, "Sure, it’s good reading, but come on. It doesn’t really work that way." In the New Testament, we’re repeatedly warned about the powers of darkness, the spiritual principalities out to get us. Are these figures of speech? I don’t think so. Something that only the first-century church had to deal with? I have my doubts. We’re told to gird ourselves against evil. We’re told to pray and expect results. Call me crazy, but I think that was meant very literally. When I was about twelve, a friend and I sat up long into the night discussing things like angels, telling the different stories we heard. We focused only on the good ones–no demons, no monsters lurking. And still we managed to scare ourselves so badly we wouldn’t look at the window. Why? Because we were afraid we were going to glance up and see an angel. It terrified us, even though we’d just been saying we wished we could, someday. Suddenly I understood Gabriel’s need to tell Mary not to be afraid. Because, as much as we are drawn to and entertained by stories of the miraculous, the point remains that it scares us to no end. It represents something beyond us, out of our control. So we content ourselves with our "little miracles." And we read stories about the bigger ones, stories that send shivers up our spines and keep the pages turning. But maybe we should start thinking about them a little more, start wondering how much of fiction is fictional and how much is modeled after truth. Start wondering what kind of miracles we might receive if we just open ourselves up to them. I think we may just be surprised by the answers we receive.
Wanna give me your take? Questions, comments, silly statements? Email me at BtL@ChristianReviewofBooks.com View Other Columns: Celebrating the Tradition |
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